If only I were pretty enough....
I'm sitting in Midway airport, and I see this woman and her husband and her 3 teen-age sons. And I think "that could have been me...if I were as pretty as she is...."
Then I thought to myself, "Whether I'm pretty enough doesn't matter. That's my mother's thinking...."
And I still can't believe how much of her negativity is still so embedded in me--like a bullet that could be removed if someone could figure out how to do it without killing me. Everything was about looks--how pretty or not pretty. "Luck" was a matter of pretty, and if you lost pretty, you lost your luck.
Guess what. I'm not pretty any more. Guess I'm doomed.
I have always, my whole life, felt unlovable--and always unable to feel or understand love. I worry about love. I fear that when someone loves me, all they want is to trap me into what is best for them, not what is best for me.
I panic when someone loves me. I want to get away from them as quick as I can.
Yet, I want to be loved and to love others, to have family and friends and all the good things that make up life.
Not to sit outside, staring at life from behind a window...
Always, I go back to my mother's repeated telling of The Little Match Girl--of the child left outside to sell matches, to freeze to death on New Year's Eve, to be taken to Heaven by the angels.
My mother's favorite Christmas story. Because the child left outside is take to another world when this world completely and utterly rejects her.
I hope they don't tell that story any more.
Every day I wake up feeling so sad, so much like I've lost everything, that I can't have things that others have, that something's terribly wrong that I cannot fix. I really don't know how long I can stand waking up every day, feeling like this, having no solution or resolution to these feelings. For years I kept ahead of them, amusing myself in many ways, thinking about other things. But after awhile, my imagination died, and the parties were over and there was nothing left but me.
In the end, it's always just you.
I wonder how I'm going to deal with these feelings--and how I'm going to resolve them. It feels as if there may be no resolution.
ultimately, I don't know what to do, how to handle this. I simply do not know.
Then I thought to myself, "Whether I'm pretty enough doesn't matter. That's my mother's thinking...."
And I still can't believe how much of her negativity is still so embedded in me--like a bullet that could be removed if someone could figure out how to do it without killing me. Everything was about looks--how pretty or not pretty. "Luck" was a matter of pretty, and if you lost pretty, you lost your luck.
Guess what. I'm not pretty any more. Guess I'm doomed.
I have always, my whole life, felt unlovable--and always unable to feel or understand love. I worry about love. I fear that when someone loves me, all they want is to trap me into what is best for them, not what is best for me.
I panic when someone loves me. I want to get away from them as quick as I can.
Yet, I want to be loved and to love others, to have family and friends and all the good things that make up life.
Not to sit outside, staring at life from behind a window...
Always, I go back to my mother's repeated telling of The Little Match Girl--of the child left outside to sell matches, to freeze to death on New Year's Eve, to be taken to Heaven by the angels.
My mother's favorite Christmas story. Because the child left outside is take to another world when this world completely and utterly rejects her.
I hope they don't tell that story any more.
Every day I wake up feeling so sad, so much like I've lost everything, that I can't have things that others have, that something's terribly wrong that I cannot fix. I really don't know how long I can stand waking up every day, feeling like this, having no solution or resolution to these feelings. For years I kept ahead of them, amusing myself in many ways, thinking about other things. But after awhile, my imagination died, and the parties were over and there was nothing left but me.
In the end, it's always just you.
I wonder how I'm going to deal with these feelings--and how I'm going to resolve them. It feels as if there may be no resolution.
ultimately, I don't know what to do, how to handle this. I simply do not know.
posted by Tish Grier at 1:19 PM
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