When You Roar and it Comes Out as.... Meow

There are a lot of things that I am still learning about myself and my place in this world. Especially about my place when it comes to the people in my life.

I have a love/hate relationship with people.

On the one hand, I love that people enrich and fulfill my life. I love that every individual brings their own unique perspective and experiences to the table. I love that I can learn something new from the people that I allow into my life. I love that I can smile and laugh and share things with people.

On the other hand, I hate that people are unpredictable and uncertain. I hate that I cannot see inside the little black box of the minds of everyone in my life. I hate that I cannot be everything that I want to be to everyone. I hate that I will always let people down. I hate that people will always let me down. I hate that I can cry and gasp for air and ache for people.

I am constantly warring with myself over this dilemma. I do not discriminate based on the status of the relationship. I fret over my relationships with: friends, classmates, lovers, exes, family, hairdressers, old flames, people at the grocery store, my professors, my therapists, and well... everyone that I interact with to be completely honest.

What about?

Well, I am somewhat certain and somewhat confused. I know that I constantly wonder whether or not I should be sincere or be what I think they want or be on auto-pilot. I desperately want to be sincere. However, I still don't quite know what that is. I know better at this juncture in my life than I ever have before. Yet, I am still running headlong into my own misconceptions about myself and others. It is somewhat safer for me to be on auto-pilot. However, it feels cold and unsatisfying. Further, it leaves me with too much time in my own thoughts. It keeps me from being present. When it comes to being what I think that other people want me to be. Well, that ends up filling me with immeasurable amounts of doubt.

Balance and authenticity are a constant quest for me. I am still shedding the rough scales that I grew over the course of my life. I am still fighting the good fight. I am still trying so desperately to drop the things which have held me back. To come to grips with who I am.

Often times, that quest becomes sloppy and fumbling. It becomes frantic and confused. It is as though I begin to treat my life as a grand experiment to see how it will work out if I try option A and then option B and then vice versa. I become somewhat disconnected in these moments. I know that this seems counter intuitive. Yet, when I opt to take these difficult courses of action that will get me the answers which I feel that I so desperately need, then I tend to revert to this safe place until the shit stops flying. I sit back. I put myself behind the glass, so to speak. I become an observer of my life rather than a participant of it.

It is as though I am still trying to prove to myself that I can do things. That I am no longer paralyzed. I know that I am no longer that sobbing girl on the floor. I just feel as though I could become her again at any moment. That anything could come out of nowhere and knock me back a few years. It is completely irrational. However, I know that it is valid.

I don't like to admit it. I like to put on a front. I like to wear a happy face and pull my shoulders back. I like to stand tall and "fake it till I make it". Yet, the truth is that I am a very battered woman. I am damaged. I am torn and faded and cracked and covered in scales and armor. My ears are constantly pricked, my eyes are always pealed, I am constantly on the balls of my feet and ready to run at the slightest indication of a threat. The hair on the back of my neck will prickle at any sign of emotional, psychological, or physical injury. I will bear my teeth and I will hiss. I will dare anyone to continue to love me.

I will show my own insecurities and my inner turmoil. I will try to roar and demonstrate my strength. Unfortunately, it is all a show and I really jut want to run under the couch and meow until someone picks me up and scratches me behind the ears.

It is pathetic.


I look in the mirror and I see: brains, beauty, determination, strength, heart, courage, and sheer stupidity. The reality is that I don't ever want to believe that I am better than anyone else. To ever contemplate the idea makes me feel queasy. I am not smarter. I am just good at tests. I am not more beautiful. I just have different features. I am not more determined. I am just ready. I am not stronger. I am just more seasoned. I don't love more. I just try to. I am not more courageous. I am just better at faking it. I am pretty god damned stupid, though.

I am afraid of allowing myself to accept that image in the mirror because I don't want it to get torn down. This way, when I get rejected, it is anticipated. Why wouldn't I be rejected? I am no better than anyone else. There are plenty of other options.

This inner turmoil has an obvious impact on my relationships. There are those few friends who have hung around long enough to understand. To recognize the totality of the situation. To pat me on the back when they see me doing the little things that they know are hard for me. Well, really there are only one or two of them. Unfortunately, the majority of people become just as confused as I am.

Unlike me, they don't have to stay and sort it out. There is nothing binding anyone to me. In fact, nobody should be bound to me at this point. I can't even tolerate myself a lot of the time. Why in the hell would anyone else want to put up with it?


Well. I guess because I do my best to keep those insecurities on the down low and optimize my performance for others. I accept that I will probably never be satisfied with myself and decide to funnel my energies into others. It is easier to take on other people's problems than it is to confront your own.

The thing is that something has to give. I have to decide what is more important to me: safe solitude or risky camaraderie? Facing my own problems and overcoming them or continuing to ignore them and survive?

What are the real sources of those problems? Where do my insecurities come from? Why do I so desperately seek people out when I am bound and determined to keep them out?

I don't like blaming things on my mother. It seems like a fucking cop out. However, the reality is that the role of a parent is to be reliable, dependable, and to teach a child how to trust. I didn't get that from my parents. Don't get me wrong, my dad is a great guy. Unfortunately, he wasn't around very much during my formative years. My mother was. I haven't ever been able to truly trust anyone in my whole fucking life. Not a single person. I don't trust my dad, my sister, my friends, or my lovers (any of them at any point). The only person I trust is my daughter. That is only because she can't hurt me. That isn't a mature form of trust. That is simply a bond.

I have always felt isolated and alone. I don't know if that will ever change. I think that there is a chance. I think that I am determined to change it. I just have to actually have someone demonstrate to me that they are trustworthy. I have a couple of people that are trying to do that for me right now, I think.

I just have to wonder how long it will be before I try to roar at them, too? I have already roared at one of them. Interestingly enough, I don't regret it.

Not because I got what I was hoping for. Because I got what I thought I would get (to an extent). I got to confirm my fears. I got to learn that I was right about a few things. I also got to learn that I was wrong about a lot of things. I finally got someone to call my bluff.

To tell me no and yes at the same time. To walk over and scratch me behind the ears while they told me that I was going to have to sleep outside until I learned not to hiss. I didn't get kicked out the door. I also didn't get placated like a little child. I had someone tell me the truth. For once.

It is unsettling. To actually encounter someone who will tell me that they disagree with me and set boundaries without attempting to eliminate me. Someone who isn't a coward. I was not expecting it.

The thing is that I already know they won't last for the duration. Not just from them telling me. From my ability to gauge what it is that is best for them and what they want. It is only me, for now. Not because I am presenting a desirable situation. Only because I am intriguing and stimulating.

Should I say only?

I have never had anyone so accurately tell me what is wrong with me and then follow it up with a desire to be around me. Further, I have never had anyone make no demands on me other that I attempt to enjoy myself. As I elaborated on quite thoroughly in my last post.

I have a lot to learn. I have to decide if I am ready for that kind of a mind fuck or not. I have to decide if I am capable of settling back and allowing someone else to take the reigns away from me. In reality, I probably shouldn't even be steering a damn car, let alone a relationship.

I think that to be ready for that requires me to accept one thing. That I am good. That I am ok. That I am capable of keeping myself that way. That it isn't determined by anyone else.

I am capable of accepting that when nobody is involved. When it is just me. Yet, for whatever reason, I have a great deal of difficulty hanging onto that confidence once someone else has entered the picture. It has happened before.


I am still trying to put that little girl inside of me at ease. I am still trying to brush her hair out of her face and look her in the eyes to say "You will not only survive this day, my dear, you will thrive into the next".



She needs to hear it a lot. I can't say it enough, yet. I still feel so vulnerable in this life of mine. I know that I will be secure in my own means before I know it. Yet, I am still holding my breath for something to stop me.


Can I stand tall for real? Can I recognize the goodness of fit in boundaries? Can I acknowledge my own faults and work to rectify them without allowing it to spill over?


It is a tall order.


I have broad shoulders, pile it on.

Right?