I write best when I’m lying in bed trying to sleep.
Or taking a shower.
Or when I’m having a conversation with… anyone really. I loose my attention, I zone out, form witty, funny sentences that I imagine my 10s of readers will enjoy.
And then I sit down to write. And it’s gone, it’s lost and forgotten. It will probably never return again, until I’m slightly buzzed and drifting off to sleep. Sometimes when I’m shaving my legs I make myself laugh with how hilarious I am. I rinse still thinking about it, towel off and put on lotion–my hands still slick with Lubraderm I sit to write it down and BOOM, it’s gone. Just like that. Out of my head, left me to go find someone who will take this thing more seriously.
Take this thing more seriously… I suppose I should get a waterproof notebook, one I can keep in my pocket at all times. Though, I rarely have pockets, I wear a lot of leggings and athletic pants. And have you SEEN the pockets on women’s jeans?! PLEASE! They hardly hold a nickle let alone my favorite Moleskin journal! And what pocket are we talking about if I’m in the shower… get outta there!
Okay. Time to get distracted so maybe I can focus on writing more.
I said I’d write.
But so many things have been bouncing around in my head that I keep telling myself that I just can’t seem to focus…
-I need new tires. Well, only two new tires, the front ones are what they say are ‘bald’. My boyfriend is bald, but I guess a bald head is better than bald tires.
-Tires are expensive. I should find the cheapest, but still quality, tires and just get them. Everyone has an opinion, “Go to Terri Tire, ask for Karl, tell him Artie sent you–get the Kelly tires. He’ll get you a deal”. “No, no, no. Walmarts will have the best deal, go there.” I know Walmart isn’t plural, the boys at the coffee shop would beg to differ.
-I don’t want to shop at Walmart, but I might have to. Cheaper tires from Walmart are cheaper and safer than bald tires sliding through the Main St. light.
-Moving. Joining. Embracing and moving forward. (I know, vague, right?! It’s vague in my head, too)
-Chicken! I made a garlic/herb butter and slathered that shit all up under her skin. She’s currently in the oven, has been for almost an hour; another 30 minutes and she’ll be crispy, tender, and hopefully delicious.
-She’ll come out of the oven, maybe I should crawl in. It’s so warm and the UP is so cold.
-Bald boyfriend is building me a head board. (smile emoji)
-A bathtub would probably be the better option to be warm, instead of crawling into the oven. A saner option at least. Alas, I do not have one.
-School. Oof. School. “What’s your goal with going back to school?” Honestly, I just want to be smarter, I want to study, I want to care about something again. Stop asking me, leave me alone, you don’t think I don’t ask myself these things??
…just the tip for you tonight.
I have always considered myself a girl with a loud and strong voice. Growing up I had an opinion about everything. Everything from what we were eating for dinner to not understanding why I wasn’t allowed to play tackle sports, like the boys were; I voiced what I thought no matter what. As I grew up my voice about women’s issues, politics, gay rights, environmentalism all got stronger. The voice about what I want for dinner and which movie to watch began to get smaller. That was okay–I typically felt and feel indifferent about those things. Or if not indifferent I felt that I could deal with whatever choice was made because I didn’t and don’t want to make the wrong choice and upset someone else.
Recently I’ve been put in the position where I have to ask for what I need. It seems like it should be easy. You have a need from a source that is supposed to be giving you that need and you ask for it. You ask for what you need. Simple. Period. Simple. So why am I struggling with this?
My friend Nikki Nigl is a huge proponent of the term “My voice is valid”. She makes a living by reminding women this fact. So why do so many of us battle with this? Why am I sitting at a coffee shop binge drinking my favorite dark roast anxiously awaiting a response to an email I just wrote. An email where I stated facts that I believed to be true about what I was told I was to receive and what I actually need?
Where did my self supporting voice go? Where did that little 9 year old girl with red cheeks, tears spilling over and a voice so sure of herself end up? Memories of tears, and plea’s, and absolute absolutes that I needed to have this or that toy or adventure, where did that go? Did I use all of it up? Is there a finite amount of confidence we’re allotted and I just used mine up before I became a teenager?
I still have a voice. I know that this voice can be loud and proud and angry. I get tears of frustration and anger that well up in my eyes when I hear on the news that my lesbian or gay friends could be fired for being who they are, I give a small amount of money to the Human Rights Campaign monthly to have a voice and support it. I call bullshit when Planned Parenthood’s funds are threatened and will fight tooth and bone with anyone for women’s right to chose. I also find myself defending co-workers and friends to people starting rumors and talking crap.
But ask me to stand up for what I need and I crumble. I sit in therapy for an hour and half and talk about how XXX isn’t working for me. I’m not getting what I was told I would get and I cower, hide and cry. I cry because I’m scared to say what I need. I cry because I’m afraid of how I’ll make the other person feel. I cry because I don’t want to be attacked and made to feel wrong. I don’t cry out of passion and stand up and shout what I need. I cry and curl up and whisper I don’t want to rock the boat and cause issues.
Nine year old me is unimpressed. 29 year old me is frustrated and working on it.