“Judgment is going to come, no matter what you do or who you are, so you might as well be a bright, beautiful, successful, joy-filled woman rather than a diluted version of who you really are.”—Rachael Jayne Groover (via thedame)
I feel like people, especially people who have met me in the past three years, have this idea of me. That I’m this rigid, hard, abrasive person. That I’m this ball-busting feminist who doesn’t take shit and on occasion intimidates and is honest and forthright and unashamed and pissed off all the time.
And parts of this are true.
This isn’t exactly who I am and a large part of this persona I’ve had on for three years was a very effective way of keeping people from seeing my vulnerabilities and my real aspirations and the fact that I’m sensitive and most of all, from seeing me as I once was, and still am.
Before three years ago I was aggressively happy. Nothing could get me down, which was weird because everything in my life at the time should have gotten me down. It was awful and painful. But on some level I had accepted that I couldn’t change jack shit so I slapped a smile on and found every possible way I could to stay distracted and okay. That included exercising and painting and photography and yoga and, to be honest, not much else. That was my life outside of the chaos and I clung to it.
And then the chaos started to settle and I got fucking angry. And I got tired of painting that smile on every day and distracting myself and always finding the stupid fucking silver lining in everything, because it felt so cheap. Like such a lie. I looked back on what had gone on and felt like a fool for thinking that my life would never be any better and that I had to accept such bullshit. And I didn’t want to do anything to make myself happy. And I didn’t think I deserved it.
And I’m at this point where I feel pretty healthy. I feel like everyone’s for the most part got this sob story behind them and so do I and that’s just the so what of your life. So what? The real question is what am I going to do with myself?
And I know I don’t want to be angry like this anymore. I don’t want to be this rough, caustic, negative individual anymore. The hate made me feel strong but it’s really just been crippling me, and I see that now.
I know I want to be happy and I think maybe I deserve it now. Everyone’s gotta grow up and face the wolves in the forest and it’s time I ripped the wolf’s guts out and washed my hands of the whole stupid ordeal.
I’m starting to slowly sand down the edges of myself to reveal a person I thought was weak and stupid and I worked so hard to conceal. And I’m seeing that she isn’t stupid or weak and that she must be so strong to have survived everything and I’m still here.
Call me whatever you want, at least I am compassionate.
Any sadness I witness resonates within me on such a deep level, I can’t help but cry. I used to think this was a weakness, but nowadays I’m starting to think differently.
I can’t be around genuine tears or grief or sorrow or fear or hopelessness without feeling it on some level myself.
I don’t believe in the Bible anymore, but when I was little I read the story of Job and I cried because God let Satan destroy his crops and his property and kill all of his children and make his skin erupt in boils, and Job sat in the ashes of his life and cried. And his friends came and sat down with him and cried too, for seven days in silence.
I believe it is better to weep with someone than to leave them to weep in the ashes alone.
“If you want a dog that brings a ball back, guards your house and lives to make you happy get a Labrador.
If you want a creature that snores so hard it wakes itself up, farts like it’s rotting on the inside and sneezes in your face get a Pug.”—(via freemindfreebody)
I love you so much. You are so perfect. You are so just, flawless. I don’t know what to do or say anymore. I’m so exhausted. And lost. I’m really lost. And scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen anymore. I’m not sure of anything. Everything got turned upside down and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s right or wrong. Nothings easy anymore. I’m really scared of what could happen.
All I know is I close my eyes and you’re all I see. You’re all I think about. Be it bad or good, you are all I am anymore. It’s you. It’s always been you. I close my eyes and all I can see is you, you forever. I want you. I want you to be the one I fall asleep with every night. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to tell you how perfect you are, how much I love you. Each time I do it just seems stupid. It’s just another mess of words and it seems so meaningless and cliche and I can’t stop comparing myself to everyone else, but this is the only way I know how to make you feel loved, and try and make you see how perfect you are. This. By telling you over and over and over that you are beautiful and deserve nothing short of the best. You deserve everything. And I love you. I love you more than anyone. I love you more than could every properly be explained. I just hope this came close to it.
the ocean was breathtaking today. the sky was cloudy but bursts of sunlight broke through over the ocean and the clouds were bright around the edges. the air was so clear and the water was calm. the light made it look silver, and gold where the sun touched it.
finishing my night of walking and yoga and reading oscar wilde with a reading of my affirmations and a quick meditation before bedtime.