Who Me? And Other Fairy Tales....Once upon a Time

Sometime in April 2015… Oh, oh...another blog...must be another stage of life. The urge to write swelling from within. Blah blah blah. This is certainly not my first kick at the cat (really...did someone really think that was an appropriate saying?). Apparently they did! Knowing that "I would not sleep until I actually discover where that saying came from", I turned to the only place that can answer all life's queries..."GOOGLE". Ah, ha! I was pleasantly surprised to not only discover that I am saying the saying the phrase correctly, I can indeed say it with pride. According to the Oxford Dictionary of Idioms, the expression is "Canadian Informal" and bears the meaning of; "an opportunity to achieve something". And so it is with great pleasure I plan on taking advantage of the attempt of, "kicking the cat" one more time. I suppose now it might be appropriate to introduce myself, although that would be saying that I actually think someone might be reading these words. The reality is, and with all honesty...it doesn't matter. Because I write because I have to. I have needed to write since before my double digits were celebrated (and no I am not referring to my cup size). However, the only consistent thing about my writing, is in its very essence...its very inconsistency. I have kept most of what I have written. Journals, diaries, picture frames with poems. I have written of tears and I have written with tears. Nonetheless, when I look back on my past, one of my only regrets, is of the times I did not write. Some of those times the words just wouldn't come and in some of those times, the words were there, but I allowed them to swirl around in my head thinking I would never forget them...but I did. If I were to be really honest there has been much of my life where the only place for my real feelings was either hidden in the recess of my mind or hidden on the pages of a book I prayed no one would ever find. I am not sure what changed my mind to share the thoughts with others. Perhaps it was just age. If we are lucky, the older we get we fear less of what we "think" might hurt us. We become willing to open ourselves up the vulnerabilities of imperfection, and we care more about "who am I? what does it mean? and where do I really come from". Perhaps one day I will share the story of my youth. The youth where I created the kingdom from whence I came; but for today we will go slowly. And so I introduce me to you. I am a girl. I have dreams of white picket fences and falling in love. Of being swept of my feet, of living happily ever after. Everywhere there are girls just like me. We do not dream of "being ANYTHING that we want to be". It is not that we lack ambition but it is simply just that no one has opened up that world for us. For girls like me, we just want to be happy. We don't look back on our past with anger or bitterness, we just look at it as something we want to move away from, if we can. We hope. And we don't hope to much. We have learned to curb our expectations, because that is much better than dealing with our disappointments. And so where does this leave me today? There is a part of me that knows that when I walk down the street or shop in the store, you the stranger see a woman. Most days I might even be considered "well dressed". I buy groceries with decisiveness, chat confidently with strangers, and even smile at children. You might be surprised to hear that I really don't understand where the last 30 years have disappeared and that I feel only mere moments older that that girl who dreamed of a fairy tale that might come true. And so this blog is just a little moment that I am taking just for myself. It is a place for me to get out much of what I use to keep inside. I have discovered that we often forget that the moments of pain, happiness, or even confusion that we experience are experienced by others. Life is not a silo and to live it well means to move beyond egocentricities. For me these words are really a reflection on my life today from a person who 30 years ago I never knew I had the possibility to become. It is also the beginning of story of what I think is my journey of growing up because for although for 30 years I have done grownup things, there has been a little girl who has been afraid to be. I feel in so many ways I am just on the verge of becoming the adult I should have perhaps become long ago, but then I remind myself that the beauty of life is also in the acceptance of timing. And in this timing I am finally ready to allow myself to be vulnerable because what I have learned over the passing of time is that it is the vulnerability that reaches others. It is the gift that you give to others so that they will realize that they are not alone. I believe that in my quest to escape my early years I held onto my fantasy by not allowing me to be me. What I have discovered is that when we open our souls, we can have something much more precious than a fairy tale. Today I rather like, "the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly". Today I rather like, the real me.