I am Me . . .

I lost her, somewhere deep in a closet locked in a trunk of insecurities. the closet filled with my ghosts and skeletons that I don't talk about just push under a rug. They get out every now and then and wreck havoc on my life and I use to resent them for it. But I am embracing them. They are a part of me. They aren't going to fight to get out if I let them occasionally in other manners, enough to keep them at bay. Channeling them through my fingers onto paper instead of them shoving my mouth open and jumping out.

I woke up smiling for the time this morning since I've become accustomed to waking up alone. It's a gorgeous day outside, I took a shower, and decided I wanted to lay in bed again. Savoring the feel of the jersey sheets against my skin. Life is too short not to appreciate the small things. I am at peace iwth myself, and proud of myself. I am a strong independent woman that doesnt need anyone but herself. I am no Audre Lorde, or bell hooks, or Sandra Whitworth by any means.

But somewhere along the way I lost my optimism, faith in people, the hippie that dances in the rain. That is who I accidently locked in my trunk of insecurities. And she's back. I think I'll take a walk today and I think I'll celebrate St. Patrick's Day at a bar because why the hell not? I don't need to vacuum or clean, the house is liveable and that is all that matters. I am going to enjoy myself. Now that doesnt mean I dont want company by any means of the imagination. But there is a strong difference between want and need and I do not need anyone but myself. I want others but that is something different.

Yes . . . I think I have finally brokered a treaty with this demons in my closet.