Mundane

Someone once called me a tactless diplomat and while I gave them the finger at that moment, it is a description that suits me better than I like.  While I dislike grievances between people, I fail to find the necessary subtleties to resolve disputes.  I wasn’t always so outspoken and blatant about my opinions and thoughts.  I was once a subservient and shy woman who knew well how to depress her teeth firmly into her tongue.  There was a time when I was still naive and bashful.  But that was many hurts ago.  And as each pain ripped further into my heart, I stopped bothering with the niceties expected of good girls.  I began taking advantage of the moments as they presented themselves and spoke my mind freely.  I’ve intimidated and scared off family, friends and potential loved ones with this decision to be who I am, but I no longer rage within and try to work off the angst of not speaking my mind.

It’s the little things that matter.  At least to me.  The details and actions that most people would ignore or move past I feel some need to harp on and deliniate to the nth degree to determine the how or why.  From the car that sped up to pass me only to take the exit I take and get stuck at the same light with me; to the out of date package of crackers on the shelf at the grocery store – I have some urge to rant about each that I cannot explain or ignore.  I am a happier person once I have spoken my peace, even if it is merely through my thoughts becoming pixels on a screen.

In 2001 I became physically ill.  I was in excrutiating pain to make my way from the living room to my bed, the pain of motion was debilitating.  I had gained weight at an astonishing rate with no change in my lifestyle to explain it.  I finally broke down and visited a doctor.  A quack I called him at the time when after series of tests he offered me his diagnosis of stress.  So I visited another doctor.  And another.  After three diagnosis of stress, I began to give it some merit.  They each, with no knowledge of the other, had told me the same bad news – that I had to remove stress from my life.  How do I do that?  My life and stress were parallel streets with no median to separate the two.

I finally made some significant changes in my life in early 2002 and within months had dropped fifty pounds (well two hundred and fifty if you count some of the changes) and I could walk, breathe, enjoy life.  One of those changes was picking up my pen once more and spilling my emotions onto paper.  I eventually began writing on the computer and later online and while I still speak my mind in person, I more often speak it here.  The stress still moves with me every step I take, but I have learned better how to control it instead of the contrary.

In 2004 I met a man who changed my life so dramatically, it is near impossible to put into words.  We met online and he somehow saw past the bitchy front and took the time to get to know me.  The me beneath the steely wool exterior.  I am so incredibly blessed in that my husband was one of the few men I have ever met who not only failed to be intimidated by me, has the courage to challenge me regularly.  It is comforting to have a man in my life who is able to see through my rants and rambles and verbally put me in my place when I need it and still allow me my rages when I need them.  He spoils me rotten, moreso than I deserve, but I don’t admit that often outloud.

I have two beautiful daughters and neither apple has fallen far from this tree.  I struggle with teaching them the appropriate time to share their unique thoughts and when it is acceptable for them to speak up and out.  In doing so, I find my own flaws quite often and strive to set a better example for them.  That is much of the objective in this blog, to release my words out of my mind and spare those I encounter, even if they do deserve a sliver of my mind.

My oldest is very well versed and I could easily see her becoming an attorney or other litigator with her skill in debate.  Her goal though at this time is to become an archaeologist.  She hides herself well under veils of isolation and stone walls and I see myself in her, or she in me.  I hope for her a man like my husband who can find a way to earn her trust and break past those barriers.  Time shall tell.

My youngest is the ever loving, ever forgiving, outgoing light in my day.  Her only goal at the moment is to meet and marry the Jonas Brothers – any of them will do.  And if will was reality, she would have a diamond on her finger.  She is unique in that she has the biggest heart of anyone I have ever known, child or not.  No amount of pain seems to dampen her spirits for any length of time and the past is always the past.  I wish I could learn that.