From the outside looking in, you might see a woman of privilege. You might see a woman who struggles with her weight. You might see a woman who is dealing with grief. You might see a woman who is confident and knows what she wants. Let's face it. Whatever you see, you see through you own experiences and how you perceive them. That is how any of us see each other. The only real way to know someone is to sit down and listen to their stories. But first, they have to be willing to share their stories with you. If they are not, then it is only natural to fill in blanks where you can. It is also natural not to ask questions of things you assume could cause pain...telling yourself, "if they really wanted to tell me, they would. It is not my place to ask."
So we sit across a restaurant and watch people and we create stories about them. These stories are based on body and facial expressions. They might be based on an over heard conversation. They might be based on the clothing they are wearing or the gadgets they are using. We make judgments and assumptions about people all of the time. Sometimes, is harmless and sometimes we inadvertently cause harm.
I tend to live my life as an open book. If you know me, if you read my blog, you already know that I tend to over share. So really, you might think that you know me. You might think you know me because of my blog. You might think you know me because of what I say on facebook. But how well do you really know me? Hell, you might even think you know me because you live with me or you are my best friend. But really. How well do you know me? How well do you know anyone in your life?
In this day and age, we can live in the same house with 6 people and never have a meaningful conversation. Everyone separates into their own rooms. The TV is on an you are glued to it. Computers are permanently placed on laps as if they are actual appendages. Hands feel empty and souls feel lost when a phone is not in your firm grasp. And we have lost the art of conversation. We have lost the ability to sit around a fire and share stories and have meaningful conversations. You could spend your entire life living in your house that you share with strangers you call family. That is so sad to think about, but I know that in my family, that can be so true.
There is nothing better than sitting around a fire pit and talking. There is nothing better than sitting around the table playing a stupid game of Cards Against Humanity and laughing our asses off while also having meaningful conversations at the same time. There is nothing better than a walk around the block with my hubby at night.. no phones..no computers..no TVs..just us and the annoying barking neighbor dogs.
I have seen so many posts on facebook about what an "introvert" is or how an "introvert" acts. But I think to myself, even though I love being on stage, if you put me in a crowd of people, I will shrink. I will not talk. I am seriously awkward and I just want to go home. I would much rather have an intimate gathering of people at my house than go to someone else's house where, even though I know them on a very surface level, I am not comfortable talking with them. A couple of weeks ago, I went to a party and actually had real conversations with people and I swear it was the first time that has ever happened. I think burlesque has helped with that. But what I can say, if I have an emotional disturbance in my life, I will talk the hell out of it. I will share. Mostly because talking (like writing) is my therapy. I'm not sure I am so much of an introvert as I am just shy. I love people. But I don't love talking to people. And I do get warn out when I am around lots of people all of the time. I like my solitude; it recharges me. I think I run right smack in the middle between introvert and extrovert. *shrug*
This blog is all over the place, and not going where I thought it was going.
Here is the thing. I will talk about most anything. If you ask me, I will tell you the truth..always.. even if it is too much for you to understand. I am a 100% open book. But there are only a few hand chosen people who know me and my entire story. As a matter of fact, up until a couple of weeks ago, there was only one person in my entire life watch me relive my rapes as my unconscious took over an rendered me useless and a crying mess begging for it to stop and thrashing trying to get away from my attacker. The moment I came back from that horrendous nightmare, I was humiliated that my friend was witness to such insanity.
I say this because...no one ever really knows every thing about one person. And appearances are just that.. appearances. What one person sees as rich, another person sees as poor. What one person sees as poor, another person sees as rich. Money is not the determining factor in happiness. Money is not even the determining factor in rich (since rich is really someone else's perception of what they see). And just because someone may look like they have all of their rubber duckies in a row, does not mean that they are perfect..it just means they have some things in their life in order.
What I also know to be true is just because I have been raped on numerous occasions, and just because sometimes I relive those rapes in horrible gut wrenching ways, it does not mean that I am a victim or that I will ever live with a victim mentality. Just because my perception of my childhood is one of abuse does not mean that is my brothers' perceptions. Nor does it mean, that I will live my life as a victim of abuse. I get to choose each day how I live my life. I could choose to live my life saying.. "I was raped at a very young age by several people... and it continued into adulthood.. my life sucks and I will never be able to be happy" or I can choose to say, "Yup, my childhood was rough. I endured more than most people can even comprehend. And I made a choice to live beyond that. I made a choice to live BECAUSE of that. And it made me a stronger, better person."
We all have choices. Some days, I don't make great choices. Some days, I get angry at what the universe has dealt me. Some days I get really angry for no really great reason. Some days I lose sight that we are all connected and that we are all one.. and that when one suffers, we all suffer. (Or better yet, when we love one, we love all.) We have choices. We can hold this shit in and not reach out for help, or we can open up and receive the help hat is offered to us. Everything is a choice.
I am grateful for those who have helped me along the way. I am grateful for those who have loved me though some of my darkest times. I am grateful for my friends who have looked into the madness and held me through it. I am grateful for the gift of forgiveness..for being able to say "Thank you for giving me these lessons" and for being able to say, "I love you". I am grateful for being able to let go of anger and let love enter. I am grateful for those who looked beyond perceptions and took the time to listen to me when I opened up. I am grateful for those who did not pry when I was closed up, but were there just in case. And I am grateful for those who have called me out on my shit and asked the hard questions like, "When are you going to stop telling that story and change it?"
I have no idea why these words fell the way they fell tonight....this was not my intention when I sat down to type. But my heart is open wide tonight....so I will leave you with this... the Ho'oponopono mediation. "I love you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you."
PS... I think I sound like a pompous ass *laugh*
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