the one law iGoddess has always had is, "no censorship -- ever." it has been my guiding light and support from the very first day i set foot in the blogosphere. blogs were still actually kinda new back then. and at first it was the only place i had in my life where i could be completely honest with some of the things that were going on.
sometimes, looking back on that lonely, confused, neglected new wife and mother that wrote her first entry and posted it online with all the trepidation and hope a castaway feels tossing that message in a bottle into the waves, all i can think is, "that poor girl." and when the memories of the Baseball Bat Incident resurfaced after fourteen years of utter burial, the response i received only boosted me up and supported my decision to maintain utter, brutal, and ugly honesty here.
it makes the beautiful things so much brighter...
sometimes i wonder what it is about the whole thing, y'know? i mean, i think i've gained a measure of respect in my little blogging iVillage. there's never judgement, no matter how stark my posts can be. perhaps that says something for getting to know someone online; there's always a measure of distance instead of being a real, solid person standing right before you and into whose eyes you may see the reality of the things mentioned in their blog. and to a point, that's true.
but i had a conversation with someone recently about how people are so busy maintaining their façades and it's the nitty-gritty of life behind the masks that make them real. well, i've made a good habit of being real up here, and working as hard as i can to make the difference between what's up here and what's in the flesh as small as possible. of course, what's up here is sometimes a bit freer with language and opinions, but there's also nothing i've said here that i haven't said in the presence of my family.
i think part of it comes down to vulnerability. long-time readers of iGoddess will find familiar my confused lament about how the unconditional love and acceptance i receive from my family is nonexistant in the wide world of relationships. then again, a small while ago i realized why this is. the first tenet of Witch is "personal responsibility," and if there is a situation or difficulty, we must understand our contribution before we can move towards harmony.
needless to say, mine was not a childhood (or young adulthood) in which vulnerability was encouraged. it was ravenously devoured. i began to hide it. the few times i've played card cames with people who were rather serious about the game have told me that while i might not be the best at cards (i freakin' suck at poker, i swear), i had the best poker face and no tells whatsoever. i've also been told that the only way to know when i'm actually truly, deeply upset is because i give nothing away. the deeper my distress, the calmer i get. my breathing is perfectly even, my face void of expression. these were my defenses against the pain of having my vulnerability exploited.
and yet, with my (adopted) family i am dynamic, soft, vulnerable, and open. there is free communication, respect, and wholehearted acceptance. this is something i thought was isolated to family and which i would never find elsewhere. however, i smashed the glass and hit the Big Red Button that said, "I Change My Mind."
i must also change my Self. when i declared my new aim --to enrich my life with a loving, committed relationship built upon radical intimacy and respect-- i knew i would have to change many things within myself. i have resolved to be more open to chances and opportunity; to be more vulnerable by revealing my thoughts and feelings more; by surrendering to the universe in order to live in the moment and accept what comes; by receiving what people offer me and knowing i am worthy of their affection as a shining being; by trusting; by letting go of fear and knowing i will be unconditionally loved by those worthy of my love.
do you know what i've found so far? *laughs* i'll tell you...
i've found the real me, buried so long ago she was believed lost forever. i've found the freedom to exercise my true nature, which is one of pure love.