I just really wanted to talk about his before I head out.
I am considered a very attractive woman, intelligent, educated, spiritually gifted and all around nice-lean-on-me kind of woman.
I see myself as okay, I hide my intellect, don’t talk about my schooling, keep my gifts to myself and I give the painted mask version of nice-lean-on-me.
It doesn’t matter that so many people have called me attractive. What matters is that a man could choose to rape me for and a woman could hate me for it. So I cover it up as best I can.
It doesn’t matter that I can talk about black holes, politics and really any subject you can think of. What matters is that a people will call me out for being boring, narcissistic and in some cases cut me down so that we are ‘on the same level’. “Don’t hurt my ego by being better than me!” Same goes for my schooling.
My spiritual gifts are different however, they are either used and abused till there is nothing left of me or they are poo poo-ed like they don’t exist or any number of excuses.
My real niceness can be intense and seem like stalking. It ain’t but when you have a special gift for someone and it is their favorite that they mentioned 5 years ago one time and you remembered simply because that is how your brain works and how your mother taught you to love people, they can get weirded out instead of feel loved.
For a long time I hated everything about me because I was always ‘too much’. I was too pretty, too happy, too smart, too sensitive, etc. So I crafted a persona based on about 5 women. This lady was the best at what she did, a host extraordinaire, ever-listening ear, always keeping others in mind while staying tuned to ministry and a real hard worker.
Amazing how quickly I burnt out after high school. I was like a zombie that year. College was no different, I got out and was burnt after too. There were days that I have no recollection of how I go to the end of them. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually I was so burnt out because I was trying to be 5 different women. Being me was a faux pas you see, but at least these women were respected. So I became respected, but it wasn’t at all me so I wonder now if it even counts.
Me, now…who I am truly….I don’t want to hate me. None of me. *scratches head* I just don’t know how to not hate on myself…