Archive for September, 2004

In my late teens and early 20s (before I was 23), I was a bright light. I was social and open and warm to others. I was thin and young and happy and I wanted to share that with the world.

At the age of 21, events began to happen that would forever change the way I portrayed myself to the world. It took a few years for the full effect to come about, but when it did, I was no longer that young, thin, happy woman.

I began to hide in my own secret world. I didn’t go out much. I hid myself in my home. I ate because I’m an emotional eater and it felt good to have something to console me. I cried for years on end. I felt like the sun had gone out and every day was dark and scary and filled with fear.

This went on for many years. I lost wonderful friendships and missed out on experiences because I was living in fear of fear.

In the last two years, I’ve been working very hard to improve myself. I sought outside help to help me overcome my fear of people (something that I’m continually working on). I’ve worked to overcome the thought that every time someone said something to me, I was being ridiculed or rejected or put down.

I’ve worked on losing weight and getting back to a normal sense of who I am.

In some ways, I still hide from the world. I still don’t go out and enjoy all that the world has to offer.

However, as someone recently told me, it’s time for me to bloom. If I don’t sieze life right now, I may miss out on some things it has to offer. I may not be able to live the life I want. I may not see the joy in every day.

If I wait until I’m the perfect size or until I no longer fear anything (is that possible?), I may not actually live life. I’ll be waiting for that perfect moment which may never come.

Baby steps. It requires baby steps. I tentatively take a step out, expand myself slowly. I push one boundary, feeling the fear close in around me, but knowing that this is necessary.

It is time to bloom. I need to sieze the world, make it mine, make it all that it can be.

Yesterday, I was at my brother’s house, talking to my sister-in-law. We were talking about my graduation in May and how I want to have a huge party to celebrate this event. I’ve been working on this, off and on, for 20 years. It was put on a back burner while I supported others or while I was in a damaged place that would not allow me to attend school.

My sister-in-law started talking to me about my schooling. Tears welled in her eyes. She choked them back. She told me that she’s so proud of me…of how far I’ve come…of how much I’ve taken back and allowed myself to reach a goal I’ve had forever. She has known me for 12 years. She said that I’ve changed so much in that time. She said that I’m once again taking those tentative steps into the world, growing anew, blooming into the fullness that I can be.

School is one of the ways I’ve chosen to bloom. It’s an important part of my life. It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel worthwhile. It makes me feel like I’ve succeeded at one thing.

I now hide behind this “fat girl” image I have of myself. I may have lost a lot of weight but the “fat girl” is still in there, hiding me. If I allow myself to let go of that, I won’t have anything to hide behind anymore. I’ll be open, bared to the world.

Vulnerable.

Baby steps. Push.

I am not the perfect size for me. I’m still working on it. I’ve been hiding myself behind baggy, bulky clothing because I subconsciously thought that was protecting me. It wasn’t. It isn’t. It is hurting me.

Time to bloom. Push.

I did something I’ve never done before. I bought beautiful lingerie. I started next to my skin. I bought things to make me feel beautiful underneath it all.

Slowly. Like a flower opens to the sun, I bloom from the inside out. My petals are expanding. I am opening to the world.

I start with something I’m comfortable with (education), move on to a more difficult area (weight), and continue on with parts of me that leave me quaking in fear (outward appearances).

Baby steps.

It’s time to open myself fully, to experience the full warmth of life in a way I couldn’t have when I was younger. It won’t be the same thing. It won’t mean the same thing.

It is more.

It’s time to bloom.

—

Not Like This Before
Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi

I wasn’t like this before. I wasn’t out of my mind and senses.
Once I used to be wise like you, not crazy, insane and broken down like I am now.

I wasn’t the admirer of life which has no trace, no being.
I used to ask : “Who is this?
What is that?,”
and search all the time.

Since you have wisdom,
sit and think
that probably I was like this before.
I haven’t changed much.

I used to try
to make myself better than everybody.
I hadn’t been hunted
with the ever-growing Love before.

I tried to rise above the sky
with my ambition
yet I didn’t know.
I was just wandering in the desert.
At the end,
I have raised a treasure from the ground.

I love urban myths.  I love the stories we tell one another to spread urbans myths.  I especially love the stories that parents tell their children to warn them about some evil in the world.

In my linguistics class, today, we were sitting around waiting for class to start.  Several of us get along quite well and have a good time talking to one another.  Our conversations move rather quickly from topic to topic.  Towards the end of our conversation, someone started telling us a story that her dad used to tell her when she was a kid:

We’d go swimming at Lake Powell when I was a kid.  We’d wander out into the lake by ourselves.  Finally, my dad was so tired of yelling at us to get out of the lake that he told us about the sea monsters that live in the lake.  He told us that there are whale-sized, man-eating fish at the bottom of Lake Powell.

She was dead serious.  She believed her Dad.  She still believes him and doesn’t like swimming in the lake too much.

While I didn’t believe the story, I figured I should do some research on it.  The largest fish ever caught at Lake Powell was 48 pounds (which is a big fish…but not whale size).  It was a Bass (bottom-feeder).

Another student said this:

My parents used to tell me that biting my fingernails would turn them green like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz and that they would then fall off.

And another:

I was told that if someone poked you in the belly button, your stomach would open up and all of your blood would pour out.  To this day, I don’t like anyone touching my belly button.

I think this is an interesting foray into the ways we affect one another.  Be careful what you say.  It may impact someone for the rest of his or her life.

I cannot lie.  I’ve betrayed you.  I’ve hidden this other side of me from you.

I’ve been writing in another blog in another place.

It tends to be my darker feelings.  It tends to be things I’m not sure I’m ready to share in public.  It tends to be things that I’m shy about sharing, about feelings I’m not sure will be accepted, about things that really matter to me.

I’m not sure if this is the place for them.  So, I’ve been writing them elsewhere.

I feel like I’ve betrayed a lover.  I’m hiding an entire side of my life from people that I really like.