Uhm, what?

Around 1:30pm today, I was worried. I hadn’t gone to the gym. I guess I had forgotten…, but how did that happen, I wondered? I thought back to when I went to bed last night, and how I got up this morning… and just a sec.. I did go to the gym this morning… What??

Yes, I had gone to the gym this morning. But so much had happened since then, I had felt like it was a totally different day already – the gym felt so, so long ago already. Bizarre, of course, but phew! I was worried there for a minute or two.

I was still restful today, but differently. I did accomplish a bit of the laundry this evening, which was a good start. Now I just need to progress tomorrow or Wednesday – going to help pack up at my grandma’s house out of town tomorrow. I managed important tutoring stuff this morning, providing help on literary analysis essays. I went to a stage production of Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory” with my mom at noon. It was great acting, to be sure, and we both enjoyed the little production and seeing a new stage. Though, I was exhausted and my eyes were closing a bunch throughout the show. Yes, I absolutely followed the whole thing, but my eyes definitely did not see the whole thing.

I can home and took a nap after the show, as I was so tired, and then went for my laser hair removal session. I had purchased what is called a Brazilian extension/extended area package. Aka -****Warning for real-body language coming up here**** – the labia, the anus, and the inner edges of the buttocks. However, I didn’t know about the labia part when I first got the package. By the time I tested how things felt and worked up the courage for myself, I had them start doing the labia, too. I’ve finished with all the rest of the lasering of hair, but now am making up for the lost time/sessions on the labia. It was really hard for me to say the words or loud for this, and I still am working on it, but I have improved much in my confidence, willingness, and comfort with the conversation and words, and I am grateful. The fact that I am writing this with real words at all speaks volumes to my improvement.

Anyway, I’m planning on a Secret Santa gift for a coworker. She likes Pocky and Anime, among other things. We have a $10 limit. So, I got her a Costco package of Pocky for $9, and am writing out three sheets of calligraphy for her in Japanese. One will be the name of our company in Japanese, one will be her name correctly written in Japanese, both of those using the foreign words alphabet, and one will be kanji of her name in Japanese (the Chinese characters that have the same pronunciation as her name in Japanese, and give a new meaning to her name with each character’s individual meaning). My mom and I both think she’ll enjoy it all, especially since she’s a huge anime fan. Usually, that spans a broad spectrum of just about anything tied to Japan and Japanese language. I hope she really enjoys them all. I know I would love such a gift! … Speaking of which, I wish I had people who thought out and planned it things like this for me more in my life. I love planning and plotting and, finally, giving gifts to people. But I sometimes end up just a little bit sad afterward, because almost no one ever does anything similar for me. Just my mom, really.

Anyway, in that somewhat sad note, I shall sign off for the night. I think I need to allow myself to experience this sadness, in order to allow it to be heard, at last, and to set it free. So, I shall sleep from here and feel the sad if no special presents for right now.

P.S. My mom and I celebrated Hl. Nikolaus day today together. We both brought each other things that had been ‘left’ with shoes in our own houses for each other. It was absolutely silly, but quite wonderful. I always loved December sixth as a child, and I’m glad I get to love it again. Last year, he brought me all the fixings for and a sewing machine itself. This year, he brought me spices, sweets, heart-shaped agates and stones, and some of the greatest leggings ever. I am quite grateful!

Post-a-day 2021

Perfection

Yup. Everything is perfect exactly when and how it is. We get exactly what we need when we need it, and we end up exactly where we need to be exactly when we need to be there.

This morning, I got myself to open gym before having to go in to work. I was mostly on my own at the gym, with only the owner and a private training session guy there when I arrived (and the owner’s dog, of course). The music was great and jamming and chill, and the workout was up on the screen, so I happily got to work. I knew I couldn’t do the whole workout, but I was fine with that. I did the fastest 5k of my life yesterday morning, so I was okay regarding cardio. And I had to go straight to work, so I didn’t want to get super sweaty, anyway. Just doing the weightlifting part of the workout would be fine. If I could also do the abs closer, that would be great, too. (It didn’t happen, by the way, the abs part, due to timing.) The sun was shining, it was 8:30-ish (which is way later than my usual exercise), the dog was napping in the sunlight, and we all were enjoying the fresh, crisp air of the morning. People had been walking past the open gym door since I’d arrived, so I’d only partly paid attention to them after the first few times. However, one of the passers-by seems to be coming inside. As I turn and look directly at him, my brain takes a few moments to process what I actually am seeing, whom I am seeing.

He had said he was out of town until Sunday, but that he would be at the gym Monday morning. However, he had been saying that he would be at the gym many times in the past several weeks, though he’d made it only to four or five workouts in the past two months… I was beginning to give up on him. But I had checked in on Tuesday just to see what his deal was. He had told me he was in Austin until Sunday. And yet here he was, on Friday morning, walking in to open gym.

I tell you, when my brain fully grasped whom I was seeing, my stomach – and deeper – somersaulted and shivered. My face had a massive smile, and I know my whole being lit up. For both his benefit and my own, I was glad that he was here in the gym. We hadn’t seen each other in what felt like far too long. I had been missing him. We hugged intensely, and I didn’t want to let him go. It felt to be a mutual desire.

Later, as I was passing by him to get to the rings, as I always do with my touch-y self, I gently placed my hand on his shoulder when I passed. He was sitting on a lifting bench, facing me, and ever so slightly raised his hand in response, just grazing the back of my thigh. It wasn’t sexual, no. It was just intimate, in a loving way. For whatever reason, almost since I first met him, I’ve just wanted to hold him and be held by him. Today, in its odd little way, the Universe gave me a taste of that. My morning and day were already set as wonderful today. But that little bit of his showing up and our hugs and gentle loving touches, that set a golden edge to all of it, giving me a certain satisfaction that I rarely have these days. It was perfect, really.

And then, at work, just the perfect person showed up, someone massively important to me from my childhood. We had an unexpected few-minute emotional and powerful conversation, complete with tears and hugs, and tentatively planned to spend real time together in the near-ish future.

Also, the taco someone ordered for me was spectacular and within my dietary desires.

And work felt easy today, on so many levels.

And, leaving work, I walked with a new girl who seemed neat. Turns out, she’s half French, and we spent most of our walk in French together.

And all of that only went to 3:30pm today… It was just an amazing kind of day today, just what I needed in so many ways, and I am grateful. Thank you, God and the Universe, for such love as I felt and experienced today. Thank you.

Peace

Post-a-day 2021

Turkey Day, run away

Today, we ran the Turkey Trot, my mom, folks from my gym, and I. A handful of them ran the 10k, and another handful and my mom and I ran the 5k. I surprised myself.

Of course, it was pouring rain off and on for the start of both runs, but cleared up fully just as the 5k started (at least, until an hour and a half later, when it wasn’t too relevant anymore). I had my running rain jacket on until the start of our run, at which point, as the skies looked clear and the rain had stopped, I tied it around my waist. An annoying appendage for a whole 5k, but it was worth it for keeping my body and hair and clothes mostly dry before the run.

My shoes ended up soaked, but not until about a third of the way into the run.

I pushed myself, and very much so. I have not trained with running, of course, so I had no idea how fast I could go. My ankle bone was out of place only five weeks ago, and has felt still a bit wonky this past month, so I haven’t really been running even in the workouts at the gym lately, and those are just 200-800m runs. And yet, here I was, prepared to walk, if at any point my foot/ankle needed it, running a 5k and giving it my best.

At just about halfway, one of the girls from my gym popped up next to me, calling me a smokes something or other. I, too, had expected her to be far ahead of me, and I had been keeping an eye out ahead for her, just in case I might be able to catch up to her. But she had been behind me for the first mile and a half. From then onward, though, we ran together. Apparently, my presence alone pushed her. Her pace thereby challenged me. And I, even aloud, gave a, “F***ing S—-,” in regards to our gym owner and programmer. He makes some amazing get amazingly challenging programming, and he is always challenging us to push ourselves. Always safely, but truly. And this morning, he was stuck in my head. I felt like a little kid who wanted to make his teacher proud, planning to tell him just how much I had stayed on top of myself to keep it up, lift up my legs more, take longer strides, breathe deeply, and crush it.

And, in multiple ways, I did. He always says that, it we’re throwing up, we’re doing it wrong. So, I limited myself there this morning – I was getting very close to my body’s demanding a vomit, and so shared that with the girl, just to let her know that I might not be able to stay with her. I only got a few meters behind her on the final quarter-mile stretch, finishing only a couple seconds after she finished (which, oddly, was finishing my race a few seconds faster than she had hers, as I began behind her at the start). Regarding results, I looked it up. Had I done the timed race, I would have been ninth in my gender-age category. And that is really cool. What’s most important to me about it all is that, by pushing myself and keeping on top of it and letting go over and over and over again if my mental strains, I ended up getting, without any running practice in the recent past, my fastest 5k time ever. And my EVEN 8:20 splits (8:21, 8:29, and 8:23 to be exact) we’re not only the fastest I’ve gone on a 5k, but the second fastest mile time I’ve had period.

Basically, it was really cool.

After the run, I grabbed some cookies and bananas, and rushed to the kids’ 1k run to see my nephew and nieces finish their run (if they were even there, which they turned out to be, since the rain had cleared up). I didn’t see them run, but I did see them all just after they crossed the finish line, and the point was for them to feel supported, which they did. So, when, upon surprising them with my presence, I congratulated them and offered them cookies and then a banana, too, I think their days were made.

Anyway, the whole affair certainly made my day. And running into two of my old students made it extra-special. My legs are sore, especially my lower thighs. They can really feel my lack of running, I suppose, though they were clearly able to take it, thanks to all the programming at our gym. Hopefully, they’ll feel okay tomorrow!

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving, folks. I grateful for all, and I send out my love to you, whoever you are, whenever and wherever you are. May God continue to bless us all. Amen.

P.S. On the dating app, sometimes guys say that their personal hell is families who do 5ks on holidays. I suppose one for me would be families who don’t. I am grateful for my blood family and my gym family. We were a dream team this morning, k-ing on a holiday, even in the pouring rain. Thank you, God, for these families of mine.

Post-a-day 2021

Gym

Remember how I mentioned that Katy Perry song last night, “Teenage Dream”? Well, guess what song played at the gym this morning! It was so fun to have that happen, especially considering how that song does not usually play at the gym – nothing of its genre, even. So, that was a delightful start to the day for me.

However, speaking of the gym, I totally cried during the workout today. We were doing these deltoid press-downs with stretchy bands looped over the pull-up bars. I had attempted my left arm first. I always ask which muscles are managing movements (if I am not already sure), so that I can do the movement correctly and at all. (I’ve definitely been unable to do something simply because I was using, say, my arm muscles, when it should have been shoulder and back muscles, and then it totally worked when I got the right muscle group going.)

But something just didn’t click for me this morning – I couldn’t make the band go down. As soon as I hit the point of the band’s genuine resistance, I just could not make it go any farther. And yet, that was hardly half the distance to my body. I looked around, and saw everyone else doing it with somewhat ease. I took a step closer to the bar, to lessen the tension on the band. And then another. And I still couldn’t get my arm all the way down to my body, as we were supposed to be doing – as everyone else was doing. I was bordering on tears… from embarrassment, perhaps? I was also quite low on my sleep from the past couple nights – nightmares had plagued Sunday night, giving me minimal rest then, and last night hadn’t been much more restful, though the nightmares had mostly all gone.

The coach saw me and told me to move away from the bar. I moved a bit, and he said with more emphasis and volume for me to move, suggesting that I needed to take a huge step away. And I did, but I was beginning to panic. It is not a comfortable feeling when the body does not do as we wish it to do for something that it, by all means, ought to be able to do. Nor is it comfortable to feel oneself beginning to cry over such a simple little movement in a gym workout.

But I reminded myself that I was behind on sleep, which always seems to affect my ability to remain calm and not crying in situations. And so, I struggled and mostly failed, and then switched to the right arm, just to see if it would be any different. The band went right down. It was easy like how I had seen everyone else doing it… So something is wrong with my left side, I thought. Even more stress.

I moved on to the other activity for that round, and aimed to take a mental breather from the fact that I was supposed to do that four more rounds, and yet I hadn’t even been able to do it one time out of the 20 repetitions with my left side.

When I returned for the start of my second round, I tried again, aiming truly to figure out if there were a way that I could do it, despite my body’s not being able to do it fully as intended. A modification would be fine, if I could find one. The coach saw me again, standing too close to the bar as I attempting the modification. The earlier process had repeated, and the taunting tears from before no longer taunted, but fell forth. He was immediately in front of me, standing very close, talking calmly and gently to me, asking me what was going on, what was happening in that moment. I told him that – after a solid ten seconds of being unable to speak, for my tears – I was frustrated because I couldn’t do it. He evaluated, looking to the bar where I was, and the bar I had used the first round. This one was higher, which increased the tension, he pointed out. And I said I hadn’t been able to do it before either. The bands, too, were new, and so were harder to use than the ones we had had until recently. I told him that it was just my left side that I just couldn’t seem to make do the movement. He aligned everything for me, adjusting exactly the angle of my arm and elbow, and altering my handhold to decrease resistance.

And then I did it. I was still crying and, even, shaking, somewhat, but now there was relief in my tears, not merely stress and embarrassment. And I did it again. And I kept going. I nodded, making it clear that I was okay to continue on my own now. Before he walked away, he said to me, “You don’t need to be frustrated. You’re doing f***ing pull-ups,” and it made me laugh through my tears. He was right, after all. I was crying from stress at a tiny movement that I hadn’t been able to do, thinking I was too weak – I could do it, now that he had helped me figure it out, so it hadn’t been that I was too weak at all. And yet, after the workout today, I did three pull-ups, and attempted a fourth five or so times (making it about 90-95% of the way up each time on that fourth), wanting to get in one more than I had done after yesterday’s workout. I most certainly was not too weak.

I took one deep breathe, let it go, and I was breathing fully and easily again. I’m sure my face and eyes were still rather cry-looking for a while after that, but everyone was busy working, so I doubt anyone else even noticed. By the time I started the next round, which I was able to do with ease – relative ease, that it, as it was still hard work, but I could do that hard work now – I was fully calm and focused. While doing my left side, the coach caught my eye from across the room and gave me a visual clapping with his hands (because it was meant to be seen and not heard – there was loud music playing, after all).

I smiled sheepishly, but with immense gratitude. He is always there to encourage us to push ourselves beyond mental barriers (But he is extremely careful to keep us always safe, especially regarding physical abilities. Once, he told me, after I had cried at some back squats, never to do something that actually scared me or made me uncomfortable, where I didn’t feel safe doing it. He wants us safe, but not lazy cowards. That’s why he pushes us.), but, if ever his push of encouragement does not land as intended, he is at our side to help us how specifically we need in that moment. There was no hesitation when I started crying this morning – he saw that something was not okay for me, and his full focus was on helping me clear up whatever it was. And he did exactly that. And today was just one of the many reasons that I love this gym and its owner (today’s coach). Both because of the ridiculous song choices for the morning and for his clear love and care for me when I hit a roadblock.

Post-a-day 2021

Saturday morning shows?

Saturday morning. Sleep in. Relax. Restore.

And then go to the gym, right? 😛

When I first joined the gym, I rarely made it to the Saturday workout, because it was at 9am. I was not a morning person. Period. Even as a child, I missed all the best Saturday morning cartoons, because I was, as my sister said, “a sleeper”. When I joined the gym, I was also deemed by the owner to be “a nooner”. And, when I walked into that noon class each day, I had only just woken up to an alarm maybe an hour earlier. For most of my life, the opportunity to sleep in usually meant I would sleep until close to noon, if not later. And that’s even if I went to bed at ten-ish the night before. At some point last year, all that shifted, my body determined that 4:00 was a good time to awaken – and that is AM – and I went ahead and adjusted my life to fit it. Now, I usually wake up before my 4:20am alarm, I go easily and gladly to the 5:15am workout, and I go to bed around 8:30-9:00pm each night. Sure, there are days that go longer than others, but I usually end up waking up at the same time, anyway, the next morning.

That being said, nowadays, when I am considering attending the Saturday workout, I just sleep on in, and then decide when I get up if I want to go. And I can do that, because sleeping in means sleeping until roughly 6:00 or so most Saturdays. If I stay up late Friday night, and I’ve been up late other nights in the given week, too, I might even sleep until around 8:00am. But that one is more rare.

In addition, there is now a 10:00am weightlifting class, which is specifically focused on building strength and on improving aesthetics. I have been purposely aiming to increase my strength…, and my physical aesthetic lately, so… I dare say that it is a class I could appreciate greatly.

Basically, that means I love my Saturday mornings now, more than ever. But not a lot of people attend the lift class. They prefer the cardio-strong class at 9am still. I don’t mind that class, but it isn’t a good idea to do both – not at this point in my body’s path, anyway – so I have to pick one. Of course, I pick the lift one. Strength is my current weakness, after all. Who else tends to do the lift class? Take the stereotype on this one, folks: men.

And so, how did I spend my Saturday morning today? I slept in (which felt amazing), and then I went to the gym for an awesome workout, which I did while being surrounded by five ridiculously fit guys who also were workout out. And most of us were shirtless…. talk about glorious, gleaming abs and muscles... Whew!

So, can a Saturday morning get much better than that? 😛

Post-a-day 2021

^Man! I hesitated.

Today’s date

I went on a date today. And I knew about it. I even partly (slash mostly) asked him out. It was very cool and super serendipitous and all.

I had met him at the gym, actually – perfect place, in my opinion! – but had a weird feeling a couple days ago that I was going to find him on this dating app I had (but wasn’t exactly using anymore). The likelihood stood out clearly to me, mathematically speaking, of course. However, I have been working on slowing such feelings to guide me. And so, I gave it, perhaps, a minute of my time one day, and about thirty seconds the next. This morning, when I thought about it – and it was for a while that I considered it – it felt that either it was going to happen today or not at all. That was it. And so, I was nervous to look on the app, and, therefore, just thought about it a good long while. Finally, though, when my official activities for the day had all ended, and earlier than had been scheduled, I said it, “Either it is going to happen now or not at all.”

I opened the application. Swipe once to deny. Swipe twice. Swipe thrice.

And there he was.

Staring back at me from a photo I had just the other day seen was that guy from the gym. (I had seen his Instagram, but had only minimally perused, as I was finding that I might genuinely be interested in pursuing some sort of relationship with this guy.)

I yelled out loud. “I knew it!” I declared on repeat a few times. I had been lying on my belly on the floor, and had almost immediately dropped my phone and began rolling around and banging my feet on the floor in childlike delight.

“Aaaaah! I knew it! Yay! Thank you! Aaah!”

Once I got that out of my system, I took some action. I took a screenshot of his profile, and asked him in an Instagram direct message if he was ready (after text-shouting his name at him, and he had replied in kind). It suddenly occurred to me that I might Lose the profile, by leaving the app for too long. So, I quickly returned and swiped right. No matter what happened, it was fun to do so, and everything would be fine, even if he totally denied me. And, if he didn’t, all the better.

I switched back over to the Instagram messages and waited mere seconds before he replied, “Yes.” It seemed an odd response to my semi-surprise-attack and just asking if he was ready. Ready for what? He had no idea. Did he? No. It had only been thirty seconds since I’d swiped his profile.

I sent him the screenshot.

Within another thirty seconds, he replied.

Haha. I saw that.

Check it.

I’m sorry… what???

It took me a moment to realize that he wasn’t just saying a confirmation statement, like Word or, though I very much dislike it, Bet. He actually meant for me to check the app, the dating app.

I had received no notification, not even within the app. But, sure enough, when I clicked on the ‘matches’ section, his face was up there, matched.

And then, a couple hours later, we were together, talking and walking and sitting in the park, enjoying the amazing weather and one another’s company.

I had a really great time with him.

Near the end, I found myself stressing a bit. I don’t date. And I don’t do uncertainty very well. And I have a tendency to believe that others do not like me, and regularly dislike me. But, assuming we do do it again, as he said he wanted to do (and he confirmed that he meant it), I just need to get clear on all of that for myself ahead of time. My experiences of the past need not have influence over this opportunity facing me now. This man – this very sweet, slightly dorky, comfortable man – is not any of those people who have rejected me in the past, be it as a friend or as a romantic partner. He is his own person, and the relationship that he has with me and that I have with him is unique and free from any past rejection I have experienced from others.

Yeah… 🙂

How odd a day, though… I start out the morning mentioning to my dad that I was abused in college, and how it had affected my personal physical fitness until recently, and then I end up on a date that goes well past my usual bedtime. I emphasized to my dad that I truly am okay and that I am doing very well and am free from that abuse now, and he got it, he heard me. But I saw the hurt in his eyes for his daughter, the pain he only then was experiencing for something long-past, and also the relief that it all was completed and resolved for me and my life – that I was hurting no longer from it all.

We had a really great breakfast together, and that was only a small part of it.

Anyway, went a bit tangential there… back to focus!

I started the day there, had a midday rejection from someone whom I had wanted to be my friend – and it was a weird rejection, too; my mom agreed with me on that… it was so odd. But we both agreed that life takes care of us, and that rejection happened because that person is not someone who needs to be in my life right now. After that, I called to find out if someone important to me was, in fact, being held at a certain detention facility (he was not, as it turns out). Never done that before, but now I have. Had a video call to go over a Spanish cheat-sheet thing I developed for my part-time job’s employees who do not speak Spanish but sometimes need to interact with guests who speak Spanish (and the meeting went awesomely). Then picked up a key for some spontaneous house-sitting I’m doing tomorrow. Then, as I sat down to do whatever delights arose next, I said my statement about the now or never, and found the gym guy, and ended up on a date shortly thereafter.

It was a crazy and awesome day, really.

My one genuine concern about the guy, though, is that I noticed today how desperately starved for physical touch I am, and I worry that could get in the way, and possibly cloud my judgement. Plus, it could make me get all weird. What it feels I want more than anything right now is just to be held. And hard. I just want to be pressed against a warm body and held tightly, firmly, lovingly, with care. My whole being wants that.

And I don’t want that to have me express misplaced interest in this guy. So, I don’t know that I am fully interested in him, or if his interest in me has my skin aching more than ever to be held and touched. (And I don’t even mean this sexually. My brain cannot even get there, it has been so focused on that my body might have found someone to hold it.)

That being said, I don’t like most people touching me, really, especially not so intimately as holding me would be. So, I feel like that alone speaks volumes to my potential interest in this guy as a companion/partner. Plus – and this is not to be mean or superficial, but merely to state what’s so – he is not super physically fit, and he is not too near the bodies that typically attract me. My attraction to this guy truly was all about him and who he is as a person, fitness and sexiness aside. Sure, if he sticks it out at our gym, he will be extremely fit and ultra sexy in that fitness. But, for the moment, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, in some way or other, since he first smiled at me. I don’t have that feral desire to rip his clothes off. I just want to be near him, with him, held by him. I want to talk and snuggle and take a nap with him…

I want to push him over when I walk past him at the gym, and he’s about to pick up a barbell. (I joked the other day about how I had had a sudden urge to do that to him when I’d passed by, and he had said that I should have done it.)

(Also, I’m ovulating right now. Only the truly great ones pass that test… just something to keep in mind.)

He held my hand briefly tonight. I don’t know why it was only briefly. Possibly because I spoke my mind about noticing how starved I was for physical touch from this past year, and that I felt like I might cry, it felt so wonderful to have some. Possibly because our hands were starting to sweat, and I had already talked about my distaste for dirty whenever I am clean. I’m hoping it was more the latter. Frankly, I was just thinking yesterday how one of the things I missed about dance was that I didn’t get to have the occasionally slightly-sweaty hand grips with certain people when dancing… that warmth and sweat today was perfect as far as I was concerned. It was just what I’d needed.

Anyway… that was a bit muddled, but I think it still communicated well enough. Mostly, I think I like this guy a lot as a person. My being seems to trust him so much, it wants to be near him, with him. We’ll see how my mind does. Hopefully, it can stay true to itself and not go nuts in panic or anything.

I usually ask permission to touch someone new in my life – physical boundaries are extremely important to me to respect. He was looking up a smoothie place on his phone, and I was looking on with him. I asked if I could touch him – yes, I had already explained that I am touchy and that the permission is important to me – and he told me I could. I leaned gently into his arm, and hooked mine around his. When I leaned my head fully against this shoulder a few moments later, he leaned his cheek down on top of my head. Call it as simple or as small as you like, but beauty and perfection and true joy are often found in the smallest of things. That moment was perfect and worth it all for me. No matter what comes, there was someone who actively held my hand, who actively leaned into me. And I am grateful for that.

Danke, danke, danke schön, mein Leib und mein Gott. ❤ Ich liebe dich so sehr, Welt.

Post-a-day 2021

^Questioned its accuracy after I typed it so easily😂

Talk about confidence

Why do I end up in many scenarios where I feel so unnoticed that I feel I do not belong, so in the background that I feel unloved, unworthy, unwanted?

I think a big part of it is that I purposely hold myself back. If I stay neutral, in the background, people will have the time to grow accustomed to my presences, however meager it may be, before they have a chance to know me for who I actually am. Thereby decreasing the likelihood of rejection when they face me, the unlike-anyone-I’ve-ever-known powerhouse of a person. A person we never would expect to find hiding uncomfortably in the background. Yet, there I cower oh, so often.

It’s like how I cowered at my gym, feeling I didn’t really belong, because I wasn’t monetarily wealthy or super fit or super strong. Yet, one night, I attended the class of people who weren’t exactly in those categories (bough most of the gym was in one or both), and I saw how I was just…, well, myself. I was talking freely and comfortably, and we were all smiling and laughing and having a really great casual time together… like we all belonged and we all wanted everyone there to be there, exactly as they were. At the time, noticing this helped me learn to talk to ‘the cool guys’ more comfortably and confidently, including the guy on whom I had an undeniable an unrealistic crush. It helped me to remember to treat them like people, not unreachable people. And then the world closed up business shop, and I haven’t seen any of them since. And the gym is now closed permanently, and I’m not sure I’ll ever see them all again, and definitely not all together again.

Now, I find myself looking deeper into that whole experience. It wasn’t that I had a crush on the one guy, nor that I felt I wasn’t supposed to talk o them because I wasn’t strong enough or rich enough. It was because I saw them in a position of power over me, and I saw myself as below and indebted to them. I could not talk truly with them, because it would have been interesting the master’s business, and I would have been possibly beaten and then dismissed from my post. Talk about ridiculous, right? But that’s how it was for me. That’s how it is for me in so many situations in life.

Here, I will help someone and genuinely expect nothing more than some expression of gratitude in return, yet I expect that, in order for anyone to help me, I would have to be indebted to that person for all time, always below a new master, to serve his every whim and demand. In jobs, I submit to the people in charge the same way, like I am an unworthy worm (thinking Hercules quote here) that they might crush at any moment if I do not do exactly as they wish – if they find out who I truly am.

But who am I truly?

I am a child and beautiful creation of God, who loves dearly and with all her being; who wants to do the best job possible, because she cares truly about the results and outcome of her labors; who wants to make the world a better place with every step she takes; who sacrifices with ease, when another is to benefit; who can get any job done, and done quite well; who is honest; who is an inspiration to almost anyone who really gets to know her for real; who blows me away so much that I struggle to believe I really am she, being this amazing and wonderful and awe-inspiring, especially in the midst of each of my life’s struggles… I am a person worth having around, no matter who you are or what you believe. I can make it happen, whatever it is.

And, somehow, I force myself to forget that, and to put myself beneath others, as though I am not even worth a second glance, let alone love and praise and friendship and reliance.

Okay

I am working on this now. I am worth so much more Han hiding in the background, even if I am at the mercy of someone’s whims as to whether I get or keep a job. I can always find another – I know that now. And the universe will help me, if I am being my true self. And it will send me to better and better places every step of the way forward…, because those are the places I belong, where I get to be myself. And nowhere else.

Perhaps that is why I have felt so out of place so often… perhaps I am out of place, and something better awaits my noticing.

Post-a-day 2020

Ouch

Well, my bum hurts… a lot… (Okay, now I am laughing, because that just sounds so totally charged with sexual innuendo, and get it is absolutely not one bit sexual.) So, the showerhead broke, because it’s actually made of plastic at the part where it screws onto the pipe, and it just kind of split. That means that, despite the double and triple efforts of duct taping the pipe and connection piece, a bunch of water comes out of the duct tape instead of the showerhead itself, making the water flow significantly decreased from usual. To stand under the full water flow – from the showerhead and the leaking part combined – one must stand directly beneath the pipe and showerhead, as opposed to out in front, as would be the place to stand under normal circumstances.

Now, imagine showering in this setting, and dropping a bar of soap. You squat down carefully to pick up the bar, and stand back up at a rather normal standing up speed… only to have your bum suddenly be on fire after hearing a loud clanking and feeling a big bash on your backside – you have just perfectly slammed and scraped your backside upward against and across the large bathtub faucet… the faucet that typically is a couple feet behind you when you’re showering, thereby rendering you shocked and confused at first… but then you recall the leaky water situation, and realize that you had not at all factored that into the squatting and standing back up scenario…

That was, essentially, the portrait of me last night. I now have an inch-long cut, a two point five inch-long red line on either side of it, a few deep red spots around it, and a bruised and lighter red area of about two point five inches by one inch to hold it all together. And it still burns, 24 hours after the incident even happened, let alone the dull pain of the hit’s bruise.

So, yeah, my butt hurts.

I actually couldn’t even put on my underwear all the way for quite a while last night, the skin burned so much from the cut (which had bled a surprising amount, considering so much of the butt is fat and all). And I couldn’t sit normal or lie down either for a long while. Instead of going to bed as I had planned, I stayed up and watched a film on the sofa, sitting on my side, allowing the cut to close up enough safely with the medicine, as well as stop hurting so much that I couldn’t let anything touch it.

Now, it is mostly just a matter of not letting anything rub across the skin there, nor pushing too hard against the area. Otherwise, it is doing rather well, and really just keeps reminding of my other butt injury this year, in which, while fixing a wedgie, my fingernail caught the skin at the base of my spine and top of my butt, right in the middle, and scraped off a whole inch-ish-long chunk. Yes, a chunk. It bled a lot, and all over my underwear – such a weird situation that one was(!).

Basically, I’m just wondering how many more of these absolutely ridiculous butt injuries I am going to be causing myself the rest of this year… or even my life. The last was in January in Japan, and this one is August in Southeast Texas. What will happen in another six-ish months, pray?

😛

…………….

In a totally separate note, I received official word this morning that my gym is closing at the end of this month, permanently. He had too many people drop memberships and all, so it is the safe and smart thing for him to do financially for himself and his family (the owner, I mean). While it is conceptually heartbreaking, I realize that my intense depression last month was very much regarding the fact that, while most everyone else was back at the gym as usual, and I was staying home because it was what we were told was the safest idea for the time besting in our city, I had a feeling that I wasn’t just missing out for now, but that I was missing out for good – that I wouldn’t ever be going back to the gym. Being upset over this idea as being real seemed irrational of me at the time, which only added to the sense of loss and the depression. However, now that I am on the other side of the depression and intense struggle, I have now dealt with the relevant concerns that were at its root…, including the idea of my never going back to that particular gym again. So, while the news is, well, new, I have already gone through the emotional turmoil of not being able to go to the gym ever again, so I don’t feel any need to go through it again – I’ve already handled that one!

Yes, it is sad that the gym is closing – it was a spectacular space filled with love and support that made huge impacts on many lives, mine included. However, it is both a new opportunity for the owner, as well as for me. As “High School Musical” so happily belted out for me tonight, it’s the start of something new – and I can feel it, and I am ready this time. 🙂

Post-a-day 2020

And another…

Well, another song has come into being by my hands.

And I like this one, too.

No, it is not so love-overflowing and happy and hopeful as the first, but it is still honest, and, while it hurts some, it is releasing…, cathartic, in a way…, and it offers hope.

Tomorrow morning, I will do my first of two workouts for the day, then I will start work on yet another song as part of my homework (due at 4:30pm tomorrow), then do another workout for lunch, and be delighted in the accomplishment of my one-year relationship – the only anniversary I’ve ever had – with the gym.

I am excited for tomorrow, and I am grateful for today.

God, help me to be true to myself and thereby share and create true love in the World.

Amen

Post-a-day 2020