You know what I find tricky? I find this prompt tricky. Because the word ‘tricky’ immediately conjures up a number of relatively superficial things in my mind. I think firstly of my kids whinging, ‘But mum it’s too tricky!’ when I ask them to clean up their warzone of toys. I think of overweight cats trying to get into boxes that are far too small for them. And these thoughts annoy me somewhat. Because I don’t want this blog to be superficial. I don’t want to be superficial. I want to be deep, and brave, and honest, and raw and profound. That is how I have always wanted to be perceived, for as long as I can remember. But why? Why do I feel such a strong need to be deep and profound? What is it about dabbling in a lighter, more humorous themes that worries me?
This is something that I pondered for some time last night when I pounced on my phone with the agility of a cat to get the word prompt for today from The Daily Post. The thing is I’m actually quite a witty and humorous person. I make the people around me laugh a lot – at me and with me. I’m not above being superficial. I can appreciate the lighter moments in life and I don’t take everything seriously. Yet this blog is a reflection only of the deepest and darkest parts of me. So why is it that I have chosen only to reflect those aspects of myself? What am I afraid of?
I realised that the people who have liked my work, and those who have followed me, thus far have responded to the deep, profound and honest part of me. I don’t want to disappoint them by writing something that fails to meet the standard I have set for myself – for fear that they will read it and think, ‘What the fuck is this drivel? I thought this chick was deep, but this is crap and it’s not what I signed up for’. I am afraid to disappoint my readers. Even as I write it I know how ridiculous it sounds. But I like the fact that I am being accepted, and even praised, for my depth. It is something that is not so easily accepted in the real world. I tend to hide my depth full stop from women, and will only allow access to it once I fully trust a female I have come to know as a friend. With men its always been a different story – because they are the people from which I have subconsciously tried to extract my self-worth. I slap men in the face with my depth as a challenge. I throw all my cards on the table and say, ‘Here I am, take it or leave it’. This has had the effect of either causing men to be intensely fascinated and intrigued by me – often falling too hard and fast. Or it goes the other way and they run for the hills. There has rarely been any middle ground. Men are either intimidated by me and not interested at all, or they are infactuated. NO middle ground for me. And it’s almost entirely my fault, because of the way I used to go about my interactions.
I am not doing this in the real world now. I have taken stock of my past, identified my patterns, and am taking the courage to shift them. Instead I have entered the blogging world – blazing into this community to redefine and own who I am. What I have crafted here is an image of me the way I want to be seen … a deep and profound individual who utilises creativity to explore myself and the world around me. It has become intrinsically important to me to utter nothing but my deepest truths in this space. And that should be enough. Just the voicing of them, and the acknowledgement of them to myself should be enough. But I still want the acceptance, and the praise. I didn’t expect the praise at first. I tentatively longed for acceptance, and was genuinely surprised when elements of praise started filtering in. Now I find myself relishing the praise. And I hate that fact. I hate the fact that it gives me an ego boost when someone praises my work. I wish I didn’t need it. But it makes me feel like I’m offering something of worth. It makes me feel like I have worth. It makes me feel like I’m special in some way.
And that need to be special is such a deep-seated source of vulnerability and insecurity in me. It seeps into everything that I do, whether I do it consciously or not. It is, by far, the trickiest thing that I contend with in terms of knowing myself. I have failed to make myself feel special my whole life. I have always relied on others to do it for me. It is only in the last year that I have realised just how much of an effect this need has had on my life and my relationships. I have the knowledge of it now. But I still don’t know how to provide it for myself. So every time I get a comment on here saying that I’m talented, or I’ve articulated something well, or I’ve touched someone, the child in me feels a wash of relief and pink-dappled happiness, and I think ‘Maybe I am special after all. Maybe I do have something to offer the world’. I know I have to learn to facilitate this feeling of worth in myself. But it is insanely tricky, and I just don’t know how yet. Not yet. But I’m getting there. For the first time in my life I feel like I’m getting there.
This blog is about taking the risk to put myself out there brazenly and without alteration. It is about coming to know myself – accepting myself and questioning any parts that are not authentic. My humour and fun-loving light sides are parts of me that are authentic. And I should accept them, and not be afraid to let the world see them. I should not be afraid that the world will think less of me for their presence. It could be the opposite – maybe the world will think ‘Hey, this chick is deep AND funny, rare excellent combo!’ Who knows? The point is that I shouldn’t be so invested in what the world will think. THAT is what needs to change in me. I talk the talk of ‘This is who I am – like it or lump it’ … but I am failing to walk the walk. Well, not anymore.
So without further adieu, to commemorate the introduction of my silly humourous side to my fellow bloggers, I give you, ‘Overweight Cat Trying to Squeeze into a Small Box’ …