After a brave and awesome post by Sierra, and brave, exposing posts by many other bloggers I respect. I wrote this. First in my head, never to be published. Then typed slowly here, to show others that I understand and that we all have these challenges that no one can see. And they're good for us! Be mad! Be sad! And let it make your life and character bigger and better. And then blog about it!
**This is not about the Beard. He is very worried people will think it's about him. It's not. I love the Beard and he is great.**
To the person:
Who makes me second guess even my best decisions
Who can sink my heart to the floor of the proverbial ocean with a phrase or a look
Who only wants to use me like a social credit card, but never pays me off
Who would refuse to be impressed even if Mitt Romney named me his VP running mate
Who has verbally confessed to trying to "bring me down"
Who hides behind a thick veneer of smiles
I wish I could write a cathartic Taylor Swift song about you that would make me millions of dollars, that I could swing my long blonde hair back and forth to onstage. Releasing all the angst that I feel.
I wish I could turn this frustration and inadequacy into some award winning poem or novel or movie script. And that you'd have to watch it, and hear how much EVERYONE loved it and how awesome I am.
But then I hate myself for wishing that, because deep down, I don't hate you. I don't. I don't even want you to hurt. Because although my heart is hard, it is not cold. I just want to be happy and feel ok. Deep down I know you aren't happy either. And I don't like that. Why would we both sit in mutual unhappiness? Idiocy.
And every inspirational quote on Pinterest says that I am in control of my feelings. It's Danica's fault if she feels sad, abused or inadequate in any way.
So you're done. I'm really sorry that you don't like me. I've never meant to rub you the wrong way. I've tried so hard to make up for whichever of my may personality flaws repels you, but this is enough.
You've overstayed your (un)welcome that corner of my brain. Go ahead and pack up the baggage I've been carrying around for you. Don't let the door hit you on the way out. And if you look back, I won't be. I'll be living my life, having a great time, not dwelling on what you might think of me.
Because it only matters what I think of me. And I kind of like me. So suck it!