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Thursday, August 4, 2011

The Puzzle Piece- Finding a Place

In life, our experiences shape us. When something is off, like needing years of physical, occupational and speech therapies, as opposed to doing what most people do naturally, it can be hard to feel like you fit...someone will ask you about things, and try as you might, you can come off sounding awkward and accidentally charming people (to where they ooze with the awwws, rather than the intended goal.)

For example, last week, I was actually offered a coloring book with a meal. I had no idea there were 5'5" children under 12. (Well, I did, but that's not the norm, yet, is it?) Granted, with the time some meals take, distraction is the key, but how embarrassing, and it wasn't like I could tuck into the dinosaur shaped chicken tenders that looked tempting. (Make the most of it.)
I'm trying to figure out some things--- to understand that often, men may make my age out to be 19 at the most, (16 is the median.), that people may talk down to me, which I hate, or, if they hear me struggle or stutter from stress, may try to talk for me, while I become more frustrated. I understand that someone of similar build and coloring may be mistaken as a parent rather than a friend. People have often asked my own mother if I was adopted (No, I take after Dad for the most part.) or if she is my grandmother, which I suppose may happen simply because she had me at 35.

I have needs and urges, much like anyone else may have. I don't want to lead on anyone if there is no interest, but I would like more of a reaction than "Aww" if I do try a flirt. I don't want to be anything less than a lady- but do want to know if the eyes light up with joy or um... well.
I tend to be of a Junie Cleaver bent... I prefer the simpler things, think a lady should be a lady... but also feel free to show she is in touch with the side of human nature some erroneously take to be "dirty". Actually, in anger, I was once told I wanted pearls, white picket fences and a Beave and Wally. This merely got me irritated enough to say "In this world, a little bit of class is a good thing! Not everything needs to be offered to every Tom, Dick and Harry!"
I want to know, and maybe share, the side of me whose eyes don't get big when someone says something dirty (often because they know I'll turn my face away after my eyes bug out so they hopefully don't see me suddenly feeling warm.) Not the bookworm side. I don't want to be overwhelmed and feel like I need to hide to calm myself. I want to face someone and have them see me as a woman, as--dare I say---sexy?

Courtesy of Glitter On Wheels and their craft for the week Glitter on Wheels
I actually was saddened when I realized that I could still do a comparison with a painting my parents got as a child--- when things got to be too much, I'd hide in a corner. I think a few of my parents' friends wondered if I was being punished until they saw what was happening. Too much negativity, (in some cases, someone constantly being ill, or squabbles, or complaints about God only knows what) noise, abrupt, almost violent actions, people fighting publicly, or just needing to center, and I still feel a need to find the place where no one can get to me. I laughed it off as "My parents did joke that that was me"... but I want to be fully a woman. To be cared for, but to feel like I can be wild as well as a goofball.

Thing is, even if naive about some things, I do know---there is darkness in the world, there are horrors. But there's goodness too. And I hope I do show that. But I want to be more than a "sweet" or "cute" girl. I also want to know I'm sexy.
(Confused? Welcome to my version of the Rubic's Cube.)

As for this: purely incidental. Painting on right: "The Special Pleader" by Charles Burton-Barber. I actually possess this oil print.

So, I suppose, the goal is: Be natural. Be myself. Let the naysayers nay to their heart's content, that's their right. Try to know all sides of me. And to deny the ability to pressure me. I am not like anyone or everyone else. That's good. But I have many facets, we all do. And I must know myself. And for now, say my thank yous, my I love yous and my goodnights and goodbyes to the appropriate persons. And above all, forgive myself for the past, we all screw up. I have a place, somewhere. 


  1. Nice to know I'm not the only one who is taken for younger than they really are. Being 5'4" and looking like a high school freshman when clean shaven really doesn't help matters. If it wasn't for me keeping a three day scruff most of the time, people'd come up to me on my college campus asking if I needed help finding X-high-school-that's-visiting. Or having the cops called on me at least once a month for having a fake ID at a bar when it's my actual driver's license.

    In all seriousness, this kinda hit home to me. So much, in fact, I can't provide the type of comment I want to, simply because I don't know where to start. So, I'll leave with saying I love how you write and that I'll be checking in here a whole lot more now.

  2. It's strange... I know a lot of people. We all ask for the coloring book as a gag now. I suppose 10 years from now, I'll consider myself lucky!