Manners

I like to think that I am a polite person.  I value manners.  I say 'please', 'thank you' and 'sorry' (and I actually mean it).  I  open doors for others and give generously.  I listen to what others have to say.  I am constantly amazed, however that an acts of kindness is perceived as seduction.  

No, Mr Broken Leg, offering to assist you with your shoe lace does not mean I want you to get in my pants!

Worth in a free market

At the heart of personality is the need
to feel a sense of being lovable without
having to qualify for that acceptance.
Paul Tournier

On the surface it may look like I have something to offer the world.  However, I have never been a confident person.  I have very little self esteem and no self worth.  I am constantly fighting the demons inside my head.  It is a circular argument: if I was worthy I would be treated better but if I was treated better then perhaps I would believe I was worthy. 

However, because I am a scientist I cannot ignore the evidence.  No matter how I look at it, the truth is glaringly obvious.  Although I'd like to think that I am worthy of playing the leading role, I actually deserve nothing more than a bit part.  Moreover, I'm actually a fill in.  An understudy.  A temporary distraction.  A conquest that, once won, no longer has a purpose. 

Worth in a capitalist society with a free market is determined by what people are willing to pay.  And while I am not necessarily talking in monetary terms, evidence would suggest that my worth waivers between nil and negative value.  In fact, I should 'pay' for the privilege to spend time with people.  The longer I spend with them, the more it costs.  

My previous dreams of a loving family unit have been shattered and will never be reformed.  I have accepted that.  I adore my children and I am heartbroken by the circumstance we are in but I have accepted that I fought a major battle to retain that dream and I lost.  I can hold my head up knowing that I did everything I possibly could and went beyond what would be reasonable to expect anyone to do to keep that together.  I fought for years longer than I should have in an attempt to hold onto those dreams.  Not only for me but for my children.  I have accepted that.  I know that there is nothing more I could have done to hold it all together.  I accept that there are consequences for that choice despite how much I hate them.

I realised yesterday what I want in life.  I am, however, powerless to get it.  I love love.  I find it very easy to love people.  I find it immensely difficult to find people who meet my standards but loving them once I find them is easy.  I am willing and capable of unconditional love (perhaps that is the very reason I get mistreated).  I am saddened that I am not worthy of that in return.  I am saddened that, at the root of my inner self, I am not worthy of people's time; of their affection and their ongoing companionship.  I end up looking pitiful.   A little lost puppy hanging around and waiting for scraps.

Accepting that is going to take a long time because, at the heart I am a romantic and I want to be loved.  I am not expecting someone to take on my shit.  I am not looking for a father for my children - they already have one and he's a pretty damn good Dad.  I am not looking for someone to do stuff for me; I am pretty self reliant.   I don't want someone attached to my hip but I do want to be hugged and kissed; I believe touch is healthy.  I don't expect 24/7 attention either, I am a mother and my children are my priority.  Plus, I have my own interests and I don't ever want to lose sight of that.  I like spending time with my friends and I would want anyone in my life to do the same.  I never again want to be stifled nor would I want to do that to someone else.  Freedom is important and healthy.

I want to find someone who accepts me for me, despite my many flaws, and wants to spend time with me anyway. Someone who is willing to put in a little effort to meet my needs occasionally.  I am a pretty generous person and I don't think I am unreasonable in my requests.  I do not expect to be cherished or worshiped.  I do no expect gifts or pampering.  I do, however, expect not to be trampled on.  I deserve to be treated with respect.

Strength of unity

Today my gorgeous nephew turned twelve (he also beat me at pool but let's move on, shall we?).  We had a lovely (loud) dinner to celebrate followed by our family tradition of my aunt's chocolate cake and out-of-sync singing of "Happy birthday".  

The celebrations tonight have allowed me time to reflect on how awesome my family are.  Sure, they piss me off from time to time - they're family after all!  But they are brilliant people.  There is always a lot of conversation at our family gatherings.  In recent months I have entertained people with my potty mouth and tales of my depressing cesspool of a life but the stories are always with humour and light.  No one is ever left alone; we all wander around chatting to each other and everyone pitches in with the preparation and clean up.  There's never one person bearing the weight of the work, which I love.  

We always miss those family members that cannot join in - like my cousin who now lives in Sydney.  It's not the same without her but we all understand why she's there and we are truly happy for her.  I think that's the essence of our family.  We actually care about each other.  It's not a superficial veneer.  There is honest affection, consideration and love for each other.  And I know, no matter what happens, they will be there for me.

I have missed out on my family for over a decade and I find it positively rejuvenating to be immersed in them again.  I am recharged (albeit exhausted and perhaps suffering short term hearing damage) after being surrounded by my family.  Around them I can truly be me.  I can wear what I want, say what I think and know that it will make no difference to them. I am free to mingle with kids, playing games and talking shit but equally accepted in deep and meaningful conversations with my peers and my elders.  

I can see the patience in the men in our family who put up with the antics of us women; we are a vibrant lot!  I also see how damn lucky those same men are to be surrounded by strong, competent, beautiful and intelligent women.  Women who are capable, confident and sassy.  

I am proud to be a part of my family; ashamed that I allowed myself to be pulled away for so long but thankful to be in among it again.

Fairy tales

I postulate that our society is fundamentally flawed.  Our children are exposed to stereotypes and the glorification of life from birth.  Ergo they cannot possibly expect to grow up balanced and mentally stable.   Our daughters are fed fairy tales of beautiful women being swept off their feet by gorgeous princes who deliver flowers, ride horses and protect them from the evils in life.  Our sons are led to believe that they can fight anyone that crosses them (and win).  They are imbibed with images of muscled men with chiseled jaws and unparalleled ninja skills; exceptionally coordinated, brave and indestructible.

And the truth is that the Disney version of the fairy tales that are intravenously fed to our children are not an accurate reflection of the original stories.  In the original story Snow White was forced to put on red hot shoes and dance until she died; Pinnochio was hanged for his lies; the princess did not kiss the frog to turn him back to a prince but threw him against a wall; Hansel and Gretel's parents abandon them because they are too poor to feed them and the French version of Sleeping Beauty sees the prince rape her while she is in a coma.

It's no wonder there are so many people with skewed ideas of life; of how to treat others and what to expect in their future.  There are so many people that treat others terribly. And, they consistently get away with it.  Moreover, people actively chase these personality types; seeking their approval, desperate to spend time with them.  It perplexes me.  I find it morbidly fascinating.


I think that's one of the reasons I love Brave so much.  Merida is not the classic princess.  She is a skilled archer with wild hair and zero table manners.  I love that she fights for her freedom and does not end up marrying the prince.

I plan on teaching my children differently; passing on the life skills that I am learning currently as they grow up.  Life is not perfect.  Far from it in fact.  I have realised that we need to be equipping our children with the ability to be self sufficient (read self confident).  Rather than protecting them from the evils and complexities of life, we need to be teaching them the skills they will need to cope with the inevitable ups and downs that will come their way.  

Our daughters (for the most part) will not become princesses.  Likewise, our sons will not be parkour masters.  They need to realise, and learn to cope with, the fact that the world is a tough and indiscriminate place.  Moreover, I need to learn and accept that before I can pass that wisdom onto my children and equip them with the skills to get through life less scarred than I am.  

Like many others, I was fed the fairy tales.  I was led to believe that my life would work out okay; that everyone gets the happy ending; that I would be loved and cherished.  The truth is otherwise.  However, because of my ingrained way of thinking, I can not cope with nor accept the fact that I am unlovable regardless of how much I need to.  I am thirty six years old and I need to re-learn all the fundamental truths I once took as fact.  

Despite my name, I am actually not lovable.  Nor am I worthy of love.  I am not perfect, nor will I ever achieve perfection regardless of how hard I try.  I am not going to be exceptional at anything.  I, like 99.99% of the population am nothing special.  I am not unique.  I am  Acceptance will take a long time but hopefully it will bring peace.

I'm my own worst enemy

"I don't want to be my friend no more. I want to be somebody else" - Pink

This is not how I want to be.  I used to be smart; be able to make decisions and follow through with them.  Right now, I am incapable of doing so and my frustration at that is mounting daily.  Like the unhelpful relative that tells someone with a mental illness, I just want to snap out of it.  I know and appreciate that I have spiraled downwards for many years and I know that the evidence suggests it will take months to be able to have the strength to be able to dig my way out of my cesspool but some days I am just so over wading through the pile of crap that my life has amounted to that I just want something, anything to not be a struggle. I am not expecting life to be easy.  But one day without drama or incident would be very welcome right now.

Like someone at work said during the week about a project we're working on "it's like trying to swim through molasses".  Except molasses is sticky and sweet.  My life is just a sticky, rotting pool of filth that I desperately try to wash off each and every day.  I have to admit that I cannot see progress.  For all the effort I am putting in, I cannot see that I am moving forward.  At all.

The optimist in me battles on but, like a cornered coward, I have little left to give. I am waging a war against the injustice of the legal system.  I am losing but I persist.  If for no other reason than that I will be able to tell my children that I did all that I could.  That, like in my failed marriage, I fought with every fibre of my being.  That I did all that I knew how to do.  That I did not give up.  That I refuse to give up easily.  That I spend hours every night pouring over legal cases looking for something, anything that will assist.  That I come up with nothing night after night but I keep going back.  Searching, scrambling, clutching at the slightest glimmer of hope.

I fight battle after battle.  With each battle I am more scarred, more damaged, more broken.  With every war I rage I come out with less conviction, less faith in my ability and less in reserve to battle with.  With each assault I realise that I am going to continue to be screwed over for the decisions I have made and for my lack of foresight.  With each passing week, I can see the dream I have slipping through my fingers.  It's like trying to hold onto jelly.  What little good I had in my life is melting before my eyes and there is nothing I can do about it.  The stronger I try to clutch it the faster it melts.

Respect

Respect yourself enough to walk away from anything that no longer serves you, helps you to grow or makes you happy.

Doughnuts

It's a hard lesson to learn in life but if people consistently give you nothing for all the effort you put in, it's time to face facts and admit that they're just not interested.  Sometimes it's important for self preservation to realise when you mean nothing to someone and move away from that.

When people give you doughnuts, you might as well put the kettle on and make a cup of tea!

Giving thanks

I have been pondering for a long time about issuing thank yous to the people in my life that have had an influence on  me.  I imagine that people are mostly unaware of the influence their actions have on other people.  I am flattered when someone tells me that I had an influence on their life, whether it be the smallest insignificant thing or something pretty major.  Therefore, I am going to make a start on that quest.

There are, of course, the obvious ones.  My Mum, Dad and sister are all fucking awesome; each in their own way.  Mum pushes my boundaries, always expecting more from me and encouraging me to do better.  Dad silently sits on the sidelines, providing pearls of wisdom intermittently.  My sister is the most spectacular woman I know.  She is strong and unrelenting.  She has a plan and will execute it to perfection.  She makes things work for her and plays the game like a pro.  I envy her but I know I will never be like her.  We are too different for me to be like her.  She finds that really hard to understand at times; I have a greater ability to grasp and embrace our differences.

Then there's my extended family.  I have brilliant cousins and my aunt has been through similar life experiences and is able to share them with me and provide some insight from someone on the other side.  There are also lifelong friends who are always there at the drop of a hat to listen to me wallow in my shit and provide me with a cup of tea.

I have been astounded at people's generosity in the last year. For example, my sister put together a beautiful sticker montage for me as a housewarming present.  I treasure it.  For Christmas, I received three gifts that made my day.  My cousin's girlfriend gave me an inspirational poster that I plan to frame and hang in my kitchen when I can afford it.  My cousin gave me a book entitled "Yes, you can" full of inspirational quotes.  My other cousin gave me some cool "it's raining men" body wash that makes me smile each and every time I use it (and I use it sparingly so it can stay in my shower a little longer).  

Then I think about other influential people.  Like sexy man number one, who I have mentioned previously, who encouraged me to run and showed me that I was strong enough to build up endurance, regardless of my starting point and that it did not matter how fast or far I ran as long as I enjoyed it.  He taught me the beauty of the endorphin rush that only comes from running.

Then, the number one influence in my life, the best friend I have ever had.  He is awesome - smart, funny, charismatic, personable and incredibly talented.  He taught me so many things in life and about myself.  He was the first person outside my family to tell me that it's okay to be sensitive; that it's not necessarily a flaw but something to be nurtured. I had always imagined that we would travel the world together.  Alas, the world had other plans and it never happened.  This man is the ultimate gentleman.  He showed me how important friendship can be and stood by me regardless of what happened.  He always knows exactly what to say and is a font of wisdom.  He has exceptional taste but still tolerated my love for pop music.  He is adored by women and admired by other men.  He has a plethora of friends and is attentive to his large family.  He has his shit sorted and priorities set right.  He is the first person that tried to teach me that I was enough.  Just me.  Unfortunately, I was too young and naive to see.  I will, however, be thankful for the foundation he laid for me.  I return to it often.  It is my rock when the sea is washing over me, trying to draw me away from the shore.

For me, he will forever be my knight in shining armour.  I love him more deeply (in a non-romantic way) than I have ever loved anyone outside my family.  He' saw my shit and liked me anyway.  He was under no obligation to do so but chose that.  It gives me faith that, considering there are another three or so billion men out there, someone else might be able to do so too.

Looking back

I have recently spent a lot of time looking back over previous relationships.  They all follow the same pattern.  The guy finds me beautiful and funny.  He can't keep his hands off me; wants to spend lots of time with me.  He gets to know me and that pattern continues.  Until something happens.  I don't know what.  Then it's like a switch is flicked and that all changes.

I am a scientist first and foremost.  I work on evidence and the evidence stacks up pretty high on this one.  I can only assume that, once they actually see the real me, I don't stack up.  They have this illusion in their head about the person I am and I can't actually meet their expectations.

I know I can be needy, I know I get jealous but I am human.  I am not infallible.  I never claim to be perfect, although I do tend to have perfectionist traits.  Apparently I am cold and confrontational too.  I had no idea. In fact, I would have said the exact opposite - I hate conflict and avoid it like the plague.

Perhaps it is that the veneer is attractive but what's underneath is so broken and battered that it's just not worth it.  What they initially find irresistible is paper-thin at best and tears with the slightest touch.

Perhaps it is that, when I love someone, I love them unconditionally.  They can sniff that shit out and take advantage of that.  They know that I am loyal and dedicated so they run with it and see how much they can get away with.  And, because I love them, I let them.  I don't put up boundaries or enforce rules.  I don't make demands on their time or behaviours.  As a result they do what they want when they want.  I enable them to pick and choose.  For them, it's all conditional.

For example: I ask, are you free on Thursday?  They respond with what did you have in mind?  Rather than push the matter, I oblige.  They then have the ability to decide whether my plans are worthy of their time.  It's not that they actually want to spend time with me.  It's that what I have in mind is something they want to do.

This has me rethinking the way that I am.  To be honest, I don't want to change.  I have finally started to come around to the fact that I like who I am.  But I m sick of being treated like this.  It is heartbreaking and soul destroying.  And it shatters my fragile, minute fragments of self esteem.  It reinforces to me that the essence of me is unlovable.  That the true heart of me is fundamentally flawed.

If I want to be treated differently; with respect, love and affection that lasts more than a couple of months then I need to address this shit.  I need to get to the bottom of what is wrong with me and fix it.  What is it that makes men turn off all the things I love?  The random touches, the hugs, the sneaky kisses, the email/text conversations. the desire to spend time with me (and putting in the effort to initiate same).  Why is it that the compliments stop?  Am I so rotten on the inside that what attracted them to me in the first place is no longer pretty?  Do my personality flaws mean that my physical attractiveness diminishes over time?  And what is it about me that makes people think it's ok to consistently let me down?  From friends who make plans and cancel at the last minute, to those that make promises to call/email/Skype and never follow through.  I believe they all have the same basis.  They say these things to appease me, to shut me up but actually have no intention of following through.  I need to put an end to it.  I don't cope well with disappointment.  I'd rather be told the truth straight up.  I can't handle uncertainty.  My imagination is incredible (trust me, no one wants to know what's going on in my head) and I, while I am sure it doesn't stack up to the reality, I would prefer to know the truth.  I need to get that message across effectively as it is a self protective mechanism. 

So, I am going to try to explore this further.  I am going to seek out answers through experimentation.  Science holds the answer.  I just need to sharpen up those skills again as I have not used them in years.

Inspiration

I've been looking for something to cheer me up all day.  I found nothing.  Until now.  If only I had money to travel...

Cyclone warning

Holy fuck.  I feel like shit today.

I am absolutely shattered. I am surrounded by chaos.  Every time I think I have hit the darkest point something manages to turn the lights down a bit more.  I am overwhelmed.  The cascade of shit is coming at me from every angle.

I was just beginning to feel like I had a handle on things. It was still a daily struggle but one that I could work through.  I had coping strategies in place and was just managing to keep my head above water.  However, a combination of events on Sunday and yesterday have me reeling again.  The cyclone has hit and I am swirling round and round in circles achieving nothing. 

I get advice from every motherfucker and while I appreciate the intention behind it sometimes it is just not helpful.  I know I am in a cesspool of filth.  Pointing it out serves no purpose. And, unlike the proverbial old dog, I just cannot seem to learn new tricks.  My intelligence has gone AWOL and I want it back.  I used to be able to plan, organise and think ahead.  Now I struggle to make simple decisions - down to what to have on a bagel!

My kids are, and always have been, a ray of sunshine in my day.  Lately, however, I have been missing the mark with them too. I just cannot seem to connect to them at the moment.  They are fragile, argumentative and angry.  I know that all these emotions are normal and natural. The hard thing is following through with actions that are in their best interest even when what I want is contrary to that.  When every fiber of my being just wants to act differently, I will take the steps against the prevailing winds that mean that my children are protected. I will stand out in the rain.  I will dry myself off and hope that I come out of it a little cleaner.  Furthermore, I will teach them the skills I am learning at the moment and they will be better equipped for life as a result. 

Following recent events, I wrote a very carefully worded and painfully constructed e-mail overnight and sent it off to their father this morning.  I am dreading the fallout but I am a mother first and foremost and I will continue to do what is best for my children for the rest of their lives.  When it comes down to it, this is not about me and, while it causes me ultimate sadness to be apart from them, my children are my priority. 

I know I was no use to them previously.  I was a shell of a being who was checking out of life in order to cope.  I just hope that, with time, they will understand the reason behind my decisions.  I keep having to remind myself that they are better off having a happy, healthy and emotionally available mother on a daily basis from afar than having an unhappy, unhealthy, emotionally unavailable zombie in their house. And the time we spend together now is just so beautiful.  We laugh, play and have fun.  I was not like that with them previously.

One of my problems is that I am not a patient person.  I hate waiting.  I need to constantly remind myself that some things are worth the wait.  My children are intelligent, considerate and reasonable (they get that from their Mum!).  In time they will see that I have stood by them, supported them and never left their side.  I may not be close geographically but I am now emotionally available.  I am putting up walls all over the place but there will never be anything between me and my children.  I will fight against them when they construct walls and I will tear them down like the vines that try to pull me back.  I am determined as fuck.  This is one fight I will not back down from.  There are battles I will lose but I am going to win this war. 

Smooth it over

"Everyone you know is trying to smooth it over, trying to find a way to make the hurt go away" - Pink

I know my friends and family have the best of intentions; what I am going through is unfamiliar territory for most of us and they are doing what they believe is the best for me.  I appreciate that.  I am flattered and floored by it.  I am astounded at the generousity and consideration I have received in the last year.  

I am also amazed at how for off the mark some people are.  I have had many occasions where I have thought "What the fuck!?".  Yesterday I had one of those moments and it was mammoth.  I won't go into details but, suffice to say, I am going to be much firmer with ground rules in the future.  Some things are an inconvenience; others are a challenge and then there are those that are downright unacceptable.

Some things in life you just don't learn unless you experience them first hand.  Onward and upwards!

Run Forrest, run

I hate autumn.  It's a daily downhill slide to winter - the cold air takes your breath away when you walk outside; it's dark when I run in the morning and at night when I get home from gym; there are no good wardrobe choices to be able to cater for the freeze at either end of the day and the mild spike in temperature in the middle; the heater needs to be on in the evening and morning but not when you're actually sleeping; there are fools that insist on driving in the darkness without lights on and others have lost the ability to drive in the wet (like summer wipes their memory or something).

Today's first world issue of note is the fact that I have to layer up to run in the morning - full length leggings, reflective jacket, long sleeve top and singlet.  And I still shiver for the first five minutes.  Then, at about fifteen minutes, I am too hot.  I am an impatient bitch though, so today I refused to stop to reduce the layers.  I managed to take my jacket off and tie it around my waist without incident but when I tried to take off my long sleeve top I had a self-induced wardrobe malfunction and took my singlet with it.  Panic ensued as I tried to disentangle the singlet from the top while juggling my phone.  And all this, of course, happened on a major artillery in front of a stream of pre-peak hour traffic. 

Happy Monday!  

Accepting the good

Saturday was a good day.  Sure, there were crappy moments in my day; no day is ever perfect.  But I refuse to let the shit in life constantly drag me down.

I woke up without an alarm and managed a run in morning then vacuumed with Metallica blasting and did two loads of washing before going to buy some gorgeous bread and some gifts for people I love.  I squeezed in a session at the gym then a visit to my aunt where I caught up with my two gorgeous cousins and my cousin's girlfriend.  Mum visited and we planted some bulbs together.

I saw a rainbow en route to stay with a precious friend who pampered me beautifully (for which I am ever so grateful) and allowed me special dispensation to stand on the hearth in front of a roaring blaze and soaked up the healing power of heat.

My friend, his son and I shared a gorgeous dinner of fresh soup (and aforementioned bread) then went to another friends' house where we dined on a delicious Ferrero Rocher cheesecake and chatted for hours.  I walked away not only full of cheesecakey goodness and a sense of contentment but with a lovely gift for my house as well!

On Saturday, I won against me demons. In stark contrast to Saturday, today was a total disaster.  But I am choosing to focus on the positive and try to move through the clusterfuck that was today.

Randoms

I  had an awkward start to a night of dancing on Thursday night.  En route, my dancing companion sent a text saying she was caught up with work and wouldn't be able to make it.  I was dressed and nearing my destination at the time.  I had a choice to make - turn around, wash myself off and spend the night at home or continue.  I chose the latter.  

I turned up at my favourite Thursday night venue and queued in the cold.  My resolve started to shake like my torso against the cold Melbourne autumn night.  Then, a young lady in the queue commented that she loved my eyeshadow.  That started a conversation which led to her introducing me to her friends.  They turned out to be an interesting group of twenty-something year old women who had rejected full time work to travel the world.  None of them knew each other initially but they have formed a posse of fifteen over the last eighteen months and their group continues to grow.  They were proudly showing me the stamps in the passports and sharing stories of their part time/casual work adventures.  When we entered the club they went their way and I went mine.

There are a couple of reasons I like this particular venue - it's in  laneway; the music is always worthy of dancing (even when the spunky DJ is not working) and they send out a promotional text which, if you are there at around nine, entitles you to $50 worth of drink cards.  Ergo, I can have a very inexpensive night out which is what I need as I am broke.

As I had driven in, I went straight to the bar and ordered a mojito (so there was plenty of dancing hours with which to burn it off).  I obviously had drink cards leftover so, as I danced and enjoyed my cocktail, I surveyed the crowd to find a suitable recipient.  There were a group of ladies dancing energetically nearby so I tapped the closest one and gave her my drink cards.  Initially she thought I was returning her cards and when she went to put them into her pocket told me that she hadn't dropped them.  I explained that I was driving and it looked like she was having a big one so she might as well do it on the house.  She thanked me then kindly invited me to dance with her group of friends.  Six months ago, even if I had wanted to do so, I would have declined but the new me took the opportunity to say yes.  And I am so glad I did.  They were an awesome bunch of women and I had an absolute blast!  In fact, they even invited me to join them again.  Even if I never hear from that group of women again, I am thankful that I had an awesome night out with a great bunch of intelligent, fun and interesting women.

I love rendezvouses with randoms.  I love the wandering conversations I have as a result of the fact that there are no preconceived ideas or expectations.  In fact, I have had some brilliant encounters with randoms in the last year or so.  There was the night where a friend and I were admiring a beautiful building in the CBD only to be invited up by a man who owned an apartment in the building.  He gave us a rundown of its history, showed us the communal areas and the exquisite view.  Then there was the night where I danced with someone I later found is 'worth' one hundred million dollars; and when I chatted to a guy who turned out be the CEO of one of Melbourne's premier legal firms.  One particular night I ended up having a very interesting moral debate with a member of Australia's pro-choice abortion rights activists.  While I would always prefer to be with friends, I love that  night out alone can turn on a dime based on who you run into.

Then there are micro-meetings with randoms.  The people that make a comment and walk away.  Like a tradie yesterday who saw fit to tell me my pants were too big for me; a man at a club who once told me I was a terrible dancer and that I needed to learn to "flow"; a guy at the gym said I really shouldn't do any more weights because I have manly arms and the homeless alcoholic sitting in the gutter who stated that I didn't deserve to wear short skirts because my knees are wrinkly.  Admittedly, these encounters are all too frequent for my liking.  I seem to attract criticism.

On the flip side, there are randoms that will issue compliments too.  Like the lady who walked across the street to ask me where I bought my leggings because she loved them and wanted a pair too; the barman who said my bracelet was beautiful; a guy who walked across the room to tell me I was pretty; the boyfriend of a lady I was chatting to who said I deserved to be adored; the bouncer who said he couldn't understand why every man in the venue was not flocking toward me and a group of young ladies who came and asked me to give them dancing lessons.

In fact, I came across an article about the power of compliments from randoms recently.  I have even issued random compliments when I think they are deserved - spread the love people!

Self reliance

I love Pink.  I think she's awesome - intelligent, interesting, insightful, honest and talented.  I love that she inspires me to rethink things.  I know I have a screwed up headspace.  I accept that most of the issues I have are in my head.  I know that I have a lot of work ahead of me.  I know that I will be forever scarred, damaged and, perhaps, unlovable as a result.

I also know that "I don't need no jean to take care of me".  Sure, there are plenty of things I hope for in the future - love, compassion and respect - but monetary support is not something I need.  I don't expect anyone to pay for me.  Ever.  Is it lovely and sweet if someone does?  Hell yes!  But I have zero expectation on other people.  I have no sense of entitlement.

I have no issues in paying for other people.  I do it as frequently as I can afford to.  It brings me great joy.  I wish I could afford to do it more often to be honest.

Following a comment from one of my most treasured friends earlier in the week, when I take a step back and critically analyse myself perhaps I don't scrub up too badly.  I realised today that I am not like most women.  Not only do I have zero expectation for someone to pay my way; I am pretty self-reliant too.  I can mow the lawns (in fact, apart from the wipper snipper part, I actually like mowing).  I can change a light globe, a fuse and a tyre.  I can make minor modifications around the house.  I have no issue with carrying heavy stuff or with getting dirty (when appropriately attired) and I have even learnt to deal with spiders!  I   can give myself a (passable) french manicure.  I hold a professional job.  I love wholeheartedly; once someone holds a space in my heart I will love them forever.  Not necessarily in the same capacity, relationships change over time, but I will never let them go. I am loyal. I am dedicated.  I am determined.  I truly care about people.  I want good things for the people I love; whether it is with me or not.  And, according to interactions in the last few months, apparently I have a sense of humour too; something I was not aware of previously.

When I came to the realisation today that I might have something to offer the world, despite my broken state, I found a sense of relief.  Acceptance of my current predicament is easier when I take objective stock of my 'skills'.  I have been pleasantly surprised at what I have been able to come up with.  I will, no doubt, need to constantly remind myself of the results of my investigation as my confidence constantly waivers but I continue to see more light.

A lady after my own heart

I came across the dancing Nana on Facebook a couple of months ago.  She is a lady with attitude.  A lady without a care in the world (though Alzheimer's may be a contributing factor in that!).   On bad days (of which I have plenty) I listen to music as a way of coping.  I can get lost in the lyrics or the beat or the memories a song invokes.  I can transport myself out of the cesspool I am in and to another place.  I find great solace in music.  

Dance, for me, is a physical expression of mood.  A physical expression of what's going on inside.  I dance all the time.  In the shower, in the kitchen, while hanging the washing, when walking down the street, while waiting in line, at my desk, in the hallway, in the car - you name it!  

A dear friend asked me on the weekend what I really wanted to do growing up.  When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be a mother.  As a teen I wanted to do medicine but the thought of dealing with cadavers was unimaginabe.  As an early adult I would have loved to be a teacher.  I stumbled into a science degree and, while I love it, it did not provide me with the stimulation I required.  I love working in IT.  I love that (with time and money) anything is possible.  But if I could be paid to do anything I wanted, I would choose to dance.  Realism kicks in and I accept that I have no skills in that area, only a passion.  I am too old to be clinically trained in dance and too uncoordinated to learn new tricks (plus, I don't have the strength, the fitness, the flexibility or the stamina).  But, in a Utopian society, I would choose to dance.  

For now, I will have to be content to dance up a storm for the pure enjoyment of it.  Like our gorgeous YouTube Nana so eloquently puts it "I could dance all fucking day".

Letting the light shine

I am starting to see signs of light.  Even in my darkest moments I am not as low as I was previously.  I still have a long way to go but I am thankful for my recent hospital admission.  It has allowed me to see my reality with new perspective.  I know that I have a great support network and I am very thankful for that.  

However, I have come to accept that I can rely on no one but me.  I am the only one with me 24/7.  I am surrounded by myself.  I need to be my own saving grace.  I let my resilience and strength waive.  I was covered in strangling vines that weighed me down for years.  I will never again be held back.  Not by other people nor  myself.  Like a gardening fighting the unrelenting power of ivy, I will hack away at those vines (possibly for the rest of my life) but I will keep at it and I will win.  I can be one determined son of a bitch when I set my mind to something.  Besides, "a dame that knows the ropes isn't likely to get tied up".

I will let my inner light shine through.  I will cast myself in the light of my halo (not of the angelic variety, no.  I choose to take a leaf out of Mae West's book and stick to the theory that "when I am good I am very, very good but when I am bad I am better").

Fuck the world!  I don't care what people think as I dance down the street with music blaring and hot chocolate in hand at 7am.  Again, Mae comes to mind "It is better to be looked over than overlooked".

And in the words of Elanor Roosevelt "Do what you feel in your heart to be right, for you will be criticised anyway".