Emancipate Yourselves From Metal Slavery
I’ve put my finger on it. I’ve discovered something. And the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. My life has been a certain way for a long time. It’s like actors who play similar roles a few times and find themselves forever typecast into playing the same roles for the rest of their careers, because that’s how they are known, and to try and pretend to be anything else would be unconvincing to the public. I owe nobody an explanation. I can appreciate that some people’s perceptions of me have been heavily based on the fact that I was with somebody once. But I’m not anymore. I am an independent individual who should not be looked upon or perceived as someone belonging to someone else, or by association, necessarily. I don’t know people. I do occasionally refer to a person by their relationship to others, I admit, but I do also do my best to get to know who they are. They are people apart from others.
It occurred to me in almost the same moment that the reason people generally see me as a friend, is because I have a lot of friends who are extremely respectful of boundaries. I had noticed that almost immediately after the shit hit the fan, a few “friendlier” friends were coming out of the woodwork. I’m sorry for those who had their valiant efforts fall on my ignorance. At least at that point, I wasn’t ready, or just didn’t share your feelings. For anyone who was stung by that– I’m sorry. You weren’t meant to get hurt.
It all comes back to perception. How do people see me? I don’t know. I try my best to conduct myself as I am, but that doesn’t really translate for me in the way you all see that.
Someone told me last night that I have great spirit. Those who’ve known me longer may disagree. I know that in the past, I would definitely have disagreed. Once upon a time, I was a great, pessimistic defeatist, who was absolutely sure things were already falling apart before I had them. Patterns in my life of that nature have tended to repeat themselves often. But towards the end of my self-betterment, I discovered that being that depressed and negative attracts negativity. In fearing the worst as a means to prepare for it, and expecting impending doom to befall me all the time, I was perpetuating it. I had to learn to have the faith to turn away my fear and deny it a place in my heart. Doubt is one thing, I can chalk that up to gut instinct– at least in most circumstances. But I need to run off the edge of that cliff if the one thing I want is waiting at the bottom, or I may find myself standing on the edge of that precipice for the rest of time, always wondering what could have been.
In Grade 12, Barry told me that he imagined me going off into the world as an adult, and being swept off of my feet by a really amazing, intelligent, dashing, coffee drinking () man who wanted a life with me. Even when I wasn’t in a position to want that, I did. I suppose because for me, that situation always felt so likely. If my life ends a tragedy, at least I can say it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least I fought my damned tragedy instead of just letting it happen to me.
And this tends to be something I have to actually tell people: I am a good girl who doesn’t drink and smoke or do drugs because I’ve chosen not to. I’ve had drinks, and the only time I’ve ever been drunk was as a result of my diabetes, not as a result of drinking too much. I was never a drinker. I always limited myself to two or less, but I do believe the most I’ve had in one evening is three. I’ve never smoked. Never. I’ve lived around smokers all my life and never liked it. I never had the urge to pick one up and light it, and I never gave in to peer pressure (mostly because the bulk of my friends were nonsmokers too– quite a few still don’t smoke). As far as drugs go, I’ve previously and briefly experimented with pot, but that’s as deep as that issue goes. I never really dated in high school. There was one friend I wanted to date in junior high, but that never happened, and the only person I ever dated in high school was my ex, and only for senior year. My Dad likes to believe I was raised a demure girl because of his iron fist. It’s not true. Teenagers are incredibly inventive. There were most certainly ways around his iron fist and his idle threatening. I didn’t date because there was nobody worthy of it. I didn’t party because the kind of partying going on was for people who lacked creativity to amuse themselves constructively. There were too many young Mothers in my school, and I was determined not to be one of them. When I have babies, I want to have them with someone who deserves to be the Father of my children, who deserves to have a dedicated, loving Wife. This man in my life is going to be a great Father. My heart says so. I am who I am, because I fought to be me. I worked hard to become this person. I got lost for a little while… (but now I’m found– was blind but now I see).
In other news, I treated myself today and bought Juno. I waited on it for a good week before I caved, just to be sure that I really wanted it. Apparently I did.
Love would never leave us alone, A-yin the darkness there must come out to light.