Fear, you familiar bitch

Last night a good friend sent me this, with the comment: "That is you!" And it made me want to scream.


I wanted to scream not because I disagree. On the contrary. I agree 100% with the quote.

It's the "that is you" part I have trouble with.

I have spent a lifetime and a half (yes, I know the math doesn't work, indulge me) struggling with this very fear. The fear of being who I am.

There are good reasons for this. Who I am can be a upsetting at times. I mean, I'm a lot to take, and not everyone can deal with the very Brigittian essence of my oft-overwhelming being. I'm intense as all hell. And weird and fierce and powerful when I set my mind to doing something. Oh, and I don't recommend trying to screw me over. There are still people spinning in the revolving doors of the place where my wrath lives.

But then, I remind myself that if I don't dare be who I am, I'll be miserable trying to be someone I'm not. And - for having lived as someone else too many years - I know where this leads. A very, very dark place I don't want to get back to.

So I try. But I still fail. Every day I fail to be who I truly am. There's a part of me that almost never dares to come out. The loving part, the vulnerable part, the little chicken living inside my skin who's afraid to open her heart and have it get hurt. It got hurt before. A lot. And it doesn't want to feel that pain again.

I want to, though. Open my heart, I mean, even at the risk of getting hurt again. So even though I fail every day, I get up every morning determined to try again. One day I will be unafraid of the pain. And maybe then I'll feel beautiful.

Here's a piece of advice I hate

Why I retired...