It seems there are so many topics to be addressed these days, mostly for women.
I remember when I was growing up, I craved to have my own style. I wasn’t allowed to. I’d dress for school, and my mom would say, “you have to be careful of the messages you send.” I scoffed at this, and when I was out of the house, the red lipstick would be applied, and my neckline would be lowered, and I went about my day. I got attention. Creepy guys at the mall, kids at school, I’d get looks, and since I was an insecure kid, I took horrible comments as a compliment. Oh they think I’m pretty! This is good! “Hey baby, nice ass,” was a good thing to someone like me.
Even though I was told, “you need to be careful of the messages you send,” I was never taught why, and I was never taught to love myself without male attention. I guess that’s what that statement meant. Maybe. I don’t know. I just saw it as an excuse for me not to be who I was. I liked being pretty, I liked showing that. But it came with consequences. As a teen and a young adult, the negative attention was welcomed. I craved it. I didn’t care where it came from. It was attention.
Now that I’m older, I still dress how I want. A little cleavage is fine, red lipstick, a must. But I don’t crave that attention anymore. I think it’s important to be comfortable with myself, but I’m not so “in your face sexy” now. A little mystery is good. With all of this hype about women being able to go topless, why would we want to? What’s ours is ours. That’s one of the wonderful things about being a woman. Mystery. That’s a power we have that no one else has. My body is mine. I’m not going to show myself to the world just because it’s now unacceptable and I’m rebelling. I want my partner to see all of me. Not everyone else. But this doesn’t at all stifle my sex appeal.
This is what I feel. Anyone can do what they want. I changed how I present myself because of age and my own personal evolution, and I’m happy with that. I guess I can see through some people and their self-exposure, and see it as a cry for attention. For others it’s not. It’s all different. But just remember this: I feel that being a woman is a gift. We need to respect ourselves and teach others that we deserve respect too. “Hey baby, nice ass,” is NOT acceptable. Be sexy, be confident. But keep that mystery. Show a little, but not too much. Be a woman and enjoy the privilege. There’s nothing else quite like it
I came home to find this little guy, all alone. Two of his litter mates were killed. I saw him there, alone and confused, and I had to do something. He’s hairless. His eyes are still closed. He was punctured in his belly, and his intestines were falling out of him. I thought he was a goner.
I called a wildlife rehabilitator and left a message. No response. And no surprise really. It sucks that I expected no response, but I digress. So, I did what I felt was right, and I took him in, and decided to keep him comfortable until he passed. This was around 6:30 pm.
So here I am, at 2:00 am, and he’s still here. I’m not sure why. I set him in his box, with fluffy bedding, hoping I created the perfect environment for him to pass away comfortably and peacefully. But no. He hung on. I wrapped him in a washcloth, and held him close to me. The little guy started to walk! He was stumbling over his insides (literally), and nuzzled under my chin. My heart melted.
Since then, I’ve named him Pooh and I’ve been holding him close. We’ve watched The Golden Girls and Frasier. We’ve bonded a bit, and as I sit here with this newborn bunny lying on my chest, I feel honored. He trusts me. I’m attached to him. Dammit.
I’m going to bed soon. This means I’ll have to put Pooh in his box by himself. I’m having a hard time with that 🙁
He’s taught me a lot today. To keep going. To never give up. And the most important, to trust. There’s no reason for him to trust me, but he does. However, I have proven myself to be trustworthy. Trust needs to be proven, I think.
I’ve bonded with him, and I love him. When I tuck him into his box tonight, I pray he makes it to tomorrow. I’m not sure what I’ll do if he’s gone when I wake up. I’ll cry, most likely. All day.
In just a few hours, Pooh has taught me a lot. To hang in there, to not give up, and to trust those who prove themselves trustworthy to me, as well as trust the natural order of things.
As traumatic as it was to find him, I’m happy I did. It feels good to earn his trust and love. I understand what that means.
I’ll do my best to keep Pooh alive. But no matter what happens, I’ll always feel grateful to have known him.
We are off to bed now. If he makes it through the night, I’ll be getting him to the vet tomorrow.
Update to follow <3
Yoga is all over the place these days. I think that’s wonderful, but I don’t think it’s around much for the reason it was intended.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not educated on the history of yoga, except that it is meant to be a spiritual practice. It’s meant to promote a sense of calm in our lives and bring us to another level of being. That is why I explored it years ago. I read up on it a little, and found a couple of DVDs. I fell in love with Steve Ross, who had a class on the Oxygen Network. It was fun and light-hearted, and he taught yoga in a relatable and spiritual way. Then the show was cancelled. What was I to do?
I tried attending a class or two, and I clearly didn’t belong. Maybe the classes weren’t right for me, I don’t know. I had flashbacks of my aspiring actress days in NYC. I’d go to an acting class to learn, and there was always someone there with their headshot and resume. Hello? It’s a class. You’re not applying for a job. This turned me off to acting entirely. And I have to say, the attitudes in the yoga classes has done the same thing.
It doesn’t seem to be spiritual to me now. Everyone is showing off their photos of yoga poses. Yoga on a swing. Boat pose on a paddle board. Profile pic of Tree pose. Ok. You can pose. Good for you.
I drive through a yoga studio’s parking lot to get to and from work. One day I was driving through, and there was this guy in front of my car. Yoga mat and cell phone in hand, and he refused to move. Complete arrogance. Is this what yoga is about? I didn’t think so. But I’m sure is Pigeon pose is flawless.
No one in these classes I’ve attended are approachable. There’s an arrogance about them, and I thought that was against the philosophy, really. It’s all about the yoga gear, the yoga pants, and the ability to look sexy in those pants, doing a pose that shows how flexible you are. It’s not really about the true practice of yoga.
I’d like to get into yoga again. But I won’t practice just because it’s cool or the thing to do. I won’t attend a class that’s like bootcamp. I don’t need enlightenment drilled into me. You’ll never see a photo of me doing some ridiculous pose on a beach and I won’t do it for a “yoga body.” I want to do it for the reasons I was drawn to yoga in the first place. Inner peace.
And if I do practice again, it will be in the privacy of my own living room. Steve Ross on the DVR, and I’m sure I won’t look very sexy. But I’m working toward something much more than that. So who cares?
So, since I’ve been married three times, I’m not ashamed to say that I’m not so good at relationships. I’m always searching for something. Love, passion, understanding, you name it. Each relationship I’ve entered into, I was desperately and hopelessly looking for these things, and I never got them. Why? When someone loves you, they should just know what I need. Why do I have to ask? They should just know. Well, no. They don’t. And it wasn’t their fault. It was mine.
We all feel insecure at times and we need a little extra love. I know I do, but did I say this? No. I just expected my partner to know, and I got pissed off if he didn’t do what I needed him to do. What an ass. He’s supposed to be there for me! He loves me, so he should read my mind and do what I need him to do!
Well, after many years of playing it that way, I realized that it doesn’t work. No matter how much someone loves you, they will never know what you need unless you tell them. It sounds simple, but we’re not built like that.
Somehow I’ve finally realized this. I’m not sure how or why. Maybe because I realized doing the same thing over and over wasn’t working. I’m not sure. But in my current relationship, I’m honest. If I’m insecure, I say so. If I need a little validation, I say so. There’s no more game playing. No more hoping he’ll get me. It’s exhausting to play games, to hope he’ll get it.
I’ve learned that admitting vulnerability isn’t something to be ashamed of. It shows courage and strength. I mean, you can’t be “on” all the time. The image you’ve created for yourself. The “nothing can break me” image. That’s exhausting to even think about. Things break me all the time, and I can admit that. I’m human. And to have a thriving and healthy relationship, I need to be honest about it.
When problems arise with my partner, I look at myself first. If I need something, I’ll tell him. I’ll keep myself in check if I’m being irrational. Don’t get me wrong. If I’m honest, and express my needs and he doesn’t try to make things better, I’ll be pissed for sure. It doesn’t always work in my favor.
Games don’t work. If you’re having problems with your partner, tell them you love them. Tell them what hurts you. Tell them everything. Then it’s up to them. Don’t post passive aggressive things on Facebook hoping they’ll see. Don’t pretend you don’t care when you really do. Take responsibility for your own feelings and express them. Take the mask off and show your true self. You’re lovable without it. <3
I’m on Facebook of course, so I see a lot of people trying to explain their lives and personalities through posts and memes. I do this too, but some go to extremes. What I usually see most is people claiming how honest they are. “I’m gonna tell you the truth!” “I don’t sugar coat anything!” “Yes, I’m a bitch. Get used to it!”
I see these posts and such, and all I can say is, “why??!!” Why does anyone feel the need to be this way? Can’t one have an opinion, and voice it respectfully? Better yet, give advice only when asked? And even better than that, stop making everything about them?
Sometimes I think that when people say these things, they are trying to feel better about themselves. Like it’s a defense mechanism or something.
“Accept me for ME!” is in my face over and over so much, that I wonder if they are actually trying to accept themselves. I’ve been there, and I can admit now, that’s what I was trying to say.
I try to be respectful when I’m communicating with others. If I disagree with someone, it’s ok. I don’t automatically feel the need to get all up in there and correct everyone, and bring them to my side. In my experience, that approach never works. I don’t think anyone can hear an unsolicited, “I’m gonna say it like it is. I don’t sugar coat things,” and respond with, “Oh wow! You enlightened me. Thank you for your insight.”
Maybe some people are proud to be this way, I don’t know. But I know that I try to treat others with compassion, and I try to be respectful. I may not get that in return, but that’s how I handle things. For me, an in-my-face, unsolicited opinion will get you nowhere.
I hope the “I’m a bitch and proud of it” trend ends eventually. That is an attitude that will build a wall between those who adopt this philosophy and the world. I have yet to meet someone who responds well to the “bitch” tactic. I know I don’t. I go out of my way to avoid harsh and hardened people.
So, this is to the “I say it like it is” folks: If I come to you for advice, feel free to tell me like it is. If I don’t, please keep it to yourself. I don’t look for a debate. That’s not what I’m about. Please go and “say it like it is” to someone else.
Thank you 🙂
When it comes to taking compliments, I think there are three ways of taking them.
The first way is from an insecure place, and we refuse to accept it, and endlessly explain why we don’t deserve such things.
The second way is also from an insecure place, and we accept this compliment, but we don’t stop there. We take it and run with it. One compliment can inflate our ego so much, that we continue to blow sunshine up our own ass until no one can take it anymore.
The third way is from a place that is either self-assured, or insecure, or a mix of both. When a compliment is paid to us, we graciously accept it. No pity party, no grandiose announcement to the world. Just a very genuine “thank you.”
Number three is my favorite, however I’m still working on it. I still have a bit of the first example in me.
Compliments are a gift from others to us. They may come frequently, or they may come rarely. But accepting them graciously is a gift to both yourself, and the people that give them to you.
Regardless if you feel you are or are not worthy of such things, or you have no idea what to say, remember that someone noticed something in you. Enough for them to tell you. And we are very deserving, whether we feel it or not. So just enjoy this, and lighten up and say “thank you”