I trolled back through my own writing of the last seven or eight years... I write about being fine in yourself a lot.
I guess, because I am often not.
I have always been a bit of a chameleon -- admittedly in a slightly snarky package. That part of me, I don't think I could camouflage if I tried. But I have found myself trying to squeeze into boxes that would be pleasing. And then I'm mad at the world when I realize that I don't fit into them.
Writing about it... exhorting the idea that it's okay to just be you... I think that's probably been my way of therapying myself into believing it, too.
Even now, I find myself trying to shape myself differently as I write. There are places that I feel I should be further along... in growth, in healing, in maturity. I know that I'm not... and instead of being honest about those things, my inclination has been to just not talk about them or just skirt their edges or to pretend they aren't there. It's not even that I'm ashamed of those places. Growth is a part of life. Healing is a part of life, and I don't really feel like anyone should have to adhere to a timetable. It is what it is.
I just don't want to have to defend that timetable to anyone else. The growth and the healing is hard enough without having to construct shield and armor around it. If I don't speak of it, I don't have to defend it... which is, in itself, a kind of shield and armor.
I'm not sure I feel any more comfortable in myself for the writing... but I do find that it makes me more aware (sometimes) of how I treat others in their broken places. Or even in just the things we love that differ.
I ran into that when my Celtic Thunder furor was at its peak... I never liked it when people made fun of me for it. We don't all have to love the same things... but when people ridiculed the things I loved, it was hard to not feel that what they were really ridiculing was me. I'm more cognizant of that in myself now... am I treating someone's love for their things in the same way I'd want mine to be treated? And even, if they don't love what I love, am I treating their preferences with kindness?
Oh, I'll get there.
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