Keeping it real

Pretty much the essence of who I am is intense honesty and expression. I try to explain how I feel, often to my detriment. For example, tell people about your failures, and they may remember them forever. Tell people a weakness, and they may pounce on it with glee, or just assume you have a screw loose. I will not change, however, and become someone who shelters emotion or puts up a facade. Yes, I may attempt to no longer so easily wear my heart on my sleeve, but if I have learned anything in the last year of self-discovery, it is that I'm overall pleased with my own character. Do some things need work? Sure, everyone has problem areas. I have as much to work on as the next person, but I certainly do lead an ethical life, and I am thankfully not plagued with huge issues that some people have to deal with like drug addiction or abuse or whatever else. So I'm already ahead of the game. Anyway, I have chosen recently to blog about some personal issues, and the people involved in that discussion have taken it personally. I'm frankly shocked by it all, because I didn't think I came across rudely or that I threw a tantrum or that I was being selfish. Evidently there was more resentment going on than just in my own head, because my friend has chosen to wash her hands of me. Because I blogged about her? What's that all about? Why am I writing again? Because I encourage all of you to be forthright and open and upfront with your feelings. It's okay to voice opinions even if they differ. It's okay to be angry at times. It's okay to have questions. It's okay to believe in yourself. Too much stuffing emotion under the rug winds up in disease--of the body and of relationships. I have never ever intended for my comments to be game playing or barbs that wound. I always just wanted to have honest and special relationships with people. Sure, I make mistakes, and I thought I owned up to them. In the last two years, I have lost my father (he passed away), and my boyfriend (breaking up is its own form of death that requires mourning). Neither was my fault, and I tried to be the best I could possibly be to both of those people. I have no regrets. I lost another relationship prior to that that was dysfunctional but still so close to my heart, and I am thankful for it and all of its angles. The sum of all parts, however, still equals loss. Loss hangs off me like dodder, waiting to strangle. Now I lose my best friends. But, you know, I have gained insight into myself. I am comfortable with who I am and what I represent. That is a huge discovery. I feel awakened, and am therefore calm. I move forward, that's all one can do.