troubles melt like lemon drops

I am a fantastic liar. In part, it’s because I’m my mother’s daughter, this isn’t meant in an offensive tone and she would be the first to agree, but another is the obvious fact that I’m female. I’m not talking about my uncanny ability to simulate an entirely phony scenario but more the things I am convince myself of regularly. I don’t put my hereditary talent to use but for whatever reason without purpose my mind will develop a fabricated account of something. Hopefully there’s no judgment in this omission because if I can’t be honest here then I might as well not blog at all.

Aside from that fault, I think it’s something that as women we struggle with almost daily. Now there are exceptions to everything, though I don’t know any “real” ladies exempt of this. My friends all have their struggles, embarrassments, insecurities etc… I guess I choose to associate with people just as neurotic as I am. Ask me to make a list of my dislikes or flaws and I could fill a page effortlessly. This is not a moment of false humility and not a desperate attempt to fish for compliments…that is a pet peeve of mine by the way.

For whatever reason a falsehood that I have bought into, hook, line and sinker, is that I’m just not as congenial as I want to be, need to be. Sure there’s physical attributes I could criticize but the ones that critique my personality are the most offensive because in reality it’s unchanging. Anyway, last night I went to an event and I was skeptical about socializing with old coworkers. Well the most amazing thing happened; they were thrilled to see me. Genuinely. It felt good to be the reason for the excitement to re-establish relationships that have gone dormant. People were talking to me with such excitement and demanding I make plans to get together. Why was I so astonished? Why had I been so cautious?

It’s me; it’s all in my head. I may not be a social butterfly but I do make my own contributions and without arrogance think that I must bring some enjoyment but for whatever reason feel the need to critique myself. Taking so much pride in my independence I sometimes play it off like I don’t need these relationships as much as I really do. I’m certainly not the most popular but I do offer a “likability factor” to which I’ve always managed to make friends, once you get past any involuntary facial expression that may seem intimidating. I’ve never been the Serena van der Woodsen or Blair Waldorff though there are some eerie similarities I share with Queen B. For others too old for the reference I’d be Lisa Turtle not Kelly Kaposwki. Sorry to get all Sally Field “you like me, you really like me” and I really need to stop with the celebrity references, but I have a sense of relief.

It always seems like it’s something. ..When I was skinny, I was never skinny enough… funny enough, spiritual enough, successful enough, likable enough. I’d like to start appreciating myself more and others for that matter. A compliment from someone is just about the most naturally high for me. I find myself grinning hours afterwards, sometimes even days. I want to feel good about myself and I want others to experience that feeling as well. Self loathing and rejection are robbing me and I’m starting to realized even the little unconscious slips are just as dangerous as all out disgust. Kind of rambling but I wanted to share my struggle to find balance and peace. It’s been a grueling and long journey but I think I’m coming back to contentment.