I want to talk about something. Over the past few days, I haven’t been happy with my posts. I wanted this project to be more…real, rather than full of fluffy posts. So I’m changing this, at least for today.
As I sit here, on my bed, staring at the bright screen, my fingers sitting on the keys, I’m conflicted about even writing this post. Firstly, because I didn’t ever want anything this heavy to be a part of the Fierce and Freckled name. Originally, this blog was supposed to be solely devoted to traveling and cooking. But I also wanted this post to be a part of something bigger than just blogspot, or a little alcove where only 3 people would ever see it. (Not that this is much different, but at least the content it a little more well done than my other blogs, and it’s something I pay for now).
It’s time I talk about the real reasons why I started this self-love project. In fact, it’s the reason I started Fierce and Freckled at all (formally Thyme and Mint). I feel like the only way to move forward and let go is if I confront the heart of the problem.
This blog was a means to ignore and distract myself from the life that was happening around me. It was a way to get myself away and travel, eat, create, and do…without having to think of what was going on at home. But things at home were shaping me into the person I am today without me even realizing.
This is something I really struggle with: I know that people don’t like me. I’m not oblivious to the fact that people groan when they see they’re stuck working with me for the day. I’m hyper-aware of what people think of me. I have a really hard time making friends. An extremely hard time, actually. It’s partly because of who I am.
I am a lot of things. I’m a talker, I’m a know-it-all, I’m a fake, I’m an over-sharer, I’m needy, I’m difficult to get a long with…I just never realized that I am all these things because of the events in my life. Why do I over share? Because I want people to think they know everything about me, when they actually don’t know the important things. Why do I talk? So people don’t have to ask me questions I don’t want to answer. Why am I needy? Because I no longer know how to be myself. Why am I fake? Because I’m too scared to show what’s real. Why am I a know-it-all? Because I came from a family that should have known..
We should have known better. We should have known that things were wrong. We should have seen the signs before it all went south. We should have seen it coming.
Another reason I have a hard time making friends is because I don’t know how to trust.
I don’t know how to trust people. I can’t trust that a person I meet who claims to want to be friends actually wants to be my friend, or wants to hurt me. I can’t trust a man to be alone with a child without thinking there are ulterior motives. I can’t trust that when someone puts their hand on my shoulder, my neck, my back, my leg, that they aren’t going to take more than they should. Especially knowing that I don’t know how to defend myself. So I don’t date.
My whole life has become an over-correction to the events in my past. I’m neurotic and uptight because my past was the complete opposite.
I have to let you in on a secret. As I was writing this, I had added so much more detail about what I had gone through. But I decided that I wasn’t ready to divulge that information. Nor was I ready to have it on this blog. Maybe it never will be. I’m starting to wonder why I even felt compelled to talk about the reality to begin with. The events, as important as they are, are not applicable to this project. Only my reactions are. As much as I am struggling to explain why I am the way I am, I don’t have to justify it with my reality. People can either believe me or don’t. Only I can make the true judgment call.
It’s time I learn to let go. I need to let go of the past, because it’s not helping my future. It’s what is holding me back from loving myself. It’s hindering my appreciation for my true talents. I don’t want to be defined by my past. Am I ready to move on?
I love you all,
Mary Jane xx
- Came to terms with not needing to justify my actions
- Considering going to the movies (by myself!)