More good advice

"If you haven't learned this romantic lesson yet, the stars are about to make you write it on the chalkboard 100 times now to drill it through your head. It's time to speak up for yourself in relationships and not sublimate your own needs. Aren't you tired of being 'nice' and 'good' to get someone to love you? Wouldn't you rather be your own honest, funny, intelligent self -- and be loved for that? How liberating! Uncomplicate a romance and level with your partner."

It would be nice to have a romance to apply this to, but I think the principle holds. I do hide my "self" too much in the attempt to be good enough to earn love.

I've been having an ongoing conversation this week with a friend who sees me as a wonderful, accesible, cuddly person with a backbone. I tend to see myself as a hedgehog... poky and itchy even when I don't mean to be. I'm trying to trust that the people who are worth having around are the ones who enjoy that "honest, funny, intellegent" self that comes out when I'm willing to be what feels like being prickly to me.

The trade off, of course, is that I really, really don't want to hurt people... and it seems like being free/prickly means not caring whether I hurt others. I will always care. But I also think that I hurt people least when I trust myself and find my own balance.

I would say this is true


***Your Power Color Is Teal***


At Your Highest:
You feel accomplished and optimistic about the future.

At Your Lowest:
You feel in a slump and lack creativity.

In Love:
You tend to be many people's ideal partner.

How You're Attractive:
You make people feel confident and accepted.

Your Eternal Question:
"What Impression Am I Giving?"

What's Your Power Color?
http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourpowercolorquiz/

Except for that eternal question thing. It's generally "What's wrong with me?" On good days the answer is, "Nothing!" On bad days it's, "Everything!"

I needed this

Daily Horoscope:

Some uplifting and exhilarating moments lie ahead, so keep that chin up, even if you're feeling gloomy and gray right now. Take a break from worrying no matter how small and indulge in something you love. This might mean a cup of hot chocolate or a quick walk through the park -- whatever it is that floats your boat, do it and you'll cheer up immediately. Personal matters will soon be on the mend, which is even further cause for celebration.


"Gloomy and gray" is a pretty good description. It's amazing to me how much moods can change one's experience of life. Monday night, I was on top of the world. I went home and cooked food for a week and tossed it into the freezer in lunch-sized containers. I cleaned the entire kitchen and re-organized the cereal cabinet. I went to bed, read for an hour, and woke up Tuesday morning refreshed and happy.

I spent Tuesday fighting my tools at work and learning that this week's project is bigger than I thought and then at karate I had an attack of the "stupids". We were doing stuff I've seen before and I couldn't remember it. When I did remember, I couldn't make my feet move right. I was so frustrated.

And that's continued to this morning. I'm anxious and I'm finding all kinds of reasons to be anxious. There's the "Judge Judy" episode with the crying woman, the class 4 hurricane that's heading toward Galveston a week before my cruise leaves there, even my friend's immenant return of his estranged wife, and now, my spelling. None of this has anything really to do with me. I'm borrowing anxiety to stoke or give form to this mood I find myself with.

So, I like the reminder that I don't have to feed it. It's there, but I can go do those things that are soothing and wait to see what happens to the mood.

Identity Found

One of the enduring images from all the WWII movies I watched growing up was people being asked for their travelling papers. It seemed so foreign to have to stop and present paper documentation of who you are. Of course, I lived in Colorado, where you can spend a good chunk of the day driving and still be in the same state.

I started to get it when I went to Central America during a break from college. First, I had to get a passport. Then I actually got off a plane in Guatemala City, Guatemala. The noise and confusion and absence of English that I asked a couple of folks in my travelling group, "Is this the bus to Cartegena?"

Later, in San Jose, Costa Rica, I saw a sign downtown. Arrows pointed down two streets with names like "Panama" and "Nicaragua". I realized with a start that those were directions to other countries. Suddenly, having something on had that would assure people in many different countries that I am safe seemed very practical.

It's many years later, enough that my passport has not only expired but I'm out of the grace period to renew by mail, and in a few weeks I'll be on a short cruise in the Caribbean. So I've had to dig up those documenting papers. I'm feeling a strange sense of disorientation as I realize that my passport, my birth certificate, my driver's license are, in a sense, more "real" than me. These things which are products of human hands, and transitional, are the only ways official agencies have to make a space for *me*. But how can those things be me?

I have similar sense of vertigo when I look at pictures of myself. I know a hundred people, but the person in that picture isn't someone I know. I haven't spent the same kind of time looking at that face. In fact, I've rarely seen that face in motion. Like a celebrity, it's a face I know I should know something about, but it's always still, and usually smiling, and a pale imitation of those celebrity images. (I know, it's the make-up, the artists, the lighting and not the face. This is a statement describing disorientation, not self-loathing.)

So, in a month that has involved being mistaken for other people because of my name, I'm now holding papers that are the evidence that I am me.

Horoscope for the Day

Feeling unusually shy or meek? That's no surprise -- certain celestial influences are emphasizing more modest and humble virtues rather than the more outspoken and brash ones that you're used to. Don't worry -- you're as competent and on top of things as ever, even if you don't feel like it. This reversal of your normal mood may lead you to laying blame on people, but resist this urge. Focus on staying levelheaded instead.

Identity Crisis

It's been a weird month. It started with a note I recieved from a director at the company I'm contracted to. She'd forwarded an invitation with a note that said, "This looks great!". It was a wedding invitation. I replied saying that she probably didn't mean to send it to me.

Then a guy from work IM'd me on a Friday afternoon. "Want to get a beer?" He said. I said, "Ummm... are you sure you mean me?" We've never talked on a personal level. He was suprised when I said I was at the client site. Oh, and I'm a lesbian. Not that I'm in-your-face about it, but if he'd asked around at all, he'd get the message.

I finally heard back from the director, that the invitation was meant for her sister. As a co-worker said, she didn't really want me as her date for the wedding.

Scanning the headlines, I saw "A speck in Katrina's eye." It's really weird to see your name in the headlines.

Another IM today, asking if I want to talk about the technical training next week. I said I'd be happy to provide input, but Anne the trainer would probably be a better resource. Which is who they meant to ping.

So this is a note to the universe. I am me. I expect this season of mistaken identities to pass. However I'm not above taking advantage of the mistakes if I'm offered something I want.

Frozen

I am frozen in mid-breath,
mid-heartbeat,
wanting so much
for this moment to be the one
when I hear your voice again.

Caught between wondering
whether to hope for life,
whether to keep blood in the psychic heart
with your name on it...
Or to let it diminish.
I keep my finger over the statis button.

The Nun Thing

Once, long ago, I worked for a church. Actually, the position I am remembering was the culmination of a degree in youth ministry, several part time youth ministry jobs, having a talent for computers, writing, and layouts, and needing a full-time job. Yes, I was a church secretary.

Maybe I should have known that taking a church secretary position wouldn't result in the ordination I was really hoping for. Maybe I should have realized before taking the position that all church secretaries are supposed to have husbands who bring in the real money, since church secretaries earn squat. But I didn't. It fulfilled a few values that were dear to me at the time: using my creativity at work, being in a gentle environment, helping build a community I believed in. And by default, it encouraged my faux passion for living simply.

After three years, I left that position. There were many reasons. One was the dawning realization that no matter the enlightenment of the people you work with, there is a glass ceiling between secretaries and ministers -- even though the best secretaries see themselves as ministers. A second was the growing realization that the "gentle environment" I'd craved was a function of not being ready to deal with my sexuality, and I was ready to begin to explore that. A third was realizing that I didn't want to spend my life making the kind of money I was making. I wanted to have the money to choose simplicity... or not. A fourth was the painful experience of working with someone who was trying to get me fired, while at the same time being asked by a friend to apply at her company.

But the straw that broke the camel's back happened over my last Christmas at the church.

My sister married a Russian man she'd fallen in love with while working in Uzbekistan. They chose to move back to Colorado to start their family, and entered the names of his relatives in the immigration lottery. My brother-in-law's brother was the first to win a place, and he moved his family here too. I call them "the Russian in-laws".

This particular Christmas celebration, we'd gathered at my parents' place. My parents, me, my brother, my sister and her family, and the Russian in-laws all gathered around the tree for the gift exchange. And my gift from the Russian in-laws was a large cross key chain and a portrait of a depressed-looking nun with the words "God bless this home" on it.

When I got around the disappointment and I tried to imagine the information they knew about me. Single girl in her late 20's, plain dressing, distant, works at a church... I realized they thought I was a nun... and that it was a reasonable assumption based on what I was doing at the time. However, being a nun wasn't what I wanted. I am not called to celibacy and poverty of body or spirit doesn't sound very appealing either.

So, I took the next opportunity to apply to my friend's workplace and was out of there in less than a month.

Over the next 5 years, I came out, began studying martial arts, took a break from church, changed my wardrobe, learned I was capable of earning much more than I'd ever be paid at church, fell in love and out of love a few times, and generally grew up.

But just this morning a friend wrote and said, "You know, as I was waking up this morning, I realized you remind me of one of those plain-clothes nuns from Catholic school."

Really. I have tried to be different.

Horoscope for the day:

"As overwhelmed as you might currently feel, try to get past a self-imposed sense of inadequacy that may be nothing more than your fears in a clever disguise. Your friends and coworkers see a superstar, and rightly so. You're about to be handed an opportunity that's tailor made for your skills and gifts -- don't let strong (and undeserved) feelings of self-confidence prevent you from taking what's rightfully yours."