She leaned against her backyard fence. She could hear the neighborhood kids laugh by on their bikes up and down the curvy street she lived on. Sometimes, she spied on them through the slits in the wooden fence. So happy with one another. Yelling, screaming and laughing as kids usually do. Her happy place was on the other side of the fence. Near the giant plastic garbage bins and air conditioning unit. There was also a giant, black satellite pole that stuck out of the ground near the door to the garage that she measured her height on as years went by. A couple of lines of green paint still there. She was almost the same size as she had started this tradition near her only and last growth spurt. It was only a sliver of concrete that she liked to stand along. She thought of her hopes, dreams, bad days and realities. Her imagination took her everywhere. One day she would recite presidential speeches on how the world could be better. The next day, she could look up to the sky and see herself being picked up by a steam punk zeppelin where she started adventures with her new crew of characters. Another time she would try singing into a tape recorder to see if her voice was as pretty as the words she sang. Other days were not so creative, but no less active. She would strap in her roller blades and turn around the satellite pole until she could spin the most times without being dizzy. She played handball by herself against the side wall until it was dark. And then there were times where she just sat and cried because she knew that no one could see or hear her. Bad days were rare, but they still happened. It was her space outside of her space. As far as she could get away from home while still being home. But when the children she didn’t know would pass by her space, she would always go quiet. She wanted to listen to them. Wonder what it was like to have freedom on the other side of that wooden gate. What it was like to interact with people who weren’t imaginary and set in her creation. She wondered what it had all meant for her. At any moment she knew that she could just open the latch and watch them play. She might ask if she could join them or perhaps look sad enough for them to ask her. (Although the latter never worked for her in ANY situation) She wished she could just watch them. Like a television show that was outside. People-watching. Her imagination grew more hungry for a real companion to her stories and lonely activities. Someone to console her or laugh with her. With a whole other world out there, perhaps just one person can come into hers.
The women that I know are women I have seen from a distance.
I have seen them grow up. I have heard their secrets. I have listened to their “grown-up” problems. I looked at them as if they were gods. Those who can slip through anything. Strong enough to tell you off truthfully. They were smart, loving and independent.
Until they stopped.
Those women who I looked up to started to show the wrinkles in their lives to me. And when the wrinkles became mile high canyons, I stopped looking up to them. They were no longer strong, independent and even their love felt forced. When did everything stop being perfect? When did they start shitting on my hopes and admiration for them? It wasn’t enough to know they made mistakes, but to know that their mistakes were so unlike how I visualized them. Their mistakes were so deep and so silly that I wondered how they even built their lives without hesitation. How did they go so long with being so unhappy? How did they tolerate that unhappiness for so long?
I have a mother, four aunts (her sisters) and my own sister. In other words, people that I thought should have been my role models on how to be a strong independent woman. It turns out, every action that I have seen has been selfish. Knowingly bad choices, deep depression, ignoring the truth about themselves, drug addiction, unchecked severe anxiety and even late divorce has made them seem… selfishly broken. I have learned many things from their abundant mistakes. The first thing being: tolerating things. They just tolerate the bad until they have had enough. This is scary to me because I do it so well myself. I guess I learned from the best… But this is a bad thing because it means that I have the will to tolerate staying with a bad husband, tolerating staying at a bad job, or tolerating no self-growth before either exploding or becoming an unhappy puppet. I have a tendency to accept that something isn’t working out but staying with it anyway. I blame my high toleration on the fact that I don’t know what I want out of life. And I have seen that the women in my life have also been confused about this as well. They don’t know what makes them happy without bringing outer variables into it. There is nothing about themselves that keeps them on a self-actualized autopilot. And to define “self-actualized pilot,” sure there is turbulence, but at least there is a happy constant in their life. Most likely from within. A fact too far from the current truth.
I fear for my future because I can go down a path that resembles theirs. One mistake and I’m automatically like them. I have lived that way most of my adult life. Avoiding myself being remotely like them. Even being in their presence now scares me. Like they will somehow touch their skin onto mine and I will fail at life. But I know that is just a silly, ignorant thing to say. What I mean is that I just don’t want to compare myself to them. Not until I get it together. A happy, fulfilled life. Most likely medicated and visiting a psychiatrist’s office often. At least I can prevent the problems from happening because I am starting to see them emerge. Nonetheless, I am worried. (See? Anxiety.)
There is a quote that I really liked from a Tyler Perry film. Most recently, I have been thinking about it a lot. It’s about how you are the reason you succeed or fail in life. I identify with it, because I have blamed the adults in my life for causing me emotional problems even though that I shouldn’t marinate in those types of thoughts.
You’re in jail
because of what you did.
Learn how to take some responsibility
for yourself. For your own stuff.
I can’t stand folks wanna be the victim.
“This person did this so I’m this way.”
Everybody got a story.
Your mama and daddy
gave you life.
That’s all they do. No matter
how good, how bad the life was…
…it’s up to you to make something of it.
Suck it up and shut the hell up.
-Madea from “Madea Goes To Jail”
Harsh and true words Madea. (She is such a wise badass) This world values different things. Mistakes from the women and men in my life will always happen. No one’s perfect. But repeat offenders are a real problem. I would like to not be one of these people. I want to be successful and happy. I want a partner that wants the same things and will undergo the same constant struggles as me. I want to teach my kids that they will make the same mistakes until they will get it right. I want them to look up to me and see that I can form healthy relationships and hopefully see how it can benefit them. As someone who is a first generation kid in this country, it seems like I will know a little better about how to handle my kids and find what I want and don’t want. But I am jumping ahead a few years… That is if I even have kids or even a person to mentor in life.
But back to the women. Again, I have learned so much from them. I have shared laughs, professional advice, fun day trips and have seen above and beyond hospitality from them. They took me in when they didn’t have to. They are still wonderfully kind people. They are absolute treasures in my life. After all, they are still family. Family doesn’t ignore each other. If anything they are guilty of sharing too much. I just wish that I could see them live up to their full and free potential again. Confidence, independence, strength, intelligence and love. It’s all I want to see.
-The Human Girl
With the state of my uncertainty and anxiety towards the future I am reminded every day that there are possibilities. I quit my last job and I am starting a new job soon. I am unsure about this new job. Why waste my time with something that I am not one-hundred percent excited about? (Or at least 70%) Then it hit me, I was doing it for the money. An unspeakable disgrace to my personal beliefs. I grew up with the mindset of doing anything that I set my mind to, BUT I am just not sure where to begin. I am unsure about where my best lies. I haven’t tried any avenues for career exploration, self-improvement or even sticking to a job for a year. “Hey thehumangirl, where is your life going? Where will you live? What will you do for work?” I answer, “To be a hobo.” Because that is where I will end up if I don’t get it together. And by “it” I mean “passion for life and study.” I have learned things here in Colorado working at my sad retail job. I have also learned many things about myself as well as the other “humans” that I have been ignoring for so long.
RANT: I have learned that I just don’t like people. That’s that. People lie a lot and take their anger and annoyance out on you and all you have to do is to keep smiling. But I have also learned that those who smile are the weakest. They smile because they are told to. These smiley people who obey so blindly are just pawns who will never become more than followers. Then the leaders become dicks even though they were not dicks before they were leaders. END (ILLOGICAL) RANT.
No, but seriously, I wasn’t learning much in retail other than to be an adequate robot. I don’t think that’s what I want out of life. I want to lead in some way. But at this sad retail job, I wasn’t learning anything anymore. Stagnant. I felt the time ticking away. I saw myself as someone who would be there for too long, going home to a small apartment and watching expensive television up until bed. Useless future. This was not my plan for life. But then what is? What is this new job? Will it turn out the same? Probably. I have no passion for it other than the potential of it making me a lot of money so THEN I can start my purposeful life. Buuut… does that mean I should take a short cut and cut out this unexciting new job and fill it with experience for the later stuff?
I don’t know if I should take this other job. I want to go back to school and study for the real stuff… The “real stuff” being something that I actually WANT to do. However, I am torn as I want to do many, many things. But I know that I can’t be indecisive anymore. I MUST CHOOSE. It will be the hardest decision of my life. The MOST impacting. The most permanent. (Maybe not that, but something that lasts for a long time…) And it has been something that I have been struggling with for so long. Life is confusing.
-The Human Girl
P.S. In case you didn’t know, the title of this blog is a title of a song from the winner of the most recent Eurovision Song Contest, Mans Zelmerlow. I don’t know why I like this song so much…
I have recently come into a life-altering decision. Is my heart in this? Is my mind up to this? Is this the only option?
I don’t know what to think or feel. All I can think of is how my life will be very different… again. Being “stable” isn’t something I know all too well and I don’t think that it will ever happen.
I CHOSE this. I will do my best because I think I should. I think that it’s about time I do something substantial in a small setting. (Granted that the setting leads to somewhere)
My eyes are heavy. My mind is scattered. My pulse is fast. What if this is the wrong choice?
P.S. I got a job offer today. There are serious pros and cons, but I can make this work.
In this vast open land, I see a person. A person that is open and honest even if the consequences are against her. I can see where she stands, so elegant and unafraid. She spends her time looking around, not really saying much. She is alone and at times, stares at her phone to text back a short hello. Sometimes she laughs or smiles about something I cannot see or understand. Other times, she cries. She cries out of sadness, happiness, confusion and anger. I can never really ask her which affects her the most or the quickest. When I walk up to her, I can see that her eyes are tired. I can see that she is pleased to see me. I never feel hated. There are times when I have seen her angry at the world and at lies it cannot stop telling. She understands that it will never stop, but she will never succumb to that level of accepted dishonesty. I ask her where she will go after she stands. She looks away in a distant gaze and changes the subject. I think that she doesn’t think she can go anywhere else. She has stood here for so long that she doesn’t know where to go. She thinks that the world is filled with dishonest and distant people. I want to disagree but I don’t know how to defend my stance. When I hear her voice, it’s like listening to a person with a past untold. She looks more tired the longer I look and ask her questions. I feel tired after I hear her answer. Her elegant form becomes more slouched and chaotic. What does she wait for? Who does she wait for? Why does she wait only at this place? Does she do it because she is comfortable? Or just the opposite? Is it a penance? Does she know if she is lost? Or perhaps she has found herself a new home? I want to know her and I also don’t want to know her.
But she still stands. Seemingly waiting for the truth.
P.S. I did something terrible today.