Friday, 19 August 2016

Free Flow Friday: Judge Thee

I always saw myself as blue or green....oooo, a nice teal would so be me.  I never expected orange.  It doesn't even have a rhyming word.  I don't even know if I own anything orange.  See, this is my problem...I cannot just say, "yes, I am bright orange and all the good stuff about me is true." I don't like orange, well except the fruit, so therefore it is something bad.  No, I must dissect and analyze.  When I hear I compliments I make an excuse why it is fluke. No, it's not that people trust me it's just that I'm there when they need to talk.  It's not humility as much as disbelief.

I miss the 5 year old (and younger) me.  The fearless I am the "queen" of the playhouse me.  Every day in kindergarten I would go to the playhouse for playtime.  I would direct everyone on how to play "house" properly.  And, oddly people complied.  I sounded like I knew my shit.  At times that part does come out but not as often as I would wish it would.  It's like if I need that part to come out I have to "act" like that person rather than just, ta-da, I am confident and wise.

On any given day you can wear the same same outfit all day long and be in the same mood with five different people and be described in five various ways.  Looking at myself through my Bibi's eyes I see that I am a lovable can-do-no-wrong (except stay single...that is very wrong) ball of awesomeness.  In my mother's eyes I am a miracle so while she loves me to bits and would never trade me in for anyone else, she does wish I was skinnier, more successful, and married with kids.  My cousin who's trade is in beauty sees me as just as pretty as any actress, and brilliant.  In a former manager I remember seeing that I was mess when it came to emotions - my own and being to kind to those under my supervision.  When my ex looked at me I felt beautiful, smart and very funny until I wasn't anymore.  In the boyfriend's eyes I see myself as smart but unsuccessful, cute but has potential for more once I lose weight and crazy as Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

Would it surprise you that I was extremely thin as a child? I stopped eating because I couldn't eat.  Now it makes sense that it was due to my anxiety, but at that time it was diagnosed.  You could see how the bones in my kneecaps worked.  I was called bony, and had battles at the dinner table.  I think of it as one of my worst times. Would it surprise you to know I was scouted in a mall to be a model when I was a skeleton?  I had the "look" - thin, eyes, cheekbones and "exotic" look.  They wanted to pay for my lessons and everything.  Being a bit more fearless at that time, I said "I want to be an actress, please." Suffice to say I did neither.

I hit puberty and well, goodbye undershirt and hello B-size bra.  Since then, age 12, I have been dieting and exercising in some way - on and off.  I have always believed, though never vocalized, that being thinner would make my life better. I would be thinner which would make me prettier...I would look better in my clothes and I would be into clothes instead of books.  Not sticking my nose in a book would mean I would go to parties, hang with popular girls, have guys want me...which would lead me to a better job, a husband and children.  Right?  It makes sense.  Thin means happy.  Sometimes I think I am so weird to compensate

At 13 I was listening to opera and the symphony on CBC Radio while reading a book.  I would write short stories, plays, and poems while acting out the scenes in my room.  At 16 while most girls had celebrities of the month on their wall I had Marlon Brando.  I didn't even like Marilyn Monroe because it was cool, but because I understand her childhood and how she evolved fascinated the writer and psych major in me.   On my nightstand, besides the boyfriend's picture, is my copy of the complete Shakespeare.  I bought it when I was 14 from London Drugs and I keep it there in case I had a panic attack and need to calm down.  I can go in front of a crowd and talk about whatever, but the thought of going to a small party and making small talk freaks me out.

And when I freak out it means I am scared or frustrated so I get a bit angry too fast.  I also forget what I am angry about just as quickly.  But I can say things in the heat of the moment I should have kept inside.  Not so much to hurt the person but because my mind gets clouded and my filter vanishes.  My anxiety issue - well that's a big problem in it's self.  Who wants to be friends or dating someone who has eccentricities. Driving and parking make me nervous.  So I will often say no to things I do want to do, but don't want to bother anyone asking for a ride or direct directions.  Sometimes the world becomes too big and I can't go out because it feels like my skin is burning.  I am bad at asking for help.  I always feel like I am bothering someone or in someone's way.  I will just figure it out myself...or not.  As you already guessed, I have a control problem - things in their place, a way to do things and follow the rules.  Uggggh, my worse trait... I cannot stand purposely slow or lazy people.  I also cannot control my face at times.  I also have a habit of over-smiling and being too comes off patronizing to some.  I talk weird...and I have to swear on purpose as I don't really swear.  Fine, since I am bearing all...I am a prude.  I skip over the sex scenes in books (except Forever as that was my first sex scene and I was very curious as to what was going on) and HBO shows.  I don't like to discuss personal sex stuff but also am too scared to stop anyone else.  I would like to think I am an adventuress person - but I believe in the hokey one person forever thing.  While I never judge anyone else on anything...I judge myself harshly on what is proper and not.

I know some people judge the boyfriend harshly about being disappointed with my weight.  I was skinnier when we met, and now look like I am pregnant and showing.  After dating for a bit I realized he like skinny girls that wear a lot of make up and look gorgeous at all times.  And, why shouldn't he.  He's handsome and he should pick his type.  I just wish I knew that earlier.  If you judge him, you have to judge me too.  Right at the beginning, because I'd rather just tell the bad stuff first, I told him what I was looking for in a partner.  I wanted someone who lived on their own, and never planned to live with their parents.  Obviously that is cutting out a lot of my Indian background.  While I have been on dates with Indian guys I have only been in relationships with non-Indian men.  I have a type as well.  And, what we are arguing about right now is the issue of him still living with his mom.  So if I judge him on that, fair is fair.   And, he has the right to want better if he chooses, especially if the person he is with thinks he can do better too.

I am sure I had some point with this free flow but have veered off, lol.  I guess it comes to down what you need to so you can get up every morning with some glee.  And, yes this piece is an offering in place of a book review.  This heat is driving me to just waste my time on the computer.  Going to go read some now...

k (My Novelesque Life)

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