Monday, April 26, 2004

I am a happy, mature, creative, successful (in the important ways) grown woman. Happily married, fairly secure in who I am, at the highest point of my life so far (and looking to go higher).

But sometimes.... sometimes, the teenager I once was sticks her head into my life. She reminds me that maybe I'm not as liked as I thought I was, and I get those feelings that I'm just here because no one's mother will let them be mean enough to get rid of me.

You know those feelings, right?

They pop up out when you least expect them. You can try to fight them off, but they sort of melt into the rest of your being for a time, so that even your arguments with them are weakened.

I suspect it began in Pilates. I do love Pilates - the physicality of it, forcing my muscles to do something so intense, but still feeling (most of the time) the graceful control I felt years ago as a dancer. The new sessions just began, and I was so happy to see my teacher again, who teases me for having "ballerina arms". There I am, stretching gently on my mat, and in she walks. Oh, it's been over ten years, and if I'm being honest, she was always fairly nice to me. But she was one of the popular girls at my high school, someone that wore the right things, and did the right activities, and dated the right guys, who the right teachers liked. I don't know if she even has any clue who I am now, nor should she. Nor should it matter, as I really am at a good place in my life. But suddenly my stomach was too big to do the Pilates moves just right, and my legs felt too heavy to lift that way, and my balance wasn't quite on to bend that way. I made it through class, unhappily, trying to remind myself that she cared very little about the amount of weight I'd gained, and after all, she had been friendly enough then, surely she's matured even more since high school?

But it was too late.

That insecurity had already permeated. Suddenly GB wasn't paying the right kind of attention to me. And a friend with whom I've been e-mailing frequently back and forth in the past few weeks must be mad at me.... nevermind that she's amazingly busy, and getting busier with a trip coming up this weekend. And WW isn't going as well as I'd like this week, and the women behind the counter must be judging me. And that friend? E-mails read, but not responded to.

She must hate me.

Oh, sure, logic says she's busy. And the WW women were perfectly friendly and supportive as always. GB is the peach he always is, now bending over backwards to try and figure out my non-descript mood. Work is improving, having been given more hours - the extra money will be very helpful! My knitting projects are coming together nicely. This Saturday is Maryland Sheep & Wool, where I will find the wheel of my dreams, and play with friends, and see amazing animals and beautiful yarns.

...But why isn't she writing me back?

I'm being childish, I know. I'm better than this. Yes, I know that too.

Except for now, maybe I'm not.


I shall be very happy when teenage me goes back to sleep, and grownup me can rear her comfortable head once again.

Thoughts for the Day:

Peter Steele - I had hit a critical period in my life, where I changed very much as a person. I consider the person I used to be, dead, and I'm glad that he is. Insecure, frightened, confused, much like a lot of people I know today.

Joyce Cary - For good and evil, man is a free creative spirit. This produces the very queer world we live in, a world in continuous creation and therefore continuous change and insecurity.


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