Senior year blues- Mom style

One of my favorite memories of the beginning of the school year is:

Sophomore year

We just registered her for classes and were hunting down her locker.

She runs into a couple friends and their lockers are near each other.

One girl bends down, can't get her locker open....

Kaylana says" I got this, I always get it first try"

Her friends joke that she can do anything.

Kaylana jokes back " yeah, I kinda run this school"

Much to my surprise these sweet little girls, part of her social structure I am not a part of at all say

" yeah, she really does"

What an amazing gift to give a parent, the gift of knowledge that she just doesn't struggle in the cut throat jungle high school can be!!

Love you be you

This week has provided some clarity for me. I am getting back to a place where I make the difference in my own life. It makes me happy to help others, to make others feel good about themselves and their accomplishments. I can combat the anger and negativity around me better when I rely on my own strengths to shield me from their weakness and inability to see light when it is in their lives.

We are so fortunate and so blessed in this life.

I won't be dragged down by those who can't see that!! 

Sad

Fighting off the blues. I intend to leave them behind with this week. 

I found a pic of me as a toddler, who puts sadness in their child's eyes at such a young age? 

Why do I feel I knew life was going to be a hard fought journey even then? 

I never remember a carefree time, I always looked at others with doubt and an inability to understand behaviors that did nothing but encourage pain and sorrow.

It is a large burden to give your all to loved ones and never know if it will be returned.

This mask constricts, this game grows old, but I hope, each day a part of the brightness will dull the cold that exists and tries to eliminate the beauty.

It's time for me

Tell me what it is you see those random times you look at me

The looks I catch are cruel, such judging coming from you

How dare you think you see the inside part of me

The cold outside view is what you want, you all seem to

Fitting is all that counts and in this tiny little fish pond that means being angry, small minded and cruel

I tried to shut out my light, I fit in during the day but couldn't live with myself at night

What do I trade? I won't be the me the rest of the world thinks they see

I am beautiful, caring, fierce in my love, determined, silly, funny and perfect in my quest to constantly improve on what needs improving. 

It's time for me

Sigh

I don't want a soulless existence. One where my senses are dulled in order to cope with the constant feeling of being in survival mode.

Trapped like a cornered animal, not able to affect change for myself or the people I care about.

But when I do care and become concerned with injustice I find myself in a position to be ridiculed for it. 

I will never be the type to sit back and watch while bullies push others around just because they can.

And I certainly won't sit back and watch it be me that is bullied.

How sad

I am content with my station in life. I love my Children, friends, my job. I don't need a lot more and tend to offer any excess that I have to others. 

Giving feels good. Monetary goods, token of affection, advice,knowledge, my words. 

Aside from the few close to me I find the extent of these humble gifts go unnoticed. Which makes me sorrowful. 

Should someone brighten my day by a comment or gesture, I savor it like a treasure.

How sad that my lesson is to stop being who I am, to avoid allowing others to see me for who I am, to avoid giving small gestures that make me happy. 

Those that hurt, hurt deep and make caution the order of the day. How sad.

Private war

My whole life I have been quiet, watching life from afar, sensing right from wrong, building a code of ethics on my own. Piecing together a complicated rule book for entry into my private world.

As a child few managed to solve the riddles it takes to gain access. As protection I kept my face in a book and my head down. 

I don't remember peace, but the quest has been strong and consuming.

With time comes responsibility, and choices box us into the next phase of life.

I found out at only 17 that masks are an easy fit, invisible but necessary to swim through the throngs of strangers that pass in and out of daily life.

And I found out I have talent for hiding myself behind those protective shields. They give me courage to fight for what is right with my head held high and the doubt I feel inside hidden from view.

Rule number one is not to lie to myself and taken to the extreme no one has ever been as hard on me as I am. 

Petrified of being judged it is almost impossible to find fault in me that I don't already perceive to be true. 

Rule number two, once chosen for my inner circle you will be treated with kindness, interest and respect. 

Rule number three has no room for compromise, and with all my being I wish it were not so. All wrongs must be made right. 

Why I appointed myself champion of others who won't help themselves is beyond me.

Who am I to deal out the verdict of right from wrong?

Peace would be minding my own business, leaving well enough alone, just being me.

But the heartache I feel when a bully hurts another person because they can or life is unfair because people won't choose a path that should be followed is too strong.

So peace is sacrificed and the small acknowledgments of thanks for making a difference to a life are enough.

Maybe time will find me in a position to ease up on myself and remove a mask or two, but it hasn't happened yet.