I've been doing a lot of thinking again. Something that to some probably seems dangerous.
Once upon a time I was not a quilter and I kept a blog. I wrote about anything and everything that had nothing to do with quilting. Sex and relationships. Politics. Kitty cats. Lady bugs. Sunshine. Depression. Glitter. Drink recipes. You name it, I wrote about it. I had a lot of readers. Thousands. They liked what I had to say, I guess - but that wasn't the point. It was my outlet to purge my brain of the jumbled mess that seems to take up so much space, there is no room left for the" important" things.
I no longer have that outlet as I shut that blog down (with no trace left of it so don't bother looking) so I sometimes have to let it spill over here. I hope you don't mind.
This is something that I've written about before and I'll likely write about it again because it is a problem that will never go away. But I truly believe that if enough (all) people teach their children the value of truly loving and accepting one another, a generation far, far away could possibly coexist peacefully and happily. But you may say I'm a dreamer...
Once again I've been thinking about people and how they act/interact/react. Something that I and you have known all along is one of the most unfortunate truths universally: appearance matters. To what degree? Well, that's relative to who you ask. However it's rather unsettling that we as people look at others and are forced to first see their appearance before being able to look past it to the person within. We tend to decide based on peoples' appearance if we WILL look past it to the person within. And that is just not fair. To either party, really.
I remember back in the good old days when it was still okay for people to go online into chat rooms and such without a picture posted. People would still talk to you. I enjoyed that. I enjoyed interacting with people knowing that they were getting to know ME, and not the me that they perceived me to be based on how I look. Long gone are those days.
I do enough judging of my of my outward appearance on my own without the input of others.
Swirling and whirling and twirling around in my mind have been thoughts and wonderment at how others perceive themselves. Me and myself, there are several things about my appearance that I don't necessarily like. But all of those things about myself that I don't like, have some how helped to shape me into the person that I am on the inside. I like the person that I am on the inside.
I have lived in this body with this face in all of their respective ever-changing forms for 31 years. I don't have to like it, but I can accept it for what it is. And in accepting it, I can learn to not only like it, but love it. I am comfortable enough in my own skin.
The thing that I find most baffling is that each and every one of us has these feelings of I'd-like-to-change-this and it seems so difficult for some to remember that when looking at others.
I loathe being both victim of and witness to being made fun of for something that is so profoundly not a choice. Big noses, small breasts, fat hips, crooked teeth, poor eyesight, frizzy hair, the list goes on. And on. And on. And ON. Dear boys: that flat-chested girl sitting next to you in study hall can't help her cup size any more than you can help the fact that you're hung like a butterfly. Mmmkay? Get my point? Try to look past someone's lack of being what you feel to be the pinnacle of physical perfection and get to know them as a person, regardless of their outward appearance. You may just be surprised that "ugly" people can be quite beautiful. Of course it's also true that the people you think are beautiful can be pretty hideous.
I've mentioned a time or two that I pay attention to the search terms and keywords that lead people to this little blog thing I've got. Most of the time they are funny. Actually, no most of the time the search terms are various forms of my name. Then second are the funny ones. But some really pull at my heart strings. Some take my breath away, bring tears to my eyes, make me gasp, make me wish I could reach out and hug whomever it was that conducted a search for *insert keywords here*.
To think that there are people out there that are lonely enough with no one to talk to that they resort to searching the internet for some enlightenment on how to think they're pretty, or how to feel like someone cares, or how to get over the feeling of wanting to die - it breaks my heart. And reminds me a lot of the me that I used to be.
Something that a lot of people don't understand about me is that I'm incredibly sensitive. I realize that my personality would probably not at all elude to that. I know that I might be (sometimes) loud, happy, sparkly, shiny and sometimes vulgar - and that really is just me. I don't like to censor myself (though I do a lot for this blog - you're welcome!) and I try to make the decision every day when I get up to be the very best me that I can be. Gone are the days when I let the opinions of others determine the outcome of my life or my level of happiness. I spent a large portion of my life in that dark place and while we all have our days, I refuse to go back there. Inside I am so sensitive to these things. I see someone hurting and I hurt for them. Actual physical manifestation of emotional hurt. I learn of someone suffering a loss and I feel lost right there with them. I think about things from my past and I'm immediately right back there as if I'm reliving a certain hell. And when I learn of people being made fun of, once again I'm taken right back to when life equated to misery.
I don't really know what the point of any of this is. Except that I'm hurting. Not for myself, but for you, him, her, that guy over there, the lady down the street. I know how it feels to be bound by fear and doubt and self loathing and I wish I could take it away for everyone else. It's a really shitty feeling. Sickening. Exhausting both mentally and physically. Crippling. I can't take it away as it's something that each person has to rid themselves of. I all have to find that force within ourselves to take control and make changes, little by little. What I can do is offer an ear to someone that needs to talk. I can offer condolences and advice and personal experiences until I'm blue in the face. I can remind you that each and every one of us is beautiful in our own ways. I can remind you that you're never alone. In doing so I can remind myself of that at the same time.
Last week I saw a show on tv called The XFactor. I didn't know what it was, but thought I'd leave it on for background noise while I worked on other things. It wasn't terribly distracting until the last segment when I saw this...
THE single most beautiful, amazing and moving live performance I have ever seen in my life. And I cry like a baby ever time I watch it.
It's okay not to be okay.
Once upon a time I was not a quilter and I kept a blog. I wrote about anything and everything that had nothing to do with quilting. Sex and relationships. Politics. Kitty cats. Lady bugs. Sunshine. Depression. Glitter. Drink recipes. You name it, I wrote about it. I had a lot of readers. Thousands. They liked what I had to say, I guess - but that wasn't the point. It was my outlet to purge my brain of the jumbled mess that seems to take up so much space, there is no room left for the" important" things.
I no longer have that outlet as I shut that blog down (with no trace left of it so don't bother looking) so I sometimes have to let it spill over here. I hope you don't mind.
This is something that I've written about before and I'll likely write about it again because it is a problem that will never go away. But I truly believe that if enough (all) people teach their children the value of truly loving and accepting one another, a generation far, far away could possibly coexist peacefully and happily. But you may say I'm a dreamer...
Once again I've been thinking about people and how they act/interact/react. Something that I and you have known all along is one of the most unfortunate truths universally: appearance matters. To what degree? Well, that's relative to who you ask. However it's rather unsettling that we as people look at others and are forced to first see their appearance before being able to look past it to the person within. We tend to decide based on peoples' appearance if we WILL look past it to the person within. And that is just not fair. To either party, really.
I remember back in the good old days when it was still okay for people to go online into chat rooms and such without a picture posted. People would still talk to you. I enjoyed that. I enjoyed interacting with people knowing that they were getting to know ME, and not the me that they perceived me to be based on how I look. Long gone are those days.
I do enough judging of my of my outward appearance on my own without the input of others.
Swirling and whirling and twirling around in my mind have been thoughts and wonderment at how others perceive themselves. Me and myself, there are several things about my appearance that I don't necessarily like. But all of those things about myself that I don't like, have some how helped to shape me into the person that I am on the inside. I like the person that I am on the inside.
I have lived in this body with this face in all of their respective ever-changing forms for 31 years. I don't have to like it, but I can accept it for what it is. And in accepting it, I can learn to not only like it, but love it. I am comfortable enough in my own skin.
The thing that I find most baffling is that each and every one of us has these feelings of I'd-like-to-change-this and it seems so difficult for some to remember that when looking at others.
I loathe being both victim of and witness to being made fun of for something that is so profoundly not a choice. Big noses, small breasts, fat hips, crooked teeth, poor eyesight, frizzy hair, the list goes on. And on. And on. And ON. Dear boys: that flat-chested girl sitting next to you in study hall can't help her cup size any more than you can help the fact that you're hung like a butterfly. Mmmkay? Get my point? Try to look past someone's lack of being what you feel to be the pinnacle of physical perfection and get to know them as a person, regardless of their outward appearance. You may just be surprised that "ugly" people can be quite beautiful. Of course it's also true that the people you think are beautiful can be pretty hideous.
I've mentioned a time or two that I pay attention to the search terms and keywords that lead people to this little blog thing I've got. Most of the time they are funny. Actually, no most of the time the search terms are various forms of my name. Then second are the funny ones. But some really pull at my heart strings. Some take my breath away, bring tears to my eyes, make me gasp, make me wish I could reach out and hug whomever it was that conducted a search for *insert keywords here*.
To think that there are people out there that are lonely enough with no one to talk to that they resort to searching the internet for some enlightenment on how to think they're pretty, or how to feel like someone cares, or how to get over the feeling of wanting to die - it breaks my heart. And reminds me a lot of the me that I used to be.
Something that a lot of people don't understand about me is that I'm incredibly sensitive. I realize that my personality would probably not at all elude to that. I know that I might be (sometimes) loud, happy, sparkly, shiny and sometimes vulgar - and that really is just me. I don't like to censor myself (though I do a lot for this blog - you're welcome!) and I try to make the decision every day when I get up to be the very best me that I can be. Gone are the days when I let the opinions of others determine the outcome of my life or my level of happiness. I spent a large portion of my life in that dark place and while we all have our days, I refuse to go back there. Inside I am so sensitive to these things. I see someone hurting and I hurt for them. Actual physical manifestation of emotional hurt. I learn of someone suffering a loss and I feel lost right there with them. I think about things from my past and I'm immediately right back there as if I'm reliving a certain hell. And when I learn of people being made fun of, once again I'm taken right back to when life equated to misery.
I don't really know what the point of any of this is. Except that I'm hurting. Not for myself, but for you, him, her, that guy over there, the lady down the street. I know how it feels to be bound by fear and doubt and self loathing and I wish I could take it away for everyone else. It's a really shitty feeling. Sickening. Exhausting both mentally and physically. Crippling. I can't take it away as it's something that each person has to rid themselves of. I all have to find that force within ourselves to take control and make changes, little by little. What I can do is offer an ear to someone that needs to talk. I can offer condolences and advice and personal experiences until I'm blue in the face. I can remind you that each and every one of us is beautiful in our own ways. I can remind you that you're never alone. In doing so I can remind myself of that at the same time.
Last week I saw a show on tv called The XFactor. I didn't know what it was, but thought I'd leave it on for background noise while I worked on other things. It wasn't terribly distracting until the last segment when I saw this...
THE single most beautiful, amazing and moving live performance I have ever seen in my life. And I cry like a baby ever time I watch it.
It's okay not to be okay.
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