Be you
I turned my head while in my car today at a stoplight. This is what I saw.
Complicated, this.
This life. So full with its expectations. So full with its experiences. With its utter capacity to celebrate or destroy. This life, with which we are utterly equipped, yet so frequently unable to live to its potential.
Because we are afraid to be who we are.
I know this, because at the root of my gloomy despair rests a deep and abiding hatred. Of myself. Of the little offenses and the big trespasses. Of the fundamental philosophical differences that I have with people I respect. I hate that I have allowed so much time hating the fact that I have dared to survive.
I remember very little before I was seventeen. There are glimpses, I remember people and some events, but large blocks of time are forever gone to me. The Shrink seems to think that I have such a hatred of myself, even as a child that I have decided to just forget. But that girl, the one I was is still there.
And I hate her.
She’s done nothing to me, yet I envy her innocence. I envy her talent. I envy her fearlessness. I envy her relentless, delicious bravery. I envy her open doors and her unlimited potential. The potential unfettered by time and tragedy.
She and I share more than I care to admit. We are both shunned by our father, taught that we were just to stay out of the way. She bucked the system and fought. I shrink and disappear. I am that shattered girl, bleeding to coldness on the bathroom floor. She is afraid to be herself. I am familiar with the sentiment.
I would love to raise the voice I’ve been gifted with and say “This is me, love it or don’t, it doesn’t change me.”
But I don’t. I fall silently away and let opinion take me over. That girl inside of me, the one with the fire, she rages and the battle begins. It grows tiresome.
So, maybe I will.
This is me. I am at once a liar and too honest. I think before I speak and think too much and don’t speak at all. I will protect you before I protect myself, I have a very weak sense of self preservation. I would rather you be happy with me than to be happy with myself.
I have bullshitted, guilted, bullied, cheated, stolen and been unfair. I’ve done it all of my own volition and it no fault but my own. I pick and choose what I hear and what I don’t hear, what I believe and what I don’t believe.
I need praise and affection yet receiving it makes me so uncomfortable that I cringe. I have nightmares, every night. I can sing like a bird, but I rarely do. I need to get my teeth cleaned. If I wear cheap shoes my feet stink to high heaven. I have thin hair. I will fight you, tooth and nail if I feel like you are being unfair, but deep down I don’t know that I deserve equality.
I love kids, but teenagers bug the fuck out of me.
More than likely I don’t share your politics. My victimization has made me wary and suspect of politicians. I trust too easily and not easily enough. I frequently ignore my instinct. I survived a tragedy but that doesn’t make me brave. It doesn’t make me better. It just makes me alive.
I have been surviving for years, but I have yet to flourish.
If you love me too much, I will push you until you are assured that I am too crazy to be worth it. I start things and don’t finish them. I’ve been in college for about 100 years.
I can exaggerate.
I have loved so much it hurts, hurt so much I am numb. I do not fart butterflies.
Sometimes I get so nervous that my eyes blink really fast and I look like I am having some sort of fit. Almost every day food makes me feel horrible. Literally. I take a bite and am immediately sick.
But sometimes I like to feel physically ill because it makes me forget how sick I am in the head.
I would take a bullet for my fiance, my mother, my sister, my brother, my niece. I wouldn’t for my father. I know that makes me horrid. I can’t force myself to change it. Better yet, I won’t force myself to change it. He’s made me bitter and scared, my father. I’ve chosen to do stupid and hurtful things to show him what he’s done.
It gets me nowhere and I know that ahead of time.
I love Karaoke. I love Twilight. I love Harry Potter. I take my bloody mary with extra tabasco and whatever pickled vegetable is lying around. Hannah Montana makes me twitch.
All of my hobbies are in preparation for me to be a grandma. Knitting, crochet, acrylic painting, cross stitch, embroidery, quilting. Except that I am direly afraid that I will never have kids.
All of these nutshell pieces reside behind a smile and a quick and self deprecating humor. You would never know that I am saying all of the things that I am afraid you’ll say. Before you can say them.
It is exhausting.
So, instead of hiding, now you know. This is me.
April 11th, 2009 at 3:02 am
And you are incredibly amazing just as you are. No need to fight it.
And not being willing to take a bullet for him? There was only one person I would have taken one for before I had kids. We’re self-preservationists, that’s okay. It’s what has helped us survive.
I think that stoplight was telling you something. It was telling us all something.
April 11th, 2009 at 4:54 am
You are beautiful.
April 11th, 2009 at 5:04 am
Flutter, it’s good to know you.
You know, in the last few years, maybe 34-now (38, almost 39) I’ve realized something and it might help you. It’s not an easy realization, but I’m settling into it. I had never realized it before but I don’t like myself, all of me. I mean, before I kinda thought I was alright. But there are parts of me that are just downright objectionable. Maybe that’s where you are. But the next step is accepting that it’s ok not to like all of me. That’s just the way it’s going to be. Sure, I’ll always try to be better but there are going to be things that I wouldn’t choose of me if I were standing and picking for a team. And that’s just gonna have to be ok. Ah shit, maybe you and I are in the same place. Now what?
April 11th, 2009 at 5:11 am
Love yourself. We love you. You can’t push us away. You can try, but really? Even if you find some way to block me, you know I’m out here rooting for you. And I’m not alone.
Have you tried horseradish in your Bloody Mary? Yum. Have you tried w/pickled okra? Double yum. I do love a good Bloody Mary, and yes – tabasco is a necessity. If it’s not spicy enough the drink will disappear too quickly so I’ve learned that spicier is better. Kinda like Flutter. Spicier is better. “Be you.” You’re no Rum Punch!
April 11th, 2009 at 5:19 am
You can love yourself without liking all of the parts. We should always strive to be better, improve, etc. Nobody’s perfect. In accepting that we’re not perfect we don’t have to like our imperfections.
When we give our love to others, we shouldn’t devalue that love with self-loathing. The Boy loves Flutter and he’s no dummy. In accepting his love and loving him back, hopefully you can see a bit of yourself through his eyes. … I’ve been working on this one myself.
BTW- when my grandson turned 4, I came out of the crocheting closet. I’m 44, crocheting for 30 years. Let me know if you want to exchange patterns (or I can send you a pair of potholders. I’ve been on a kick lately).
I love you.
April 11th, 2009 at 5:34 am
And this, all these things are the exact things that I have me all in love with you. You are so exquisitely human. Oh, but you know, I do fart butterflies.
April 11th, 2009 at 6:16 am
You’ve said just about everything in this post…It’s hard to just be, when who you are is contrary to public expectations. As children, I think we are encouraged to flourish, but in the end I believe most of us are doing all we can to survive.
I <3 U, flutter.
April 11th, 2009 at 6:55 am
We sound an awful lot alike sweetie. What you wrote, pretty much how I often think and or feel. As I get older though, I’m finding I can be much kinder and more compassionate with myself. There are so many things I want to do, people I want to help, things I want to change and I realized the other night that I can do nothing until I am kind to myself.
Sending a hug.
April 11th, 2009 at 7:02 am
And frankly, though you’re completely unique, as we all are, you’re an awful lot like the rest of us.
A walking contradiction. Scared, brave, loving, hateful, crazy, sane. Etc, etc.
If I sat down and really, really thought about everything I’d ever done or not done (not to say I haven’t), and analyzed it to death, I think I’d hate large portions of myself and my life, too.
But I am what I am – lovable – thanks to large portions of utter bullshit I’ve both given and received – and so are you.
I can’t change any of that shit, so I let go and get on with it.
You really are awesome.
April 11th, 2009 at 7:13 am
Hmmm, ‘be me’. I’m really not sure I know how.
You seem to be off to a great start, though!
April 11th, 2009 at 7:30 am
I love your crazy ass just the way you are. We all have shit to work on, some of us more than others.
I wouldn’t have taken a bullet for my dad, either. He was a bastard who treated me like dirt and caused unbelievable damage to me that it took years to get over. I’m glad that he was married to my stepmother when he died and that she was there to take care of him because frankly, I don’t think I would have. I did not feel I owed him just because he had sex with my mother. Maybe I would have taken care of him if push came to shove, but I think…not. I admire you that you are taking care of yours because I doubt he deserves it. So please don’t guilt yourself because you don’t feel you should have to take a bullet for him.
April 11th, 2009 at 7:37 am
There’s a song we used to sing in church that would always make me cry:
“Has anyone ever told you
you were anything less than beautiful?
How could anyone ever tell you
you were less than whole?
Has anyone ever told you
that your loving is a miracle –
how deeply you’re connected
to my soul?”
I hope we all find a way to love ourselves as we are.
April 11th, 2009 at 7:44 am
Oh, baby.
This line:
But sometimes I like to feel physically ill because it makes me forget how sick I am in the head.
It made me so sad. I’m sorry, honey. I hope that you can get to a place — and soon! — where you no longer have to feel this way.
April 11th, 2009 at 8:10 am
just my thought here:
just because someone is a blood relative doesn’t mean you are obligated to take a bullet for them. sometimes our blood relatives are assholes and don’t deserve us. and it’s okay to know that. it’s okay to believe it.
i do not absolve the assholes in my family from their assholery just because i’m supposed to.
that “supposed to” is generally what got us here in the first place.
and the ugly parts of people are always more interesting than the rest. the goodness is almost generic. the ugly parts make us who we are. and your ugly doesn’t make you an asshole so you automatically win.
April 11th, 2009 at 8:14 am
hello, you.
amazing what 2 words on the pavement can spark.
April 11th, 2009 at 8:15 am
i don’t know karate or how to play jalai, seriously, no clue at all
April 11th, 2009 at 8:50 am
I think a lot of us are thisclose to happiness and just can’t get out of our own way to get there.
I like you.
April 11th, 2009 at 8:53 am
I like you.
April 11th, 2009 at 9:10 am
“I would rather you be happy with me than to be happy with myself.”
Your words echo the running script in my mind, all day, every day….you say it so well.
“All of these nutshell pieces reside behind a smile and a quick and self deprecating humor. You would never know that I am saying all of the things that I am afraid you’ll say. Before you can say them.”
Again, you’ve said it all for me.
What is all this about and how do we move beyond? I’m probably 25 years down the line from you, maybe more. I guess the good news is that you are living this now when you have a chance to move beyond. I only started “getting this” and I don’t have as much time left.
Beautiful writing (as usual). You never cease to impress with the way you capture on paper (virtual paper) the crux, the kernel, the voice that must be heard.
Peace, my cyber friend. Peace.
April 11th, 2009 at 10:04 am
good stuff
April 11th, 2009 at 10:05 am
you are still deliciously brave and honest. And I am thankful….
<3 you.
Orangeblossoms
April 11th, 2009 at 10:13 am
I have bullshitted, guilted, bullied, cheated, stolen and been unfair. I’ve done it all of my own volition and it no fault but my own.
So you’ve lived. So have I. And there are big chunks of me that I hate, that another, better chunk of me is constantly telling NO NO WE CANT DO THAT.
I love you, sister. This post is full of that good, gushy stuff.
April 11th, 2009 at 10:23 am
mrs flutter, you are wonderful just as you are. in fact we lurchers are very fond of flatulence, as i am sure you know.
April 11th, 2009 at 10:28 am
i’m the same way with kids. i want to be an old lady with a table full of grandkids for thanksgiving (children are delicious at thanksgiving), but GAH with the birthing and the raising and will i ruin them? i’m sure i’ll ruin them, but maybe i won’t?
my coworkers have edward and bella cardboard people. we’re going to hide them in the bathroom of another coworker. it’s going to be awesome.
hanna montana can suck it.
April 11th, 2009 at 10:55 am
Your honesty is both refreshing and terrifying. I could have written so much of this about my life, about the way that I feel. I am glad you are brave enough to give those feelings a voice.
More people should read Twilight and Harry Potter. Sometimes you need an amazing world to escape to when yours makes you want to stay in bed for a week.
April 11th, 2009 at 11:08 am
That is quite possibly the greatest but of graffiti in the whole world. And dude, you is just fine. It takes a village, yo.
April 11th, 2009 at 11:37 am
Wow. You really are you…and you know what? Leaving the worrying behind (if you’re not doing it “good enough”) I’d say that you are really good at being you…these parts that you use to cope with the insanity of what was or is…are still parts of you. They deserved to be hugged and then let know that you’ve got it now, thanks for helping when that was all you knew to do…now you’re developing a different set of skills, and the true you will shine through. As it probably always has (sometimes we don’t see ourselves realistically)
April 11th, 2009 at 12:42 pm
thank you for sharing this. we’re all imperfect and totally fucked up and yet somehow wonderful, too. and you clearly have wonderful in you… it makes me sad to think you can’t see it, or at least see it clearly.
April 11th, 2009 at 2:59 pm
that is the most nobullshit piece of revelation i think have ever seen or read. besides that i don’t write any opine because i’m so blown away by it. if it’s you, then it’s you and i’m glad to know you, no bs, very glad.
April 11th, 2009 at 4:33 pm
Well, nice to re-meet you. And I still think you are a miracle and a beautiful person. So there. (And if you knew how many of the items on your list had me nodding in sympathy and recognition, maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone.)
April 11th, 2009 at 4:52 pm
I see a book. A series of essays, including this one. The book is entitled “The Zen of Graffitti.” The author is you.
April 11th, 2009 at 8:01 pm
I like you.
I identify with a lot of the things you say. You are definitely not alone. Although I DO fart butterflies, so there you go.
April 11th, 2009 at 8:10 pm
Flutter,
I know most of us have parts, huge parts of us, that we hide. It really does hold us back from “being me.” You have a lot of courage to post this, I would be afraid. Afraid that people would not like me or think I’m crazy. Thus, defeating the whole purpose of “being me.”
Thank you for sharing this. For the record, I think you are amazing.
April 11th, 2009 at 9:41 pm
I love that you don’t apologize for being you. Takes more balls than I’ve got.
April 11th, 2009 at 10:24 pm
All these people have said it so well- that you are you and you are worth knowing. Having kids has helped me love myself more, integrate my selves better, and fight my demons more thoroughly, even the one who raised me. It is possible.
April 12th, 2009 at 5:06 am
Anyone who tells you they love themselves all the time is a great big farkin liar. However, what I think separates you from a lot of people is your ability to reflect. This is what I think will save you from your total self-hatred. Damn, half the world, hates themselves…especially women. Why do you think you have all these women with their carefully constructed blog images?
Listen, I don’t know you. But, what I see I admire. I think you do not give yourself enough credit. I think you are so much more. And, I think because you are willing to keep going, even when it is hard, to tough it out, not to shut down, well that makes me believe that deep down in there you know you are worth it. You ARE worth it.
This was beautifully written, btw. You are talented!
April 12th, 2009 at 5:24 am
and you are lovely.
and fortunately not named bradyn maverick
April 12th, 2009 at 10:23 am
There are parts of me that I’d like to flush down the toilet– Parts that I hate.
I think you are lovely.
April 12th, 2009 at 11:31 am
The serendipity of the graffiti startles me. Your response contains a depth of honesty I would struggle to release. Maybe I will get there someday. Be proud you already have.
April 12th, 2009 at 3:14 pm
It took me many many many years to realize that we are ALL fucked up.
It’s very freeing, actually.
and YOU, my love, are totally completely one of us. xoxoxox
Except you SAY it better. p.s.
April 12th, 2009 at 7:28 pm
And I heart you all the more!
I want so badly to be able to lay it all out on the table as you do. I feel always a need to paint pretty pictures even when I want to just give everyone the finger. I will remember this though at least for my blog posts and then maybe it will bleed out into the rest of my psyche, everytime I feel like I need to be MsCupCake, I will say to myself,”Be You.”
I think you’re beautiful.
April 12th, 2009 at 8:03 pm
I am going to grafitti that the next time I’m in a restroom stall. The truth is, it takes a lot of courage (or particular brain development) to just be ourselves.
April 12th, 2009 at 8:20 pm
I have come to love myself after much trial and tribulation…
Even at that, I still have my moments, but today is what I am living for, I have found that thinking about the past, or worrying about the future just distracts from what I need to do today.
Peace!
April 12th, 2009 at 9:43 pm
I loved all this, Christine. And I think it is meant to be that you saw this writing on the wall. You are brave to write like this. Even if you don’t recognize it within yourself.
Sending you hugs today.
April 13th, 2009 at 2:34 am
I love you. But, you already knew that, right?
April 13th, 2009 at 7:33 am
Be you.
Most days if feels like there is no one way to express the truth of who I am. What I look like, what I am, my talents, my infinite shortcomings, my humor, my thick cynicism, my irrational and abiding hope, my doubts, my insecurities, my phobic fears, and my giant responsibilities?
The files are too big and complicated and at any given time the bandwidth too small for hi fidelity transmission. To most people I think I am a nicely rendered, pleasant pencil sketch. Except sometimes, very rarely, someone ‘gets’ me in technicolor. That is vulnerability, right there and it makes me want to run fast. It takes away the appetite so I can’t eat. It fucks with my pulse. It makes my stomach feel strange. What are you supposed to do with that? Be you, I guess.
In the end, the only thing that seems to infallibly feel right is the giving and receiving of kindness and even that gets complicated. I don’t know the answer. Oh, but Singing helps – you should sing more
May you find faith (in yourself) patience and peace.
April 13th, 2009 at 9:15 am
It can be hard to be truly ourselves. It can.
For years I carried around a picture of myself as a child, and when I was feeling truly self-loathing, it helped to look at that picture and to realize that I wouldn’t have hated that child, at all, so why would I hate myself now?
April 13th, 2009 at 9:54 am
I need to stop letting people tell me who I should be, that’s a big problem for me. I have a group of friends who don’t let me just be who I am. I want to say to them “if you don’t like it then just go away!”
April 13th, 2009 at 11:33 am
I think I’m feeling combative or something today or just completely not Up! with American pop psychology because that graffiti seriously bugs. (not you, flutter; this is as fine a piece of writing as ever. to be clear.) It’s the messages like these that we blithely give our children (and each other, I suppose) that have us all fucked up. We tell them to be themselves (huh? what does an 8 year old know about that?) We tell them to do what’s right, even if they’re the only ones doing it (because somehow we’ve forgotten how shitty loneliness feels). We tell them that if they just dream hard enough or want it badly enough, they can be whatever they want (enormous big fat incredibly damaging lie). And then we subtly and not so subtly communicate that the only okay life outcome is some monumental greatness that results in celebrity and popularity and wealth and farting butterflies.
No wonder we arrive at adulthood confused and unhappy.
I could go on and on about this, but I will spare you (you are so welcome
).
Contentment, man, that’s what we should be talking to our kids about. Contentment, a few good people to love and one kick ass pair of shoes.
See? you’re two-thirds there, baby.
April 13th, 2009 at 2:00 pm
you are beautiful
April 13th, 2009 at 7:43 pm
This you? I love her. ox
April 13th, 2009 at 9:09 pm
This honesty…this vulnerability…this you…is beautiful. I hope that you get to flourish instead of survive…soon…I hope it’s soon.
April 14th, 2009 at 4:56 am
I just can’t even find the words. But then…you know.
Your honesty literally causes me to be speechless. I wish you knew how much I really admired your ability to articulate this…this, “you.” It is, simply beautiful, just like you.
April 14th, 2009 at 8:53 am
Hey you – do you do extra horseradish in your bloody mary?
You are the awesome. You know that.
April 14th, 2009 at 10:58 am
Very, very nice to meet you.
April 14th, 2009 at 11:58 am
When are you gonna see that it’s these very things that make you so irresistable?
April 14th, 2009 at 12:20 pm
i love you
suebob’s song made me cry
i am also still amazed at how deep my distrust and self hatred can go
i once read that we enter into conflict so that we can stay in relationship
i sometimes allow myself to stand under a tree and feel its beauty even while i hate myself
yesterday i saw beautiful orange and zingy yellow butterflies everywhere and every single one of them reminded me of you
i tried to take a photograph of them but they fluttered past way too fast
did i mention how much i love knowing you?
April 14th, 2009 at 12:27 pm
and sometimes i hate myself so much that i feel like there is nothing else.
April 14th, 2009 at 5:44 pm
pleased to meet you. we have a lot in common. the not farting butterflies for one.
April 14th, 2009 at 6:53 pm
I don’t fart butterflies either, but my farts do smell like begonias. We could be friends.
April 15th, 2009 at 5:19 am
Aren’t you tired of the drama yet? The only person holding onto all this bullshit is yourself. Let go.
awwww sweet and lovely troll. While attempting to be mean in your anonymous way, you proved the point. Yes, it is bullshit. So is hiding behind your keyboard. Which isn’t really hiding at all. Since I have your ip address.
love, flutter
April 15th, 2009 at 7:51 am
We have some graffiti in town here that says “I need love.” My son pointed it out to me and now I always look for it when I drive by that spot. ‘Cause don’t we all?
April 15th, 2009 at 8:06 am
My first thought, after seeing the photo, was that you were going to go through the ways you don’t know yourself or how to “be you.”
However.
Oh, yes, you do. That’s the rub, inn’t? You’re too smart about your own self. I remember when my best girlfriend was in therapy and ended up admitting about her therapist, without arrogance, “The problem is I’m smarter than she is, so I spend the time fooling her because she doesn’t call me on stuff.” She switched to a cannier (um, more canny?) therapist, and then things went somewhere. The point is that my friend, like you, is very smart about herself, so it takes some special angle to get past that self-awareness and turn it into behavior changing.
Also? “I wouldn’t for my father. I know that makes me horrid.”
No it doesn’t. I like you better for this. Otherwise you’d be a martyr to your father. He doesn’t deserve it.
April 15th, 2009 at 8:42 am
Count yourself lucky. The grafitti I pass by every day on my commute says “Cops suck my dick.” SO much less charming.
April 15th, 2009 at 9:38 am
It’s a pleasure to know you.
Also, as far as graffiti, that rules. Especially if it brought forth this.
April 15th, 2009 at 6:36 pm
You are perfect.
April 16th, 2009 at 5:23 am
Its being you, yourself… that’s when you can find freedom… that’s true for me.
Yet there are little imperfections we see in ourselves, that make us hope we are not who we really are AT TIMES….
pardon me for my ranting… reading this just stirs up too much emotions in me…
still, no matter what, BE YOU girl. Be yourself…. that’s when you shine in darkness.
April 16th, 2009 at 6:22 am
You are a gift, whether you believe that or not.
April 16th, 2009 at 6:29 am
This is probably one of the most honest posts I have ever read on the Internet.
In a day and age that could easily be classified as shallow and judgmental, this is refreshing and beautiful and raw.
Much like yourself.
April 16th, 2009 at 1:27 pm
Isn’t it amazing what 2 little words can do.
I heart you. You should heart yourself too, because you. are. amazing.
April 16th, 2009 at 3:14 pm
I adore you, just the way you are. You are everything you have always been meant to be and more because you dare to challenge your beliefs, your core, to shake free all the bullshit that life has dealt you.
You are amazing. No question.
April 16th, 2009 at 7:10 pm
Wow. I think I have to stop starting my comments with that word, but it fits so well. As humans we struggle with self definition every second of every day. Buddhists do not believe in self, because self is a defined set thing, and we are not, we change constantly ergo no self. Your experiences, brutal or beautiful as they maybe, define you. You wouldn’t be the writer you are today if it wasn’t for thosse defining moments. Keep it real and honest. Peace.
April 16th, 2009 at 10:40 pm
This made me cry because, well, it’s so familiar and close to home, and because I can’t write as well as you and I so want to write. Maybe when you write stuff like this that some of the rest of us wish we had the words for, you could offer to let us sign our names at the bottom — or is that just too much to ask!
Maybe you could teach me to write like this so that I can capture the essence of who I am as poignantly as you do.
You are BEAUTIFUL and LOVELY and awesome.
April 17th, 2009 at 12:05 am
okay, so maybe we should talk.
i am open to that.
April 17th, 2009 at 6:13 am
I love you, kiddo, just the way you are . . .
April 17th, 2009 at 7:31 am
You are being featured on Five Star Friday!
http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2009/04/five-star-friday-edition-50.html
April 17th, 2009 at 2:14 pm
and I will tell you how wonderful I think you are, but you wont belive it. But i will still tell you – you really are courageous and wonderful.
April 17th, 2009 at 2:14 pm
and I will tell you how wonderful I think you are, but you wont belive it. But i will still tell you – you really are courageous and wonderful.
April 17th, 2009 at 4:16 pm
I think that it’s easier to look from the outside, and see everyone else as happy and content – when all of us really are just a stones thow from misery or bliss. We choose to live in the middle, the average, because it’s safer – and we miss so much!
Fantastic post, and thank you for sharing this part of yourself with us!
April 17th, 2009 at 7:35 pm
I nominate you for an attitude of gratitude award. Details on on this post. http://workingmomwrites.com/2009/04/attitude-of-gratitude-award/
April 17th, 2009 at 9:32 pm
Simply said, you know that BE YOU has got to be the most challenging task . . . right up there with finding the meaning of life. Hmmm . . . maybe they are one and the same?
I just need to say that I’m glad you don’t fart butterflies. That would just be messy. And weird. Especially if you puked rainbows, too.
And, when we meet, we are so going to a Karaoke bar.
Oh, and you can push all you want. I won’t budge.
Seriously. Try me.
April 18th, 2009 at 6:15 pm
I am impressed at how well you know yourself. I don’t think I know that many things about myself.
I think you’ve thrown open the door to your cage, now can you fly away free?
April 18th, 2009 at 8:45 pm
This line just kicked my ass: “I survived a tragedy but that doesn’t make me brave. It doesn’t make me better. It just makes me alive.”
I’m sure you’ve been asked this, but have you thought about writing a book? You have a gift for putting words together and for articulating your experience in a way that is raw and honest and real without being maudlin. I imagine it would be an incredible, connecting experience for anyone who has gone through anything remotely similar to what you have.
Peace.
April 19th, 2009 at 5:39 pm
Ah Flutter, I’ve missed you. I forgot to add you to my new reader and it struck me today that I hadn’t been here. I’m glad I came here to see this. To see you. Knowing myself and claiming myself apologetically is something I am long for. Something I feel I am finally taking steps towards. Not that I won’t long and strive to better but that I won’t strive, or pretend, to be someone else. You are flawed and eccentric and singularly you. And you, my friend, are GORGEOUS because of it.
April 19th, 2009 at 7:32 pm
It’s all there, though love. Right beneath that beautiful you that walks about now. You are radiant and I adore you, both of you.
April 21st, 2009 at 9:15 am
marvelous and aa-mazing.
amazing.
thank you.
I read these things by Meredith and you
and know why I am not a writer.
you write like angels who know how people
feel inside.
April 30th, 2009 at 12:29 pm
“I would rather you be happy with me than to be happy with myself.”
“All of these nutshell pieces reside behind a smile and a quick and self deprecating humor. You would never know that I am saying all of the things that I am afraid you’ll say. Before you can say them.”
Do you live inside my head? You put words to things I never could. Thank you.
April 30th, 2009 at 6:26 pm
[...] Be You – By Flutter [...]
May 6th, 2009 at 12:48 pm
WOW. Just WOW.
It was like line after line was a punch because it hit home so much. Especially the fear of not having kids. I wish I could say more but I’m speechless. I think you are awesome for posting this.