Time to dive into the little things
Fleeting moments. My life is in moments. One minute your up, the next, well you know. Why do we need such validation? Validation for how we love, validation for being a good mother, wife, sister, daughter, cook, lover, human being. Validation for how we look, because we all know that matters. Feeling beautiful…but let’s be honest, do we ever really believe it when they tell us? If you catch us in the right moment then the answer is a great big YES!!!
Song for this chapter:
Bent
Matchbox Twenty
Broken, bent, twisted…etc…yup. This pretty much sums up everything. As I am writing this, there is a smile on my face. Nothing is funny about the statement, it’s just the fact that I can recognize all my insecurities. When I sing this song, I am extra passionate at certain points in the song. It makes me laugh and cry at the same time. Not in front of anyone, usually when I’m alone. Like humpty dumpty on the wall. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put humpty together again. Ha! My mind is crazy!! Literally!!
Life is about the little things. Little things add up. I remember when I was younger, my grandmother use to scrub me so hard, with this thing. It was scratchy. That’s all I can remember about it.I was about six or seven at the time. She used to say she was going to scrub the black off of me. My sister was very white, still is. Lol….I’m still dark. Can’t change that. Guess I could, but it is way too expensive. With my grandmother wanting to “scrub the black” off me, I always felt that I was just the wrong color. Especially when I was around my sister. My beautiful sister…I always wanted to be her. The beautiful one. One of the little things that stuck in my mind, or my soul. Didn’t even realize it was there until it paid me a visit on several different occasions when I was older. But, we will talk about that later. It’s funny what your mind keeps…That’s why it is so important to think before you speak. Especially to children. You never know how what you say to them can affect or as I would like to say infect them in the future. This is one of those little things that stuck. Throughout my young life, I always felt different. Things you just don’t share with anyone because they wouldn’t understand. I love the way people can tell you that you never felt a certain way, when you are the one that lived it. Your perspective, your reality. Don’t let anyone steal that from you. If it hurt you, it hurt you. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt them the way it hurt you, but you are not them and they are not you! I don’t care for people who have pity parties, nor is this…whatever this is designed to give you permission to give up, nor is it designed to blame other people. Although sometimes it might seem that way. This is not about finding excuses, it’s about finding out what got us here and overcoming it all. Because the thing is, everyone has experienced bad times. Bad things happen. People hurt other people, some people just can handle it better than others. That is what I am trying to figure out. Why we can’t just let things go like other people can. Why we hold onto the pain. I just want answers. On my quest for answers the only thing I can come up with at this point is that other people have had more good happen in their life. The good made the bad not as bad as it could have been. Somewhere along the line they could regain the trust that they lost. Some point in their lives, someone came along and consistently showed them how valuable they were. I guess it just didn’t happen for us. So where do we go from here? I’m not sure exactly. The search continues. Sorry, I have no song for this part. Maybe you do? My hair always seemed to find its way home. That’s what my family would say when my hair seemed more ethnic that it should. Funny what your heart keeps. My aunt was and is a very glamorous woman. I recall when she came over our apartment when we lived in San Antonio and voiced her longing for my sister to be a model. My sister has always been model material by the way. Gorgeous! Still today. Well of course, I wanted to be a model too! But years after my grandmother couldn’t scrub the black off me, well I was told I was too dark. Too dark to be a model…hmm. Apparently so was my sister because she still used bleach to make my sister’s arm hair blonde. Are we ever good enough just the way we are? I have always thought my sister was perfect in every way. But even she wasn’t good enough. I wonder if that hurt her. I can’t speak for her, but I’m sure she has things that changed her somehow. The reason the last moment in my life seems out of order, is because there is no order. Just things that pop up from time to time. I was just trying to show you that if the ridicule continues in your life, you can never stop feeling inadequate. If it never reoccurs again, well you have a chance to feel good about yourself again. Maybe we can find someone and give them a compliment today. We of all people should know how effective it can be to hear good things. Life is not perfect, but the balance seems to be off somewhere. Here I am asking you who are broken to try to mend other people. How can you do this you ask? When you’re not even whole yourself? Because, I’ve found that helping others really does feel good. Anything that feels good to the soul can’t be bad. Much love, and stay safe.
Still working on that 