Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Archive for the tag “baggage”

BAGGAGE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You didn’t know me before. . .

Before
life seemed to drive me to be jaded, untrusting, wary, fearful

Marked now
with scars and bruises
some evident
others not noticeable to the naked eye

So much history
packed away
stashed
concealed
camouflaged and ensconced
in the baggage I carry
(we all tote something)

suitcase
duffle
backpack
carpet bag
steamer trunk

If you were to say to me,
“Set them down babe,
the burden of what you carry could cause Atlas to collapse from exhaustion,
take each item out when you’re ready,
I’m here to help,
I’m not here to judge”

And if I actually find the courage
to take out the key
and turn that key in the lock
and throw open the lid
would you really stand there
while I release my own type of Pandora’s boxed goods

Because if you did. . . .

I might need you to hold my hand
take my elbow to steady me
on my feet
when my knees threaten to buckle
from the weight
of some of it as I lift it out

I may need you to dry my tears
and pull me close
and tell me you appreciate
all the things I’ve carried
because they’ve made me who I am today

I may need you to crack jokes
so that I may laugh
to purge myself of all the negativity
and misconceptions
I’ve pulled from inside these vessels of wounds

I may need you to love me

How do you see me?

Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who’s constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head.  They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who’ll always cheer them up and help them out.

That’s the “results” from the “How Do Others Perceive You” quiz I just took on Psych Central.  I can see that people would definitely see the traits in the first sentence in me, but I guess they don’t necessarily see the stuff in the second sentence in me.  Case in point, on Friday I asked my boss for a couple of hours off in the afternoon to go help a friend, whose husband died after being shot by a sniper in Afghanistan, with something she was doing for a non-profit she started in her husband’s name.  This non-profit is meant to help other soldiers and their families during times of crisis, or to help support them during deployments.

My boss comes to my desk in the morning and I tell him what time I am planning on leaving, and he chuckles, and tells me that I need to “just give it up”, because he knows that I am not being true to myself, because that’s not who I really am.  Not that I really give two shits what my boss thinks about me, because he obviously doesn’t know me, but this kind of hurt my feelings.  It also in turn got me wondering how others perceive me, and it started a lunch time discussion with my co-worker/friend.  She has told me her perception of me when she first met me–basically she thought I was a tough bitch that was quite unapproachable.  But, she says once she got to know me, she thinks I am quite humorous, intelligent, giving, and really need to work on the fact that I devalue myself so much when it comes to men.

What she says she sees in me, is pretty much the same picture I have of myself in my head.  At times I feel I am unapproachable, and I have a wall up when it comes to certain people.  Other times I feel like I am too open and let people in too easily, thereby allowing myself to be hurt–I seem to do this when it comes to men, and I’m not sure why.  Doesn’t make much sense that I would be open myself up with men I hardly know, when it is men who I have allowed to hurt me in the past.  Hmmm. . .much on that one Freud!!

Am I a kind person?  I don’t see myself as a kind person, but I do see myself as giving.  I have very little patience for people who have the ability to, but refuse to, help themselves, but I am more than willing to help those who can’t.  I don’t have a lot, but I am grateful that I have much more than many others have.

Am I intelligent?  I would like to think so, but maybe that’s not reality.  Sometimes I like to imagine that I really am smarter than I think I am.  I would like to think that I am currrently wasting a very intelligent brain by only having a bachelor’s degree and working as an office manager.  I have always wanted to work in a helping profession and feel like I am contributing something to society.  I think about returning to school all the time to get a master’s, so as not to “waste my good brain”.  Of course maybe the reality is that I am actually less intelligent than Cliff Clavin, even though I know many useless facts, and have a never-ending brain stash of song lyrics stored from as far back as 1972.

Am I humorous?  Totally.  I crack myself the fuck up.  I tend to make others laugh on a regular basis too, so I don’t think that’s an ill-conceived perception.

Am I talented?  I am the jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none.  I can do a lot of things well, but I don’t really feel as though I am exceptional at anything.  Guess you could call me half-assed.  🙂

Am I beautiful?  I guess that’s a matter of opinion.  Some days I think I look really good.  Other days. . . .you know how it goes.  Sometimes you just feel bloated and unloved.  I do think that I still look exceptionally good for my age.  Most people would guess I am about 8-10 years younger than I actually am, which I think is a good sign that I am sufficiently covering the grays and taking pretty good care of myself!  lol  I did have a 7 year old tell me yesterday that I look like I’m 18.  How cool am I??

What do I think of me as a total package?  I do think that I am a damn good catch, because I do have a lot of great qualities.  Do I have flaws?  Of course.  We all do.  We all have the baggage we carry from childhood, from previous relationships, from life in general.  Maybe that’s what people see of me–my baggage.  I can’t disguise it, I can’t deny it’s there.  Every step, every word, every experience, has made me what I am today.

But in the immortal words of The Breakfast Club. . . .

Saturday, March 24,1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois, 60062. Dear Mr. Vernon, We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you’re crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us – in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Correct? That’s the way we saw each other at 7:00 this morning. We were brainwashed.

 

So how do you see me?  Maybe you were brainwashed Dick Vernon.

 

 

 

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