All my life, people have been telling me how to act. How to behave and be the person they want me to be. I take too big of steps. I talk to loud and express opinions that make some people uncomfortable.
Fuck you! This is who I am. I will not alter my path or behavior to make you feel more comfortable.
I have an Indigo child. In researching this, I discovered that I’m one of the pre-indigos. I’m here to cut a path through the old ways. The stupid, self destructive ways. To make it a little easier for the younger generation. In theory.
People hate change. They light their torches and grab their pitch forks when they encounter something different.
I have tried to tone down my weirdness. Out of love or a need to be part of a group. The strange always finds a way. It took me a long time to rejoice in my uniqueness. To accept the lonely path and cherish those who keep pace with me.
A woman I work with is always telling me I’m too nice. She hurls it at me like an insult. Then, tells me how I should be conducting my life, according to her pendulum. I’m not kidding! It’s all I can do to keep from telling her to get fucked while laughing my ass off.
God forbid I overstep my bounds and give this person a sharp edged piece of my mind. Then, we’d have a hostile work environment.
I always seem to be the one who has to suck it up and keep the peace. Even when I’m the one being attacked. “Calm down, Patricia. It’s just a joke.”
Insulting my family and life choices is asking for a fight.
I was raised to be well mannered. Sometimes, things bypass my inner censor and shoot out of my mouth. Most of the time, if someone gets butt hurt I’ll apologize. I don’t like being forced, by culture or custom, to kiss the ass of someone I’d rather throat punch. Does anyone?
When people know that you’re pretty laid back and not easily offended. Why do they feel comfortable being passive aggressive, skid marks?
A line was crossed a few days ago. I finished up my paperwork and stormed out of the studio. Discretion is the greater part of valor.
I did receive a half-assed, wimpy apology on my voice mail. Lesson learned. I can’t talk to this person without reminding myself that she is NOT an ally.
She’s a vicarious vampire. Sucking people’s life experiences to fill her own, boring life.
I sometimes wonder if I’m speaking in tongues. I hear something completely, rational and clear come from my mouth. Yet, the people I speak to hear something else, by their response. It’s no longer amusing.
Being honest seems to be a liability, too. I’m a terrible liar, and proud of it.
Good weirdos are hard to find. Good thing I enjoy my own company. Life gets lonely.