cross-posted from the myspace blog

cross posted from the myspace, because I originally wrote it there thinking that it was probably the best outlet for philosophical angst. :)

On Growing Up and Fearing the Reaper

Well into my twenties, I realized that I still had not lost the invincible psyche of a teenager. Didn't worry too much about it, figured I'd grow out of it eventually. Had no realistic fear of death, and no desire to grow up and own up.

I think that may have passed sometime in the last couple of years. I feel like maybe I'm totally ready to be a grownup in whatever way that means to me.

As an adolescent and young adult, I hated pictures to be taken of me (derived from a clear sense that I wasn't pretty enough or thin enough or whatever enough to immortalize in a photo)...I was angry and loud and just plain mean to the stupid people. My patience could be measured between the thumb and forefinger of an infant orangutan.

Over the course of the last while, I've gotten over so much of the bullshit. I was working so hard on not being so angry and mean to the public, that I don't really know when the other stuff happened. I find myself more comfortable in my own skin than ever before and I cannot begin to describe how *normal* that feels, after so long of feeling like I didn't fit inside my own corpse. It's so easy to logically think about someone else viewing your body - rationally, you know they must at least *like* it, because they want to see you naked and desire your flesh. But it wasn't until relatively recently in my life that I could reconcile that with myself, and my view of how I look vs. how I think I should look. I really do have the self confidence to just be naked. Take it or leave it, it's what I've got, and I think I'm finally content with it. I still think I could probably lose ten pounds, and I hate it when my face breaks out once a month - but I'm really not concerned about it, nor do I let it stop me from wearing what I want and eating when I please.

The anger has been a constant source of frustration until my recent past. I'm still pretty high strung when it comes to stupidity, but I don't really yell at strangers or curse at the checker/bagger/salesperson/random idiot...and it's not because I'm holding my tongue and clamping down on my brain, it's because I have less desire to attack others now that I'm happier with me. It's been a decade of overcoming the rage, and I really feel pretty fucking good about it these days.

Spent a long time clamping down on my sense of humor, boisterous nature, random silliness, and general joy at being alive in order to fit myself into the mold of what someone else wanted me to be. While we were deeply compatible in many ways (how to raise kids, what does marriage mean, the flat tax...etc), we were very incompatible in all the surface and superficial ways. The day to day of getting along was a trial and required more effort than just enjoying someone's company should. I was in such denial of how much I was suppressing of my own personality that I'm a little bit shocked now that I'm not doing it anymore and how much happier I am as just me. Finding someone to share my body with was never the hard part - the challenge will be finding someone who likes me as I am; not as I might be someday if I would just work on those flaws they see in me.

And really? They can take it or leave it, 'cause I'm finally happy with me as is and I'm not changing for anybody. Fuck 'em.

How's everyone else feeling?