I sat down to write and then I spent five minutes picking hair off of my black hoodie. That's what I get for washing my hair and, well, wearing a black hoodie! The end. Wow, whatever writing skills I had have all but disappeared over the past couple of years -- ever since accidentally graduating! I graduate from college and now I have no one telling me to write, no assignments to complete, no deadlines to meet. I am a free woman!!! A free woman who is actually trapped by many, many things. So I am instead a trapped woman!!! A trapped woman who sometimes forget she has a gender. I am merely trapped!!!
So what traps me? Get ready to read a lengthy list. Get ready to be bored by said lengthy list. This snooze fest of a list is therapeutic for me, though. So write it I shall.
I am trapped by...
fear of all kinds, specifically my fear of power, responsibility, illness, death, food, hairballs
for reals, hairballs gross me out like nothing else
society's expectations, maaan!
indecision -- this one is HUGE
self-doubt -- this one is also HUGE
perfectionism (again, this is a very, very large trap)
the music! kidding, I don't know what that means
Okay, I'm done with the list. I even bored myself with the list! It was mostly boring, slightly therapeutic, and, for some reason, a tad erotic. Kidding aaaagain. Guess what? If it hasn't been shockingly obvious, I kid a lot. I joke away the pain, I laugh away the awkwardness, I wink wink nudge nudge my way through life. I think that's okay, though. I think it's okay to be and do a lot of things, so long as it doesn't hurt yourself or anyone else. I suppose some of my puns might be painful... Sorry about that. "Okay" doesn't necessarily mean good, nor does it mean bad. It sort of just means... In between.
Anyway, my traps: Do I try to free myself from them? Do I try to get to that place where I can truthfully exclaim, "I am a free woman!!!" I mean, it seems like the answer would be of course. Of course I should try to better myself, to improve my situation, to aim for the best life possible. But I cannot do any of those things if I do not first accept myself. Once I can accept myself exactly how I am in all my messy, imperfect, obsessive ways will I be able to move forward and begin to live fully, authentically, freely.
Now the challenge is how exactly do I accept my wonky self? Maybe I'll begin to answer that in the next post. For now I am going to head out to the park to hopefully catch a glimpse of my hawk. Have I told you about my hawk? Have I told you that it's not actually my hawk, but everyone's hawk? Or rather, nobody's hawk. The hawk belongs to no one but herself. I am that hawk. Peace, brothers.*
*I never, ever, ever know how to end posts. They always end remarkably weird. BUT I ACCEPT THAT.