Abuse Hides in the Dark. Turn on Your Light.

Just Like I Thought: I am a woman who…

Has trouble defining herself meaningfully

Has trouble defining herself meaningfullyMy mother asked me to complete this sentence: “I am a woman who…”. And I am having a horrible time with it. I realize the exercise is to help me define myself, and I am fearful of doing that. What if I’m no one? Or worse, what if I’m no one special?

I really want to be special. Is that wrong?

I am a woman who…

  • loves my children more than life,
  • wishes to be both exactly like my mother and completely different from her,
  • finds comfort in being married,
  • smokes and eats for medication,
  • spins thoughts so quickly I can’t focus on one,
  • bought a car all by myself for the first time last year,
  • wants to be on Oprah even though I never watch her show,
  • loves the Internet technologies,
  • loves to read,
  • wishes I could do something important for the world, for other women, for my children, for myself.
  • piles instead of files,
  • loves animals but isn’t ready yet to love ONE animal – it’s too hard to lose them,
  • has trouble defining herself meaningfully,
  • wonders how this list is going to help,
  • finds her head in her hands with tears on her face for no discernible reason,
  • lives in a house with no sunlight,
  • hopes for the best but worries anyway,
  • accepts everyone except my husband for who they are,
  • chooses friends wisely,
  • chooses words less wisely,
  • wants to be married to this one man who I cannot change,
  • is tired of this stupid list.

piles, cigs, and artificial light

Whatever. Maybe I’m not letting myself go. I’ll try again after I get my coffee.

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