Ever have one of those days when you just SO want to pick up your bowl of corn flakes and throw it at the wall, milk, spoon and all? Yeah, well today is that day for me. Only I’d not stop at the bowl of cereal, it would be closely followed by the whole box, gallon jug of milk, the fresh pineapple, cup of coffee, container of baby puffs and the sippy cup that happen to be on the table as well. I stopped throwing things years ago, so that won’t happen, but I still feel like it.
I am likely one of the most misunderstood people I know. What you see is what you get, make no mistake about that. The thick, sassy bitch exterior is very much part of who I am. But it is there as outer armor, protecting the rest of me. When you go through life so different (I was the kid in grade school that wore purple, high top tennis shoes with my blue, white and gray uniform skirt and white blouse and socks) you need to build up a very strong shell. That bitchy side of me comes out in my writings but so does my vulnerable, soft side. That is what happens when one writes from their heart, you get to see a lot more of them, and it isn’t all pretty.
When I began my blogging adventure years ago on Myspace, I promised myself I would never censor what I write, and I don’t. This doesn’t always sit well with people who read my posts, especially if they or something/someone they feel strongly about is the subject of the moment. (here comes the bitchy side) Tough shit. Don’t like it? Don’t read it. You change the channel on your television if you don’t like what is on, get off my blog page if you don’t care for it. Very simple.
Now I admit that there are days I free flow on my writing, and then save it away for later and come back to edit. But mostly that is to edit for spelling, and to be sure that the tone I am thinking in is coming across in my writing. I do sometimes see where I have been unreasonably harsh and will curb that to some degree. But one thing I will always do is be honest with my writing. I am true to myself. When I share my thoughts and experiences or feelings, they are MINE, from MY perspective. Simply because your perspective and feelings do not match my own does not mean I am wrong, or for that matter you are, it only means our experiences with that subject matter are DIFFERENT. So deal with it. Our mistakes are our own. And our emotions and thoughts are as well. I for one have no issue taking ownership of my thoughts, experiences, emotions or mistakes. My life is all about ME.
I refuse to be conformed to anyone else’s standards of what I should be. I am my own person, unique, quirky, completely special. I hear the beat of an eccentric drummer compared to most of society. I don’t go with the flow simply to make life easier for anyone else, I tend to swim against the current and take the unpopular path. It can make me hard to read, understand or deal with, and frankly I don’t mind that. I’m far from predictable. Just when folks think they know exactly what I will do, how I will react, I change the direction. So just because you think you know me, don’t hold your breath, the rug is likely about to be yanked right out from under you. At least I am never boring! 🙂
For 23 years I was in a cage, mostly of my own making. I tried hard to conform to what my husband thought I should be. Whatever it was about me that he found unacceptable I tried hard to hide and cover up, lock inside myself under layers. He fell in love with me, then tried to tweak me to his specifications, like he had ordered a car and got to chose the options with which it came equipped. When we separated I looked in the mirror and no longer recognized the woman looking back at me. Those that were closest to me all my life said I had lost the sparkle in my eyes, the mischief and joy, the real me. They were privy to watching the layers get peeled back and the true me slowly re-emerging. I was like a caged bird set free.
The trouble with caging something wild, is that there tend to be those moments when they seem to turn on you. Keep this bird’s wings clipped and in a cage, she will periodically throw herself against the bars in frustration and anger. I am way too free-spirited to be held down for long without putting up a fight now and then. In the past I would calm down and submit to being in the cage, but I didn’t sing, I had no real joy, just a form of contentment that was temporary until the aggravation rose again.
Late yesterday, I posted an entry for my Dating Diaries section, the subject matter was a recent brief, but intense relationship. I was reminded of a promise I had made that resulted in the blog post being removed. I don’t recall making said promise, cannot imagine that I would have allowed myself to be put back into that damn cage. But that is what happens when a particular dance is so familiar you can perform it out of habit rather than thought. Either way, I had allowed myself to be stuck back in a cage. I am a person of my word, and therefore once it was brought to my attention, and I threw myself against the cage bars, I removed the post. But I am flaming f*cking pissed off right now, mostly at myself. I am mad at myself for having let the wings be clipped in the first place. I agreed to something, it seems, that went against my desire to live for ME, by MY standards and no one else’s. I agreed to something to please someone else, make myself more desirable to them, that went against my own nature. I let myself be put back in a cage. Never again.
Want to date me, get to know me, build and share a sanctuary in this life with me? Super! But don’t try to clip my wings or close me in a cage. I am NOT going back in there ever again. I am not a car, you don’t get to pick and chose the options from a menu to build the woman you want. You want me as I am or you can take a hike. Somewhere out there is a man strong enough to tame this wild bird and not crush my spirit, and I will find him. And when I do I will spread my wings in his world and fill his life with love, song and joy.