Force

tree-and-storm-2

Things I am learning about myself that I knew all along:

I was never made to fit into a mold. I thought that I had never tried to meet other people’s expectations of me. I actually detested the thought of it. I felt that I purposefully paved my own way, the way I wanted, the way that felt right to me. Then somewhere along the way, I realized, I have been contorting myself all along, to fit into the mold of who the people I care about need me to be. Maybe it’s a childhood thing, maybe it’s insecurities, but this habit I’ve formed,  has exploded in my face. Because I was never meant to be complacent. I wasn’t meant to be the quiet helper, the background, the silence in the storm. I am the storm. I’m messy and unpredictable and intense.  I demand attention and need validation. I have edges and curves and darkness and light. I am much more interesting than the questions you don’t think to ask me. I am a risk. I am a force.

I have a dog, a beautiful boxer named Harlow. She is strong and big and fierce. People admire her. Strangers stop to watch her, to meet her. And I pity anyone who ever gets too close to our house if she is loose. But what they don’t know about her is that she is very insecure. She has attachment   problems. When she is excited and wants you to pet her, she has this tendency to curl herself into a little ball, as if she thinks that she has to make herself little in order for you to show her any affection. Because if she stood straight and confident, then maybe you would back away, maybe you would be intimidated by her.

I feel like I have more in common with her than I would like to admit. I have been making myself small for a long time. Curling myself into a ball so I can be liked, admired, loved. This pattern has been reinforced because I’ve been rejected before for being too strong, too assertive, too willful, too myself. Watching family, friends, love interests recoil because you just might be too untamed to trust, will do that. Over time my edges have worn down, my defenses weakened, my fire snuffed. And in it’s place, all my insecurities, my fears, and my worries took over. Leading me to this point. I’ve forgotten who I am. I’ve forgotten what I want and who I want to be. But I am strong and big and fierce. And I will no longer make myself small. I don’t want to fit anyone’s mold anymore. Because I am enough. And that should be good enough for everyone else.

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About samlobos

I am an avid fan of creating narratives in my head about random experiences and quotes for future books I will probably not write. I harbor a 15 year old girl in my psyche and like to solve world issues when I'm half asleep. View all posts by samlobos

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