Sunday, August 1, 2010
In many ways I am the same girl I've always been and I've hated that. I've spent years trying to turn myself into thick-skinned super awesome confident... me. But recently I've discovered that, while in many ways I've changed and grown, in the most essential places I've stayed consistently, "Angela."
I don't want to sound cliché ("woe is me! woe is me! I'm so unlucky, I don't have self confidence.") because I know that physiologically, every human is searching for that "missing piece." In most natural ways, despite what children's books and your third grade teacher told you, we are very much the same. We all grow hungry, thirsty, weary, bitter, sorrowful, ebullient... etc. We all want something and for the most part, we all don't have it.
Today, not only am I aware of what I don't have, but I am also aware of my own personal qualities that make me want it all the more.
I have always known how I felt about boys. While some girls developed affection for them in middle school... I knew I was in love with Nick Sharp (and Ian Haas) in Kindergarten. I distinctly remember having a vicious argument with Britney "something-or-other" about who deserved him and who he wanted. At recess, after many minutes (hours? days?) of heated discussion we decided he should finally have an opinion on the matter. We raced over to where Nick was sitting, playing with rocks, and Britney asked him the following question: "Who do you like better? Me... or her?"
She pointed to me with a smug look of superiority, and I stood there like a solid wood plank. It didn't take long for him to come to a conclusion. "I don't like either of you!" he exclaimed in horror, "Leave me alone!" Then he ran away. (Way to be a man, Nick).
Looking back, it seems like there were a lot of similar situations. In high school, as a lot of people know, I was pretty boy crazy (and definitely a bit selfish). At least, that's what the girls in the youth group at church called me. But, how could I help myself? I've always been passionate. I've always, for some stupid reason unbeknownst to me, felt like I wanted to love and be loved. Why was that so aberrant?
I suppose most people have felt that way, but my problem was and sometimes still is, that I talked about it all the time. I blithely sputtered on about it to all my friends or anyone really. I couldn't contain how I felt about how Aaron's shoe bumped mine on accident... but had it been an accident??!? And I think my whole English class knew the details about my secret plan to get "Fanch" to ask me to prom (which was a fail because I ended up having to ask him).
In response to the negative feedback from those around me who thought I was "boy crazy" and immature... and because all of my ploys collapsed in around me. I hid my feelings, my heart. I thought that wild, driven, longing: Angela was gone; she was a part of my past.
It took a while for the walls to come crumbling down again, and who could have prognosticated that she was still there? I found her recently as I was sifting through the rubble and scree. She's the one, that makes me dwell on things that are over, or can never ever be. She's the part of me that reminds me of how I want to feel, when I don't feel it. I've hated her for it. I've despised her for making me miserably sad, because sometimes she wants things that just aren't possible.
"Remember how you felt when he... wasn't that great?... Oh yeah, that's impossible isn't it?" (I've had this conversation with her many times before).
But recently, (and because I no longer care what the youth group thinks of me) I've considered that maybe she's not so bad because she's also the one that gives me hope. On my worst days when I'm alone before work or in the car thinking about life, she's in my head. "Hang in there Ang, You'll get through it... and you'll be stronger because of it. You'll feel loved again."
And you know what, she's right. She's wild and passionate and often times a bit capricious. She can be very impulsive and she draws a lot of unnecessary attention, but she's me and I'm right; I will feel that way again. I will be loved, and loved well.
Peace and Love (to you)