Tag Archives: flaws

24

Jul. ’13

Me

me

“What a laugh, though.  To think that one human being could ever really know another.  You could get used to each other, get so habituated that you could speak their words right along with them, but you never know why other people said what they said or did what they did, because they never even know themselves.  Nobody understands anybody.”
– Orson Scott Card

I am going through a very hard time right now.  The reason?  Doesn’t matter.  Just another hard time – you know how it is.  You have them too.  It would be great if life stayed up there on those peaks all the time, but we all know that the trail dips to the valleys every now and then.

And it sucks.

But this time, I’m starting to realize something.  Most problems we have (all of us – not just me), at their very core, exist because people just don’t understand one another.  And like the quote above illustrates, how can we?  We don’t even understand ourselves.

Well, I don’t know if you care or not, but I’m going to use this blog to try to understand myself.  I’m getting ready to describe…me.

And you know what?  Maybe by the end of it, you’ll understand me too.  And hey, who knows?  Maybe this might even help you understand you.  Or at least try.  That’s all we can do, right?

“Walk with me for awhile, my friend—you in my shoes, I in yours—and then let us talk.”  
– Richelle E. Goodrich

I am passionate.

I mean, seriously.  I don’t half-ass anything.  When I feel something, I freakin feel it.  As you can imagine, that can go both ways.  When I love you, I soooo love you.  I’m hopelessly devoted and cannot even imagine being with anyone else.  But when a negative emotion hits?  You’re going to get the same intensity as the positive.  If I’m mad, I’m furious.  If you hurt me, I’m crushed.

I am innocent.

I hate to admit that, but I am.  I’m naïve.  I truly don’t understand this new world that we’re in where relationships have become casual and ‘hooking up’ seems to be the norm.  I don’t desire to go out and drink until the wee hours of the morning.  I have no desire whatsoever to ‘date.’  I am the most happy when I’m in a loving, committed relationship.  Nothing else will do for me. My preferred past-time is hanging out with a bunch of kids and goofing off – not partying.  Does that make me a dud?  I guess.

I am loyal.

Once I am committed to something, I’m in.  You can trust me 150%.  There are no gray areas.

I am obsessive.

I admit it.  I find it so incredibly hard to get my mind off of whatever is bothering me.  I want to fix it.  And a lot of people’s way of ‘fixing’ something is to find something else to temporarily ease the pain.  Not me.  I want to talk it to death; beat it to death; squeeze it until every last drop of life is gone.  I have lost a lot of people I love this way because I tend to love people who are exactly the opposite.  People who need their time and space to deal with things.  I have always hated this about myself.

I am intensely intuitive.

I know when something is not right.  Maybe that stems from my extreme interest in other people.  People fascinate me, so I pay attention to them.  I watch what they do and figure out why they do it.  So, with that being the case, I can usually spot when something is not right. I  know the signs and signals.  The problem with this?  The problem is that while yes, something may be off, my overactive imagination turns what may be a little molehill into Mount Everest.  I picture the absolute worst scenario in my head and assume that is the case until I know otherwise.  Then, when I find out otherwise, it’s hard to put what I’ve found out in place of what I already assumed to be true.  That sucks.

I am honest.

To a fault.  I lay it ALL out there.  Whether you want it or not.  And the problem with that?  I expect others to be that way too.  And then I’m crushed when they’re not.  I wish I were a better liar.  I wish I could be mysterious.  I wish, I wish, I wish.  But it’s not going to happen.  It’s not who I am.  And since it’s not who I am, I am especially sensitive to it in other people.  I don’t understand it, and I am deeply wounded by it.  Once I’ve seen dishonesty, it’s really, really, hard for me to unsee it.

I am forgiving.

I fully understand that this may seem to counteract what I just said.  But it doesn’t.  You’ve heard of forgiving and forgetting?  Well, the forgiving part is easy for me.  I have forgiven so many things over the years.  I understand that people make mistakes.  I hope people understand that I make mistakes too.  Crap happens.  But forgetting?  *Sigh*  Sadly, forgetting is not my specialty.  Can one exist without the other?  I don’t know, you tell me.

And finally, one last thing.

I like myself.

It’s true.  Yes, I’ve just mentioned some things that aren’t so great about my personality.  But I’ve listed some things that I think are pretty honorable too.  I have finally – FINALLY – come to a place in my life where I realize that I’m just really not that bad.  I fully understand that some people cannot accept my blunt, intense nature.  But I just absolutely cannot change who I am.  Just like they can’t change who they are.  We just have to learn to live together, you know?  Flaws, differences, quirks.  We just have to accept ourselves for who we are, and accept others for who they are.  That’s the only choice we have.

Now that I’ve written this, I’m not sure what the point was really.  I guess I’m just hoping to be understood.  That’s all we’re ever hoping for, isn’t it?  Do you see yourself in anything I’ve described?  Are you the complete opposite?  Is someone you love like me?  Do you think understanding them might help?

It’s your turn.

Who are you?

There may be someone that could really benefit from you letting them know.  It could be a start to mending something that is broken.

I sure hope so.  Life is way too short for the alternative.

***

“Before we can forgive one another, we have to understand one another.”
– Emma Goldman

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31

May. ’13

Moments

argueblog2

Awwww.  How sweet.

Ok, I’ll get back to this picture in a minute.  First – let me tell you a little something about myself.

I’m a jerk.

Oh yeah.  It’s true.  When I’m upset about something, I become an inconsiderate, irrational know-it-all who cannot see anyone else’s point of view but my own.  Especially when I’m already tired or stressed to begin with.  Anyone else like that, or am I all alone here in Jerkville?

Now, my boyfriend definitely knows this about me.  He has been a prisoner in Jerkville a few too many times.  And sometimes he likes to put a positive spin on this aspect of my personality by referring to it as my being passionate.  Passionate.  *Giggle*  (He missed his calling as a politician.)

But, then there are other times.  The times when he’s fed up and has had enough of the scenery in Jerkville and is ready to go home – that’s when he’ll call it like it really is.  He says I get crazy.

Ok, I’ll admit it.  Both are true.  Sometimes I’m passionately crazy.  But it’s because I feel things.  You know?  I feel them to my core.  There’s no half-assing it with me.  (Pardon my French.)  When I feel it, I feel it.

Now, sometimes that’s a good thing.  Sometimes it’s a wonderful thing actually.  I know I love with all of my heart, and then some.  I’d go to the ends of the earth for you if you’ve managed to win my heart.  And honestly, I kinda like that about myself.

But when the tide turns?  Ohhhh boy.  When the tide turns, it’s not such a good thing anymore.  It can get ugly fast.  Yep – it’s a flaw.  My biggest flaw, perhaps.  I admit it.

I, Melissa Caudill, am a flawed human being.  

I know, I know….shocking, isn’t it?  I thought I was perfect too!  But nope.  Turns out, I’m not.  Who knew!?

So, with all of that said, I want to tell you about something that happened in my latest argument with my honey.  Now, he is the exact opposite from me.  Polar opposite.  His way to handle a problem?  Clam up; don’t talk; wait for it to pass.

Bless his heart.

Now, you read all that stuff I just said about me, right?   If you were a fly on the wall during one of our spats, I can assure you you’d be quite entertained.  Honestly, though – (and don’t tell him this) – I admire him for the way he is.  In the same way that he admires my being “passionate,” I admire his being level-headed.  Calm.  Well, that is, until I’m pissed.  And then?  Then I think he’s….well….crazy.  Unhealthy.  A ticking time bomb.  He needs to let that junk out of his system!

In other words, I guess we’re both flawed.  It just happens to be in exact opposite ways.

Well, last night – as it has a few times in the past – those flaws came into play during a stupid argument.  I wanted to talk; he didn’t.  So, I marched my crazy self over to his house to make him talk.  When I first got there, he was asleep.  (Asleep?  Asleep!?  You think that is an excuse not to text me back??) 😉  After an unwelcomed chuckle from his half-asleep ramblings (he saw me and said in a slurred voice, “What are you doing in the band room?”…oh my gosh, I can’t even type that without laughing again – what the heck was that boy dreaming about?…), we got down to business.  We (I) ranted and raved and discussed every little thing each of us have ever done wrong in our lives from the time we exited our mother’s wombs.  Or, at least it seemed like that. Then, eventually, we chilled out and finally actually discussed the issue like we should have all along.

We’re fine now.  We still have problems, and always will (we’re human), but this catastrophe was avoided at least.

Now, back to the picture I posted at the beginning.  (See? I’m telling you this story for a reason.  And you thought I was just rambling….)

At one point during the argument, he got up and went into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.  (I know, right!?  How dare him walk away when I’m ranting…)  He came back into the room, and I took a deep breath and resumed where I had left off without missing a beat.  And in the midst of my continued rant, you know what he did?

He handed me a drink of water.

Here I was, hoarse from all the fussing at the poor man, and he hands me a drink of water to help me continue.

Isn’t that amazing?  You can be irate at someone – think that they are the craziest, most insane, irrational person alive – and yet when you love them, you still make sure they’re comfortable.  Make sure they know you love them.

These are the moments, people.  Not the candlelit dinners, not the flowers, not the cute little pet names.

The times the people you love are being anything but loveable – and you love them anyway.  The parent tucking in the child that just screamed “I hate you!” at them just before they fell asleep; the pet that still runs up to you and welcomes you home when you’ve left it alone all day; the adult child of an Alzheimer’s patient still patiently lifting a spoon to the mouth that curses them in confusion; the boyfriend who hands a drink of water to the woman who has just hurt his feelings.

These are the moments.

Don’t forget to notice them.  OK?

***

“Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.”
– Peter Ustinov

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22

May. ’13

The Beholder

“Beauty is simply reality as seen with the eyes of love.”
– Evelyn Underhill

Last week, I wrote a blog called Self-Image (Click here to read).  In this blog, I mentioned that my friend, Iman Woods, who is a blogger with 8 Women Dream, had decided to use myself and my boyfriend Richard as “guinea pigs” for an upcoming article on women and their self-esteem.  Most of this was kept secret to me.  I honestly didn’t know what she was asking him or how he was responding.  (Have I mentioned that I’m in love with the quietest man on earth??  Dude can seriously keep a secret.)  All I knew was that I needed to pick out five pictures of myself – three that I particularly liked and two that I did not – and critique them.

My friend’s blog posted this morning.  Check it out here.

Wow.

My friend asked for my thoughts on this and to tell her what I think, and I’m not even sure what to say.  For once, this ol’ gal is somewhat speechless.  However, I’ll try.  I know nothing I say will truly convey how much this article affected me, though.

First of all, after reading this article, I’ve decided that I sure do seem kind of silly.  All of those little things that I worry about and obsess over?  The man whose attention and attraction I am hoping to gain has never even noticed them.  How crazy is that!?  I hope other women read this and take from it the same that I took from it.  We really need to stop this needless obsessing over little ‘flaws’ and ‘quirks.’  Sometimes we may be the only one who is seeing them.  As Richard says in the interview, “In my experience, most people (ALL dudes) pay more attention to the ‘big picture’ and not each individual detail.”

I think I needed to hear that.

Secondly, something that Iman said in her opening comments of her article really stood out to me.

“Changing our bodies isn’t as effective as changing our minds.” 
– Iman Woods

How much truth is there to that!?  If my smile was somehow magically straightened, would I think I’m suddenly beautiful?  If the gray disappeared from my hair or a six-pack appeared on my stomach – would that fix my self-image?  Nope.  It sure wouldn’t.  I have to see myself as beautiful just the way I am.  Just like Richard does.

Which brings me to this.  Most importantly, this article has shown me something that I really needed to see.

Richard loves me.

This man really, truly loves me.  And it has nothing to do with my crooked smile or the color of my hair.  He loves me from the inside out.  And isn’t that what it’s all about?  Isn’t that all we want?  For someone to look at us, and really see us…and then to fall in love with what they see?

I’m such a lucky girl.  I am loved…and I am beautiful.

And you know what I’m willing to bet?  So are YOU.

uscutepic

***

“Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.”
– Kahlil Gibran

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15

May. ’13

Self-Image

selfesteemblog

I remember a friend of mine once asking for help from her Facebook friends about possible upcoming blog topics.  One of her friends commented on her status and told her to “watch for signs” – that you’ll start seeing a common theme popping up in your life and when it does, then you know it’s time to write about it.

Well, it’s time for me to take that advice.

I’ve had it in my head for a while now to talk about how women feel about their self-images.  Ok.  Actually, about my self-image, and how I feel about it, to be more exact.  But that’s not a very comfortable thing to talk about.  Ya know?  It’s hard to admit that you don’t think too highly of yourself.  And even harder to admit that you know that is stupid and you need to change.

But something tells me now may be the time to bite the bullet and just be honest.

I have a wonderful friend, Iman Woods, who has dedicated her life to making women feel great about themselves.  She’s a photographer.  A photographer.  Now, I don’t know about you, but when I hear that someone who is a photographer is also someone who is going to make me feel great about myself – those two facts just don’t belong together.  How could a photographer make me feel good about myself?  I’ve seen me.  And having to see me immortalized in a photograph forever is probably not something that is going to make me feel good.  All it does is showcase all of the flaws in an 8×10 for me and all the world to see, right?  Right?

Wrong.

Check out her site: http://www.imanwoods.com/?page/88267/pinup-empowerment.  This woman can do wonderful things.  With some pretty girly clothes and a little makeup – she brings out the beauty in women that was there all along.  She’s not doing anything to change these women with her work.  She’s just showing them off.  Showing them what they may not be able to see without her help.  This is why she calls her work “photo therapy.”  And I think that she, and her work, are both absolutely beautiful.

Well, in addition to being a photographer, Iman is also a writer.  She posted a blog today about her own self-image and how it has changed over the years.  (See the link here if you want to check it out: http://www.8womendream.com/55706/find-your-body-role-model).  After posting this, she and I discussed it a little and she came up with an idea to interview myself and my boyfriend Richard and combine our responses with regards to how we see ‘me.’  I’m not sure what the end result will be, but I’m pretty excited about the possibility.  I have always loved watching an idea of hers as it comes to fruition.  (And you can bet your patootie, I’ll be posting the link here for you to read it when it does!).  Well, as part of the interview process, my first assignment is this – go through and pick out 5 photos of myself that I love.  Easy, right?

Whoa.

I had no idea how hard this would be.  I am looking through posted pictures of myself on Facebook, and I honestly cannot pick out ones that I like.  Each time I start to choose one, I think, “Well this is wrong…,” or “Well, that is wrong.”  “My hair looks bad in this one.”  “This one makes me look fat.”  “This one makes me look too tall.”  “My boobs look too big in this one.”  (Hey, I’m being honest here.)  Each and every picture holds something that I’m not happy with and don’t want displayed in an upcoming blog article.

What the heck is up with that??

I really don’t think I realized how much my self-image needed work until the past few hours.  Oh, I’d seen clues, of course.  For instance, I compare myself to other women like crazy.  Especially certain women.  I know I need to stop that, but I haven’t figured out how to just yet.  I’m working on it though.

This reminds me of lyrics from the Sara Evans song, “I Keep Lookin:”

“Well  the straight-haired girls, they all want curls
And the brunettes wanna be blonde;
It’s your typical thing – you’ve got yin,  you want yang
It just goes on and on.”

Yep.  That’s me.  I’m not extremely tall by any means, but when I’m standing beside certain short, petite women, I feel like an Amazon.  And I start to wish I was shorter.  (Ironically, one of these particular petite women has always wished she was taller…go figure).  I see a woman with long beautiful straight hair and I despise these wild crazy curls that I was “blessed” with.  And yet, women spend tons of money on curling irons and perms every day.  Again, go figure.  I search the ends of the earth trying to fight the right sports bra to fit my needs and then I see tiny little women not having to worry about that problem and I find myself wishing I didn’t have these giant….well, you know.  And yet, plastic surgeons stay in business for women who’d kill to have this problem.

Sigh.

I’m not the only one who does this, right?  Good grief, what the heck is wrong with us, ladies?

Well, as I have just displayed in this blog, I don’t have a quick fix.  I don’t know the answer to how to make us comfortable in our skin rather than seeing what we falsely deem as “perfection” in others.  All I know to do is this.  Start finding one thing you like about yourself every day.  Just one.  Of course everything you like about yourself doesn’t have to be appearance-related, but since that’s what I’m focusing on here – let’s start with that.

I’ll go first.  I’ll tell you one thing I like about myself.

Ok.  Here goes.

(Gosh, why is it so hard to do this???)

Alright….my legs.  I do, I like my legs.  They’re not too flabby – pretty muscular actually now after a year of running.  They’d probably look great in heels if I’d ever learn to walk in the dang things.  So, there we go.  It’s done.  There’s the one thing I like about myself for the day.  Now, on to trying to come up with something for tomorrow…

Hey, who knows?  Maybe after a few days of doing this, a few weeks, a few months…it’ll be less and less hard to think of something.  Maybe by then we’ll be seeing ourselves in the light that we so easily seem to see others in.  Wouldn’t that be awesome?

Oh, and I almost forgot.  Before I end this blog….since I have to do it anyway, I’ll go ahead and pick one of the photos of myself that I like and post it here.  This is a photo that was taken of me to use as a headshot in a theatre show I did earlier this year.  It took me a while to actually like it (it’s SO close up!), but once I decided it wasn’t so bad, I decided to just go for it.  So, here ya go.

me

There.  I did it.  One down, four to go…

Your turn.

***

“Relentless, repetitive self talk is what changes our self-image.”
– Denis Waitley

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22

Apr. ’13

Uncomfortable

uncomfortable

I was at my boyfriend’s house over the weekend and his big, sweet cat came and plopped himself on me.  He was stretched at an obviously awkward angle with his little head burrowed into my chest.  Richard made some comment about how much “Mittens loves me” and I responded with, “No, I think Mittens just likes having a comfortable place to lay.”  Richard’s response: “No way.  Look at him.  That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.”

“That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.”

Such a seemingly innocent, yet ultimately profound statement.  I mean, think about it.  How many times does this end up being the case?   Love just really isn’t always all that comfortable.  Ya know?

Let me give you a few examples to explain where I’m headed with this.

I mentioned in a previous blog that I watched my cousin feeding my grandpa in the nursing home a few weeks ago.  I know she got tired of that.  She stood there for a very long time and I’m sure she got tired of all of that standing.  I’m sure her legs were sore.  I’m sure her arms got sore from the time it took to feed him.  I’m sure it was hard trying to understand what he was telling her and what he was asking for through his incoherent rambling.  I’m sure it was…well…uncomfortable.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

I remember watching my daughter once serve as a capo for my boyfriend’s guitar.  No, really.  He was using a capo-less guitar that didn’t belong to him to play a requested song for my family at a holiday get-together.  My daughter jumped up and offered to hold it for him so it would sound right.  She stood there and pressed down on the strings as he played.  It was just so darn cute.  Here, I’ll show you.

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And afterwards?  Bless her heart, she had grooves in her little fingers from where she had to press so hard.  But she was so proud to have helped.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

I watched my sister stand for hours beside the incubators of her newborn premature twin babies.  I know she got tired standing there.  I know it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to stand there and hold a syringe up above the babies so that their milk could flow down through their feeding tube.  I know that as a brand new mom it certainly wasn’t comfortable trying to work around all of the wires and monitors to change a teeny tiny little squirming baby’s diaper.  I know it’s not comfortable giving up hours and hours of her days traveling to and from the hospital that is close to 2 hours away while she continues to take care of them during the many weeks they remain in neonatal intensive care until they’re big enough to go home.  But she does it.

jenbaby

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

Another example.  I’m training for a half marathon.  And it is SO hard.  I get frustrated with myself at times.  My legs hurt.  I’m tired.  It’s difficult to squeeze in the time required to devote to the training.  But you know what?  I love running.  Why?  Because it’s making me a better person.  In more ways than I can count.  Running all those miles at one time?  No – definitely not comfortable.  But is it love?  Yes.  Love for the sport and love for the me that I’m becoming as I struggle through the discomfort. It’s not comfortable – it’s love.

These are just a few personal examples, but look around and you’ll see so many more.  Watch the coverage from the Boston marathon a week ago today.  I’m sure you’ve seen the picture of Carlos Arredondo.  He is the man who ran alongside a wheelchair holding an exposed leg artery closed for a complete stranger so that he wouldn’t bleed to death.  Comfortable?  No, of course not.  Love for a complete stranger?  Sure looks like that to me.

There are so many examples that surround us at any given time.  Love wears such a vast array of costumes.  And more often than we may realize – it’s disguised in discomfort.

We live in a society where love is portrayed in romance novels and movies to be all butterflies and rainbows.  The prince ends up with the princess.  They live in their castle and with the birds chirping and the sun shining for the rest of their lives.  Must be nice.  But out here in the real world?  Yeah, love is a different story out here.  Love takes work.  It takes sacrifice.  It takes eyes that see past the flaws and faith that believes beyond the impossible.

My boyfriend and I have been through some tough times.  We both have had issues to rise above and move past.  Sometimes we’ve given up temporarily, but we keep finding our way back.  We sometimes find ourselves surrounded by reminders that take us back to things we’re trying to forget.  We sometimes have outside influences that, knowingly or not, chip away at what we’re trying to build together.  And sometimes our own selfishness and insecurities do the chipping without any help.  No, love is definitely not always butterflies and rainbows.  Sometimes it’s just plain….uncomfortable.  It hurts, it’s hard, it takes work.  But yet, we stay.  Why do we do that?  Why are we still here?

Well.  You know.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

***

“It ain’t pretty, but it’s beautiful
Our love ain’t perfect, but it’s wonderful
We’re still learning to be loveable
It ain’t pretty, but it’s beautiful.”

– Clay Walker (It Ain’t Pretty lyrics)
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08

Mar. ’13

Scars

scarspic2

I have scars.  A bunch of them.

The most notable one, though, is this one particular disgusting surgery scar on my stomach.  Oh, it’s hideous, let me tell ya.  It never healed correctly – busted open a few times and had to be reattended to and whatnot.  Anyway, the end result was a discolored, 1/2-inch wide, 8-inch long monstrosity that covers my entire torso.  Ewww.

But you know what’s kinda funny about that?  I barely ever remember that it’s there.

Isn’t that weird?  I have this hideous “thing” that is probably the first thing people’s eyes are drawn to if they see my stomach; and yet I, the person who looks at it everyday, hardly see it anymore.

Which, of course, got me to thinking.  (As just about everything seems to do these days…)  Isn’t it strange that I have this glaring obvious scar right there in the mirror that I barely notice, and yet I spend so much time looking at and concentrating on the scars that aren’t so visible?  Those are the ones that I try to “hide.”  The ones that I feel are obvious to the world and that I spend so much senseless time worrying about and trying to gloss over.

But that’s just silly.

“There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature.  A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with.” – Harry Crews

It’s those invisible scars that seem to bother us the most, isn’t it?  But like the above quote says, the hurt is over.  It’s over.  Let yourself ponder that for a second.  Yes, the healing process may still be taking place, but the actual hurt – the actual inflicting of pain – is gone.  That step is behind us.  Isn’t that awesome?

I defeated the cancer that caused all of the scars on the outside of my body, so I will also defeat any and everything that comes along and causes the inner scars.  Scars are proof of victory.  I have been victorious before, and I will be victorious now.

And I have a feeling that someone out there reading this right now might have needed to hear this too.  The pain is over, the scars remain – but we are the champions.  Don’t let yourself forget that.

Fight on, my friend.

***

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls;
the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
– Khalil Gibran

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19

Feb. ’13

Flaws

flaws4

Whew.

So, I had the idea of writing a blog about flaws.  Not sure exactly where I was headed with that, but just thought it seemed to go along with a general theme I’ve had in my life lately.  When you go through a major life change (in my case, a breakup – but it can be anything, a job change, a move, a death of a loved one, etc.), it’s actually a good time to do a little reassessing. Ya know, looking around.  Trying to figure out who you are, why you’re here, etc., and use that information to make a fresh start.  And in my particular case, it has made me take a pretty good hard long look at myself and wonder what part I may have played in getting to where I am now.  Now, I’m not saying I’m beating myself up.  On the contrary, actually.  It’s just a little self-analysis.  A little realization of who I am – the good and the bad – and deciding what might need to be worked on.

So, that was the idea.  But.  Well.  That’s not exactly what ended up happening.

I didn’t realize what a can of worms this would open up.

I reached out to some friends (and even some exes if you can believe that) to ask them to be honest with me about what they saw in me that they would consider flaws.  Let me give you some examples of the answers I got.

  • An ex-boyfriend response: You were always wondering/worrying about my thoughts/feelings even when I insisted I was telling you the truth.
  • A close friend response: I feel that you are dependent on other people’s views & feelings toward you to determine your emotional state & self-worth.
  • Another ex-boyfriend: I always loved talking to you.  More than you know.  But when I would say I didn’t want to talk about something, you wouldn’t let it go.  I would get so mad, I would just shut down completely.
  • Another close friend:  I feel like you spend too much time searching for something externally to fill the God-sized hole inside of you.  [Wow.]
  • Another ex-boyfriend: I value my life too much to answer that question.  [Haha…that’s my favorite.]
  • Another close friend: You need to recognize your own worth and awesomeness more. [Ok nevermind, maybe that’s my favorite…and I actually got this response more than once.]

(Now, I could go in all kinds of tangents with analyzing those responses, but I’m going to try not to get too deep.  Just stating the facts here, peeps. )

  • Another notable response – When mentioning that I was writing this article, someone remarked: I think you’re just venting.  It’s time to move on.

Hmmm.  Ok.  We may have to come back to that one.  But first:

In doing all this ‘research,’ a friend of mine reminded me of the Jennifer Grey nose job story.  You’ll probably remember Jennifer Grey from Dirty Dancing.  But I’m willing to bet you that you don’t remember her from anything else.  After Dirty Dancing, she had a nose job.  Apparently she had a ‘bump’ on her nose (news to me) that she thought she needed to have fixed.  So, she did.  She saw a “flaw” and she zapped it.  But then, you know what happened?  Her career plummeted.  She was quoted as saying, “I went in the operating room a celebrity – and came out anonymous. It was like being in a witness protection program or being invisible. I remember going to a restaurant where I had been going for years. I ran into people I knew and would say, ‘Hey.’ Nothing. I’ll always be this once-famous actress nobody recognizes… because of a nose job.”  She was no longer even recognizable.  Now, I’m not saying she had been “known” for her nose or anything – but changing something that made her who she was made her someone that people didn’t even recognize anymore.  Fixing what she thought was a flaw, ended up changing her life.  And not for the better.

Ok, so I’ve thrown this random smorgasbord of information out here.  Now, what do I do with it?

Well, here we go.

So here’s what I have decided, and it all comes down to this: I’m a hot mess.  Yes, there are definitely some things that I could work on.  There are. (Being less insistent for responses from others being the main one that jumps out at me.)  But, so what!?  I’m a little insistent.  Big fat hairy deal.  Yes, I care a little too much what people think of me.  That’s a flaw.  It’s me.  It’s who I am.  Maybe that’s why I write?  For the responses I get from others?  For the feedback?  Eh, who knows…

Which brings me back to the remark about ‘venting.’

Is that what I’m doing?  Ok.  Maybe so.  But here’s my response to that.  Elizabeth Gilbert (author of Eat Pray Love) is one of my favorite authors of all time. She motivates me and she inspires me. If she had stopped “venting” and just moved on without writing about it, she wouldn’t be where she is today. And maybe I wouldn’t be where I am today without that influence.  So, in that same fashion, I’m not going to stop either.  Writing is therapeutic; it’s healing; it’s who I am.  I take what happens in my life and I vomit it out on paper for all the world to see.  Am I crazy?  Maybe.  Am I too transparent?  Maybe.  Am I making a fool of myself?  Maybe.  But let me tell you something.  As of my latest stat count, people have looked at this crazy transparent fool’s blog a grand total of 500 times.  500 times people have looked at what I have to say.  And if only one of those 500 times ended up being a time that touched someone’s heart and showed them that they aren’t alone in this crazy world we all live in, then it was worth it.  Unlike Jennifer Grey’s nose – this blog ain’t changing.  I’m not changing.  Flaws and all, here I am.

And on that note…I’ll leave you with a quote from Robert Porterfield, the founder of Barter Theatre in Abingdon, Virginia:

“If you like us, talk about us!
If you don’t, then keep your mouth shut.”

 

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