On Life And Growing Up
Ever recieve a backhand compliment? You know, those sort of unintentionally off center accolades that begin with things like "Did you really write that?"
"Why?" I respond, worried. "Is it bad?"
"No, it's really good." (As in "you ussually suck old gym shorts". )
I wasn't insulted when my friend Mary Ellen commented on some of my new work. We hadn't spoken in several months, both of us busied-she with her job, I with my family and family affairs. She hadn't read anything I'd penned in the past few years. So, if anything I am very much relieved to know I've improved since our high school writing class.
I was thrilled to hear from her-remembering my birthday touched me. She always was a thoughtful person, one of my best friends during a few of the worse years of my life. I was years ago suffering from anorexia, bulimia and dibilitating anxiety. Actually to think of me then I realize I have grown and improved in a great many ways. I am no longer a troubled and tormented teen, but rather a resilient survivor in her 30's, married with a son I adore more than anything in life. I am recording music again after years on hiatus. I have been preapproved for a home loan and plan to buy my first one in 2005. I am finally making some signifigant progress in my efforts to finish my book(s). For the first time I feel a wee bit in control of things, which feels very, very good. Wow, I stagger. I'm a grown up. And you know, being a grown up isn't nearly as hard as it was becoming one . That is a process that hasn't as much to do with age as it does maturity. The task involves not only sorting out who you are, but what makes you happy, and living life on your terms irregardless of what others think about you. I was terribly insecure. Too many years were spent trying to impress my peers or trying to prove to my parents that I was in fact, worth the food and shelter they'd provided me growing up. They loved me. I just felt unworthy of it. Too many years were spent fussing over frivilous things and not appreciating the true blessings of life. Like, my parents. Like, my husband and son. Like, my friend Mary Ellen and others, who through thick and thin have been there for me. Like, being comfortable with who I am, faults and all. None of is is born superhuman, but rather, naked, crying and confused. The fact that any of us gets anywhere in life is a miracle and an accomplishment for which we can all be proud.
"Why?" I respond, worried. "Is it bad?"
"No, it's really good." (As in "you ussually suck old gym shorts". )
I wasn't insulted when my friend Mary Ellen commented on some of my new work. We hadn't spoken in several months, both of us busied-she with her job, I with my family and family affairs. She hadn't read anything I'd penned in the past few years. So, if anything I am very much relieved to know I've improved since our high school writing class.
I was thrilled to hear from her-remembering my birthday touched me. She always was a thoughtful person, one of my best friends during a few of the worse years of my life. I was years ago suffering from anorexia, bulimia and dibilitating anxiety. Actually to think of me then I realize I have grown and improved in a great many ways. I am no longer a troubled and tormented teen, but rather a resilient survivor in her 30's, married with a son I adore more than anything in life. I am recording music again after years on hiatus. I have been preapproved for a home loan and plan to buy my first one in 2005. I am finally making some signifigant progress in my efforts to finish my book(s). For the first time I feel a wee bit in control of things, which feels very, very good. Wow, I stagger. I'm a grown up. And you know, being a grown up isn't nearly as hard as it was becoming one . That is a process that hasn't as much to do with age as it does maturity. The task involves not only sorting out who you are, but what makes you happy, and living life on your terms irregardless of what others think about you. I was terribly insecure. Too many years were spent trying to impress my peers or trying to prove to my parents that I was in fact, worth the food and shelter they'd provided me growing up. They loved me. I just felt unworthy of it. Too many years were spent fussing over frivilous things and not appreciating the true blessings of life. Like, my parents. Like, my husband and son. Like, my friend Mary Ellen and others, who through thick and thin have been there for me. Like, being comfortable with who I am, faults and all. None of is is born superhuman, but rather, naked, crying and confused. The fact that any of us gets anywhere in life is a miracle and an accomplishment for which we can all be proud.
posted by Melody at 5:07 PM
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