An Audacious Thing
Monday, May 7, 2012 at 6:36PM Who am I allowed to be in this world?
A strange question, maybe, but one which keeps echoing through my mind.
As a child, there were so many limitations on how I was allowed to act and even the expressions on my face. Uncomfortable around my step dad, I tried my best to not let my unease show and to keep my face a blank. Still I would occasionally be accused of having a sour look, or of sulking. I never knew what I was doing wrong that my expressions would so betray me. Why, when I thought myself so adept at hiding emotion did I so often wind up in trouble?
My behaviour in general was greatly criticized. I acted too happy (which seemed to offend my step dad and mother both), or if I wasn't smiling or bubbly I was sullen and sour.
My choice of pastimes was always up for critical discussion. My constant reading was a bone of contention, for by sticking my nose in a book I was shutting out the rest of the family. When I wanted to go across the street to play with my best friend, Bec, I was scolded for spending so much time there when I should be at home--but why? No one at home seemed to enjoy my company; why did they care if I was there or not?
My passion for God seemed to rub my mother the wrong way, though once I heard her feign pride in my spirituality when we ran into a fellow church member at the local grocery who, much to my embarrassment, complimented my mother on my love of the Bible.
Every which way I turned, I was forever getting it wrong, wrong, wrong. Looking back, I'm amazed and saddened that one little kid could so often be the object
of such ongoing disapproval. My natural instincts, interests and talents were not allowed to grow and expand as needed, for there was always that tiresome element of censure.
And so, here I am, decades later wondering just who it is I'm allowed to be in this life. Oh, I realize that I'm light years away from being that little redheaded kid, but in some ways not so much. I'm still spinning my wheels, feeling at times (much too often) that I must apologize for my decisions, behavior, thought process, etc. My response to situations are so often off base, too passive (by which I mean a withdrawing of myself), or too strident. Is there never to be any in-between?
I'm still in the process of discovering my identity, one which of necessity was splintered into many selves. While I would love to pick the best qualities from each self from which to mold one sure, solid me, I don't know if I've the capacity to do that.
And let's face it, I don't know if I'm allowed to do such an audacious thing.






















