Toss it Out and Start from Scratch

Holy fuck. You should know that just about everything in my life that could change has changed in the last two-ish weeks. It has been a tad bit overwhelming and I remain somewhat frazzled. Some of these changes are for the better. Some are sad and I know that I will be mourning losses for quite some time. But sometimes change is good. Change enables you to view your self in a new light. And I have not been very kind to myself as of late.

Those that know me know that one thing about me is constant. I talk a great deal of shit. And I do not think that this is necessarily a bad thing. But sometimes I am much better at taking care of other people or giving of myself than I am at giving to myself and doing what I need to do for me. In saying this I don't mean to imply that I am some sort of Mother Fucking Teresa. Clearly I am not. But I have this tendency to put the needs of others before my own. Because despite my tough grrrl exterior I love human beans fully and completely. And this occasionally gets me into troublesome situations that I take full and complete responsibility for regardless of circumstance.

I am not good at expressing my feelings in an honest manner. I will rarely admit that I have needs let alone tell another person what they might be. I am trying to correct this but it has been a long and difficult road. There have been many instances -- some quite recent -- in which I felt that there was much left unsaid.

After a bit of whooping cough relapse in which I coughed up a lung in my Pho this evening much to the concern of my dinner companion, I returned home and sat in front of the mirror. Well. First I engaged in a bit more Artist Pact work. Then I fucked around a bit in order to distract myself. Such distractions failed miserably. I cried for a while. And then I took a very long look at myself in a full length mirror. Naked. Because I have been feeling incredibly naked for the last few months as is probably apparent from my previous posts.

So I stood there. Sans clothing. I stood there in silence and allowed my thoughts to flow naturally. Permitting them to enter and exit as they would. I stood there for a long time. I made note of how pale my skin has become since moving to Seattle more than ten years ago. How my breasts aren't as perky as they were when I was twenty-three. I closely examined the cellulite on my upper thigh. I turned to view the scar behind my left shoulder and noticed how much it has faded since the day I received it. I glanced down at my butt -- not too bad. I looked very closely at my face. And noticed the way it has changed over the years. The deep lines in my forehead. Laugh lines that remain present even in my most serious moments. Scars that marked the change in once perfect skin. I examined the weak chin I inherited from my father and my mother's Hungarian nose that my very wise friend is so fond of.

I stood there for a very long time. And then it got fucking cold. So I turned on the super high powered space heater that resides on the floor in the corner and resumed my examination. And it wasn't so bad.

For the first time in a long time I permitted myself to be with myself without distraction. I am not perfect. And I don't think that I want to be.

It has been a long and difficult journey finding this place. And I felt saddened for the little grrrl who still exists somewhere in the maze of my mind. That little insecure grrrl who never heard a kind word from anyone. The little grrrl who had to be so tough all of the time. The little grrrl who thought she was ugly and unlovable. And I realized in this moment that I am worth more. We all are worth so much more than we permit ourselves to accept. We we continuously permit ourselves to accept less. Less in our personal lives. Less in our professional lives. Less in everything.

I can not help but wonder if we are afraid to be successful. Successful in our personal lives. Successful in our professional lives. Successful in everything. I wonder what the world would look like if we were able to see and acknowledge our own beauty. What would things look like if we took a moment to witness and acknowledge the beauty in others. How would the world be different if we gave ourselves permission not to accept less and embrace success without fear.

Someone...let me know.

Addendum to Post: I find it quite interesting how the spell check program associated with this site does not recognize the words cellulite and unlovable. Perhaps we should not recognize them either.