Upgrade Ready

So I was at work today and I decided to splurge for the first time in a VERY long time on some beauty products. For some reason, I felt this need to experiment and play with a whole new look.

In other words, I bought a whole lot of new make-up.

That got me back to thinking about my life change again. I don't want a superficial change, like some new make-up to make me look better. I want a real change, like writing every day and running and eating healthier. The superficial can make everything look and maybe seem a little better, but it's just a trick.

It's like putting a new paint job on a broken down Pinto. You're still stuck on the side of the road wondering where all your money went.

I'm not returning the make-up, because I like a nice paint job, thank you very much. But I can't stop there. I need to get this life change back to the center of my life. No matter what is going wrong, this change has been an extraordinary source of strength for me, and I'm not ready to lose that.

And I like where I was going when my engine was running.

Just Smile

At work, all of the night shift managers treat me like I'm an idiot. I can't figure out why, though. I mean, they haven't spent more than a few minutes with me at a time, never talk to me about anything meaningful, and they know next to nothing about me. But yet they assume I'm an idiot.

Is it the smile? The laugh? The blonde hair? The youth? I just don't get it.

Other people smile and laugh and have blonde hair and are young. They don't treat them like idiots. So what's the problem here?

I know it has to do with my reputation. I'm the girl who is always happy, always friendly, always nice. I'm the good girl everyone likes. I'm silly and loud and spacy.

So few people look beyond that to the keen intelligence beneath. Nor do they realize that the spaced out dreaming is my extreme creativity at work.

But even those who can't see what lies beneath the exterior don't just assume I'm an idiot. So why do the night shift managers??? Did one of them just not like me and spread that dislike like a plague through their ranks?

Grr. The worst part is none of them will just come out and say what they are thinking. Just once, I'd like to explain to a person that a friendly smile doesn't mean you don't understand what suffering is like; it means you decided to be strong enough to smile anyway. Just once, I wish someone would dare to tell me to my face that I don't know what it's like to suffer. That if life had been as hard for me as it has been for them, I wouldn't smile like that.

I know what suffering is. I have suffered more in my short life than most people will ever even imagine. But I also know there are many out there who have (and still do) suffered much worse than I.

But my suffering taught me something very important: Life doesn't make you happy. Other people won't make you happy. YOU are the only one who can make yourself happy. So screw those who made you suffer and be happy anyway.

And screw those who don't understand.

Being Different Than The Rest

They hired a new girl where I work, and my coworker decided to tell her that I'm "eccentric". I told my boss this, and she said, "Oh, I wouldn't term it quite that way. I'd call you unique. And special."

Which pretty much means she agrees.

And, yeah, I know I'm eccentric, unique, special, whatever you want to call it. I'm different than everyone else. I always have been. I haven't been different completely by choice, but I AM different.

Each of us is different, of course. We each have something that makes us unique and special. But, apparently, my uniqueness shines a little brighter than most. At first, I felt vaguely insulted by the fact that she called me eccentric. I acknowledged that she was right, but I felt as though she was saying there was something wrong with me because I'm not like everyone else.

But I've been thinking about it. I've wanted to be special, something different and unique and incredible, my entire life. But then I would seek a goal contrary to that desire: I tried to fit in.

Not very well, obviously, but I did try.

It turns out, in my life-long search of being special, I've been fighting myself. Because I also want to be accepted and loved by everyone else, and so I try to fit in with them.

So I think it's past time for me to stop viewing other people calling me different as an insult. It's a compliment. That means I'm actually headed in the right direction towards what I've always wanted: to be incredible.

What do you think? Do you think being different is a good thing?

Daily Stats:

 

1. Exercised and stretched once today. Meditated and worked on my writing twice.
2. Wrote in my journal, stayed on budget, and wrote a haiku.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Made my bed.
5. Did not stick to my diet.
6. Cooked breakfast and dinner.
7. Drew. 

The Sweetest Little Commenter I've Ever Seen

Well, Mark might not even read this, as it is a Thursday, but I decided to do a blog post for him anyway!

Thank you so much, Mark, for all the encouragement, time, and kindness you've shown me. You have no idea how much it has meant to me. Whether I like it or not, I'm an over-sensitive soul (I've been told that comes with the territory of dealing with a creative mind) and I need all of the encouragement I can get.

You've been a great friend to me, and I want you to know that your efforts have been appreciated. Hopefully, you'll be reading this on Friday and realize it. ;)

Thanks again, especially for yesterday's comment. I really needed it. I hope the writing is going well! And good luck!

Daily Stats:

1. Exercised, meditated and worked on my writing twice today. Only stretched once.
2. Wrote in my journal, stayed on budget, and wrote my first ever haiku today.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Made my bed and did a load of dishes.
5. Stayed on my diet.
6. Cooked breakfast and made my lunch.
7. Drew.

True Happiness

I read a poem today by a young woman who sounded very troubled. Her entire poem was a description of her thoughts while staring at herself in the mirror. She describes herself demanding her own image to become thinner, calling it ugly and disgusting, and she ends the poem with the sentence: I know I will never be happy.

And she's right. If nothing changes, she never will be.

Because this young woman is looking for happiness in all the wrong places, she will never attain it. Because she sees that her own self-worth is inexplicably connected to her appearance and not her personality or love, she will never discover what it is to be happy.

And that is a sad, sad thing. No one should face a life without happiness. That isn't living; that's waiting to die.

I have long believed that happiness was something you could create, if you really wanted to. That it lay inside yourself, and wasn't something external or tangible. That was one of the most important lessons my mother ever taught me.

But the media and marketing professionals say otherwise. They say happiness comes from eating junk, driving nice cars, living in expensive houses, and being beautiful/dating beautiful people. They say you have to live like a millionaire and look like a supermodel to be happy.

And so many people, especially young people, believe these lies. I have a friend I know who hardly eats anything at all. Her doctor told her that if she doesn't start eating more, he'll be calling the police to report her for attempted suicide, her nutrition is so bad.

But she refuses to take his warnings. She tells all of us that she likes the way she is now, and she'll start eating again when she loses 40 more pounds. 40 more pounds! Now, she isn't stick skinny, by the world's standards, but the girl barely has any meat on her bones as it is. If she lost 40 pounds, she'd be nothing but bones!

It isn't the fact that she isn't stick skinny that is this girl's problem. It isn't the fact that she doesn't have tons of money. This girl's problem is that she has tied her sense of self-worth to someone else's ideal. She thinks she isn't good enough as she is; she must lose weight by any means necessary.

She must be beautiful to be happy.

I wish I could explain to the world that this simply isn't true. I wish I could get a message out there that to be happy is to LIVE happy. You think happy thoughts, you do fun things, and you enjoy your life, no matter the problems or flaws. If you believe you're happy, even if you're lying at first, you WILL BE. Losing 40 pounds doesn't make you happy. Getting rid of acne doesn't make you happy. Looking great in a swimsuit doesn't make you happy. Dwelling on the positive, good things in life makes you happy! Treating the negative, bad things as aberrations in a wonderful world makes you happy!

I challenge anyone out there who is reading this: walk up to the most beautiful person you know and ask them if they are happy with their life. Ask them if they are happy with their body/face. Ask them if beauty has brought them pleasure or pain.

If they are honest, nine times out of ten you'll get a no, no, and more pain than pleasure. Because beauty can be just as much a curse as a blessing. Think on any famous, beautiful person in history. Cleopatra didn't live happily ever after with her love; they both killed themselves in a cave while an army hunted for their heads. Marilyn Monroe didn't live happily ever after; she committed suicide. And how many celebrity marriages (between some of the most beautiful people in the world) have you seen end in divorce, scandal, and misery? How many have you seen NOT?

And yet people still don't believe. That someone who is poor and ugly can be a million times happier than a beautiful, rich person is beyond imagining. It goes against the laws of the media, and god forbid we do that.

I know. It's easy to say these things, but far more difficult to convince our emotional brains that it's true. I suffer from thoughts of self-hatred and I watch the same media as the rest. I'm brainwashed, too.

But is that just the way it has to be? Is that the future we condemn our next generation to? Is that what we want the human race to be guided by for the next 100 years?

I'm sorry, but this poem disturbed me greatly. And I believe it should disturb all of us. This is what people think today. This is an affliction that millions suffer from. If something doesn't change, we're looking at a future of miserable human beings who don't even know what it means to LIVE.

Daily Stats:

1. Exercised, stretched, meditated, and worked on my writing twice today.
2. Wrote in my journal, stayed on budget, and wrote poem today.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Made my bed, organized my desk, and did some laundry.
5. Stuck to my diet.
6. Made a smoothie for breakfast, cooked lunch, and fixed dinner.
7. Drew.