Day 152: When Being Who You Are Isn't Enough

Sometimes it’s really hard being me. Not because my life is so bad. I have a roof over my head and food and money for things I want – well, some things I want. No, it’s hard being me because I never learned how to not be me. I am a pot stirrer. I like controversy and am not afraid of confrontation. I believe that getting to know someone is less about who they are socially than it is the things they reveal in quiet moments. I have made some really good friends over the years and they are all incredibly interesting and diverse people. I like to be surrounded by a mix of different philosophies and belief systems. I have also made some enemies, hurt a few people and been hurt by a few more.

It is not easy being me because I live an authentic life. I don’t pretend things I don’t think or feel and I don’t believe you gloss over racism or sexism just because you don’t want to rock the boat. Change happens because that boat gets rocked enough times to make people understand that something different needs to happen. I make some people uncomfortable and I realize that, but just because I’ve come to understand that this is who I am, doesn’t mean I always love it. It would be so nice to just be able to be one of those people who everyone likes all the time. The people that never say or do anything too controversial or out there, they just sort of hug the middle of the road and everyone loves them.

I’m not offensive on purpose. It’s just who I’ve always been. I am 36 years-old and I have been this person for at least 32 of those years. Do you think it’s easy? I would love to change, but it’s not about changing my behavior, it’s about changing who I am. When you judge me for the things I say and do you are judging me as a person and that really hurts. I have not changed. This is the person I was in kindergarten. I have always said what I feel and think, I have always worn my heart on my sleeve, I have always had as many enemies as friends because I do not know how to play the game that you play. This is just me, it’s not an affectation, it’s not an attack on anyone, it’s not a ploy to get attention. Being me is hard and it hurts some days because being me has made a lot of people hate me. I don’t know how I became this person, I just am. The same way that you are who you are.

Life affects us all differently and for whatever reason, my experiences created a person who puts it all out there. I want to be liked. Do you know anyone who doesn’t? I want to be accepted, but at the same time when I am not, rather than fake who I am, I just adopt a “fuck you” attitude. I don’t know how to pretend that I’m like everyone else, I don’t know how to be non-confrontational or to ignore things I disagree with in life. If I think you are being racist or homophobic I will call you on it, and not because I want to make enemies, but because I think it is important. I want people to call me on my shit as well. It’s never easy, but I’d rather someone have a real conversation with me about what they don’t like, than to simply judge me for it.

I am always trying to be a better person, but life is short and in the end is it more important that I’ve entertained you at a party or that I care about the world and refuse to think it’s okay to describe something as “gay”? I cannot be someone I’m not, but it doesn’t mean I always love who I am. This is just what I’ve got and I don’t know how to make it different or better or more acceptable. In hindsight there are always those things that we can say maybe I should not have done or said that thing, but in life it’s not like that. If I don’t ask you to be different than you are, why is okay for you expect me to change? I would if I could, in some ways, I would love to change, but so far all attempts have failed. You may not like who you’re stuck with, but don’t forget that I don’t always like me either. This is all I’ve got though, and I’m sorry that being me isn’t enough for you.

Day 151: Yes, I Have a Big Mouth, but You're an Intolerant Ass

So I took the high road, I stepped back and away for an entire day, keeping my keyboard silent on the subject most in my mind. Today is a new day, however, and it turns out, that while time to think and quiet my mind did indeed lessen both my anger and my depression, it has not lessened my desire to write what I feel. Many times in my life I have been chastened for following my heart and my instincts instead of taking time to think and allowing myself to follow the prudent path. Here’s what I now know, what is prudent for you does not work for me. I am an instinctual, deeply emotional person and while that makes me a little more raw to life’s various injuries and insults, it also makes me an extremely empathetic and caring person. So after taking my 24 hours to step back and let myself process – the wise and prudent path most of you employ – I’m ready to blog. Fuck you. Fuck you and your judgment and your intolerant, short-sighted mind.

Yes, I reveal things that other people feel are private. I point out the illogical, the stupid, the annoying and negative. I am not the sunshine disposition type of person. Not because I don’t have good life, loyal friends and the most loving husband. Not too, because I cannot see the good and beautiful in the world. I see it every time I walk in the woods or take a drive in the country or sit on the beach listening to the surf and tasting that salty breeze. I see and feel every bit of every wonderful thing this world has to offer. It is because I see it, because I am so incredibly in tune with and aware of the majesty this world and it’s creatures have to offer, that I am negative and point out what most of you ignore.

The world is also ugly and contains evil and maliciousness that has seen men drag another man behind a truck until he was dismembered, soldiers serving a noble purpose rape, abuse and haze women or gay service members, global warming, animal extinction, child porn. So really, is it so awful that I am willing to take notice and hope that I can make you also take notice that the world isn’t a big ball of sunshine? I identify myself as atheist. Do you want to know why? It’s not because I am a bad person or think the concept of an omniscient deity is laughable. I am an atheist because I cannot allow myself to believe that ANY entity who has the power to ease even the slightest bit of suffering would allow such horrible acts to keep happening.

I believe in free will and I believe that a deity that would ignore our free will and fix things would be wrong. At the same time, it’s not about free will, why wouldn’t this omniscient being remove whatever mental quirk that produces evil, sadistic bastards in the first place. We’ll still crime, violence, rape, murders all the bad will still exist, but maybe we won’t have Hitler’s or Pol Pot’s. Maybe we’ll just beat the crap out the man who dares to be black instead of dragging him to death behind our redneck pickup truck. For me, the sheer idea that an entity, a God, an energy, whatever you believe in exists and thinks it is okay for man’s will to turn six year-old children into sex slaves is too much for me. I choose to believe there is no God, not because I’m unfeeling and not spiritual. I am an Atheist because it is too horrifically painful to believe that God exists.

I may not be the type of person you want associated with your business, your children, your family or your organization, but I am a person who cares too much and sees the world as it is because I refuse to look away. We live the life that’s easy and I am guilty of that as well, but I refuse to shield myself from what is negative in life because it’s ugly or hard. So you want perfect with a ribbon in my hair too damn bad, but you want real and honest and caring, then I am that person. So in case any of you have forgotten what I blog about, topics that might have made you uncomfortable, issues that you’ve ignored so that you can still read it or like me, let me reeducate you.

I blog about: addiction, religion, politics, genocide, pornography, masturbation, loneliness, depression, childlessness, cheating, lying, flatulence, sex, military, moving, friends, ignorance, intolerance, unemployment, you, childhood, torture, hating people, football, loss, patriotism, boobs, fitness, vacation, self-discovery, homeless, stupidity, boredom, anger and whatever else exists in the world that may be on my mind. I see the same things you see or at least should be seeing. The difference between us, is not that I am aware of them, it is that I feel it is important to point them out. What is it they say, without suffering you cannot appreciate joy? Well, living in your bubble does not mean bad things aren’t happening. Nor does it mean that things simply cease to exist. Yes, I like porn, my husband and I flirted wit the idea of a threesome (though it never even came close to happening), and I hated my Stepfather enough to wish him dead. Guess what, you also have sex, might like porn, have hated, have drank to excess, sometimes say things you shouldn’t, feel sad, think people are stupid and live a real life. I am no different from you except that I admit it. The person you met, you liked, you let inside did not change. What changed is that you found out something that made you uncomfortable. That doesn’t make me wrong, it makes you intolerant and that is on you.

Day 150: They say Patience is a Virtue, We'll See

I must have written ten blogs today. They ranged from self-pitying tomes to angry missives to heartfelt confessions. In the end, I decided to do something that does not come naturally to me, I am going to take a step back and wait. What am I waiting for, you ask? There are only complicated answers to that simple question. The overriding answer is that I am waiting to react. It has been a long day of unwanted surprises and physical setbacks. I am sick and suffering a running injury that makes me feel a lot like a Grandmother who broke her hip. It has not been a great day all around so before I react out of emotion, I’m going to take a deep breath and wait it out.

Very often, I react out of instinct and while heartfelt, it is not always smart and very often leaves out part of the overall picture. I am feeling very judged and perhaps that is my own fault, but it still does not feel good. At low points in our lives it is easy to hide or run and even to make excuses. Today, all of those options are tempting, but I started a journey for a reason and hard as it is to see it through at the moment I am forging forward. I have never been one of those people that took the easy path, although many times that is solely because I could not find the easy road to save my life. Things just don’t happen in a happy go lucky way for me, but that’s okay. I take my beatings and I move along.

Today has been hard mainly because it made me rethink who I am as a person and where I am going with my life. The conclusion I came to, is that I am fairly secure with the knowledge that I know who am I, but I am a little lost in knowing where I fit in the world. It is a lonely feeling and a bit oppressive to be honest. What good is it to find yourself emotionally, if you are lost in the world? This is a question I have struggled with my entire life. Even as a child I was just a little different. When the other girls played with dolls I wanted to climb trees. When the kids played on the playground, I read books. Popular kids in high school were partying and drinking and I thought they were idiots. I just never quite fit in with the established parameters of what it meant to be normal.

I learned early on to shun conformity because I didn’t know how to conform. Unfortunately sometimes in life it is helpful to go with the flow, but I guess since I didn’t know how to do that I chose instead to flaunt what a great swimmer I am to always be swimming upstream. I have a lot to write, but my emotions and thoughts are moving in ten different directions, so I will be patient and maybe just float downstream for a while. It’s times like this I envy some of my less emotional or deep friends. Maybe life really is more pleasant and easy to navigate when you stop asking questions, stop pushing the envelope. I’d like to say I’ll find out, but who am I kidding, I’ll never be one of the happy followers on the road to a normal life. I’m just built for the path less traveled.

Day 149: At Least Mom Wouldn't Laugh at Me

Why is it when we are sick, no matter how old me might be, we still want our Moms? I trust that you are of average to superior intelligence and therefore can infer from the previous line that I am feeling slightly to incredibly under the weather. I do not get sick often, but when I do, I am of the horrifically ugly, incompetent, hazy, mucous laden, grumpy and whiny. You would think this makes the husband something of a saint for putting up with me, but that delicate flower is the one who picks up every illness known to man and brings it home to me. I get sick on my own maybe once a year, but with the strong, macho Army husband around, I end up sick whenever he ventures out in public and brings back the sniffles.

So it is with great disappointment that I currently find myself about 12 hours into some sure to be nasty and prolonged illness that I’ve contracted on my own. Sadly, I have neither my husband, nor my Mother to whine and nag into bringing hot tea and juice and OTC meds. I do not remember being such a baby about illness ten years ago. On the contrary, I worked through it and rarely popped so much as a Tylenol, but these days I am worse than a toddler or your husband.

The only positive that comes from an extended illness is a lack of appetite. I figure if I’m going to feel like crap I might as well lose a couple of pounds. I had food poisoning to such an extent that I actually fainted in my husband’s arms as he was helping me from bathroom to the bedroom. The sickness part sucked, but I lost six pounds in two days. I’m still a girl, so I kinda think it was worth it. This time around, I happen to be sick just as I’ve got two jobs to work on, and several projects in the works. In addition, my body’s desire to remain soft and squishy despite my best efforts to slim and tone, I have a work out related injury.

Perhaps you’ve heard of the IT band? No? Well that let me educate you. The IT band is a thick band of tissue that runs from the hip down to the knee. Some excessive running of sprints has caused severe pain on my right side. I took five days off and tied again today, toughing it out for 45 minutes before doing what I would consider to be a fairly graceful fall off the treadmill. Thankfully, some time in the steam room loosened me up enough to put my heels back on and limp to the car. So here I am, some sort of upper respiratory perched for a takeover of my body and a right leg that only hurts if I move it. I’m not sure Mom can help, but at least I know she wouldn’t make fun of me for that whole treadmill incident.

Day 148: Would You Let Your Employer Read Your Blog?

It’s true I have a very limited filter on what I put out into the world. I spent a long time being afraid of who I am and feeling inferior and bitter because of it. These days, I like myself more and more and I’m no longer willing to sacrifice who I am for the sake of making others more comfortable. There are some limits I firmly believe in protecting. One of which is the Facebook/Employer division. FB is a social networking site, with the emphasis on social. Friends, loved ones and those who are not easily offended are on my FB page. Colleagues or employers who are not friends outside of work, however, are not privy to the FB page, for that we use professional networking sites like LinkedIn. My blog on the other hand, is different and yes, I’d love to tell you why.

Facebook is fun, it’s a time waster and it’s mostly done in jest. Who I am has nothing to do with FB, except for my foul mouth which makes an appearance on my page occasionally. My blog is kind of my comedic journal, I do write about extremely personal things, but I am still mindful that I have an audience so I never write anything I wouldn’t be comfortable telling you to your face. The lack of filter is part of who I am in print or in person, just as the political and social causey side of me is always on display. Am I capable of professional behavior? Absolutely, but I left that world for a reason, it’s not really who I am. I’m a creative type and hiding from that in corporate jobs only hinders my growth as a writer.

I just got a new job and because down the road it may include opportunities for me to write, I passed on my blog site to my employers during the interview process. I made it clear that the writing is very specific, but that what they should take away is my tone. Either they chose not to read it or they read it and liked it enough to hire me, because I got the job. I have a rather conservative friend, whose judgment I trust, but we are very different people. She dislikes discussions that are political or forces one to take sides and of course I love them. After finding out I passed along my blog, she was speechless and I understand why, I certainly would not want the HR director at Bank of America reading it, but that’s a different type of job.

I need to work and I want a career, but not at the expense of hating who I am and what I do. My new company is a labor of love for the small group of people who founded it and have been responsible for its growth over the last four years. This is not a job, it’s a family and while I am an employee, I will also be working very closely with people who care as much about this company as they do anything else in their lives. I took that into consideration at the interview stage and when I decided to let them read my blog. This is who I am, it’s not all of me, some things get held back, but it speaks to a side of myself that believes more in interconnectedness than polite distance.

If you are going to hire me to work on your baby, then wouldn’t you prefer to know who you’re letting in your house underneath the professional demeanor and suit that any potential applicant can wrap themselves in? You may not get the conservative business woman when you hire me, but if you like who meet and the woman you get to know, then what you’re getting is not going to be a surprise. Just like the real me, my blog isn’t everyone’s tastes and despite my willingness to share very intimate details of my life and I am still usually wise enough to discern when professional behavior is more appropriate than a more personable approach. Then again, if I suddenly get fired before I even really start it might be because they discover the blogger in me and they didn’t like. Life is risk and I’m okay with that.

Day 147: "I Like Football" is not a Euphemism for "I Want You"

Hello. My name is Ame. I watch football at pubs and get inappropriately drunk and talk shit to every opposing fan in earshot. I also am here to dispense advice to lovelorn men attached to disinterested females who accompany them to sports bars despite not being interested in football or them. From time to time, I will avail my services to girls who want to complain about their super hot boyfriends who don’t get them and if pressed, I will also let the drunken stranger who wants to buy the “Steelers girl whose husband is in Iraq” a drink. Wait, is it “whose” or “who’s” I never know that one. Anyway, the point I am trying to make is that I am sufficiently intoxicated and finding other people amusing; well some are amusing, some are annoying.

Loving football as a girl is always interesting. There are those who take me at face value, happy to discuss the Vikings pass rush or Arizona offense seemingly without noticing that I have boobs. I like these guys, though they tend to be either foreign or older gents. Then there are the guys who are surprised to discover I actually know what I’m talking about and vacillate between humoring my football knowledge and making thinly veiled innuendo about how I could be a cheerleader or that I really fill out the numbers on my jersey. Finally, we have the group who does not pretend to have any interest in my football knowledge or advice for their women issues. This group just strikes head on with their lamest one liner, usually something to do with tight ends and blitzing.

Yes, football and alcohol breed a particular type of man and he’s usually one that doesn’t quite understand himself. Luckily, football and alcohol breeds one type of Ame and she’s pretty much oblivious to anything not related to the game. So feel free to bring on your dumbest attempts at wooing me, lamest sexual come-ons and most pointless comments about my being lonely since the husband is out of the country. Drunk or not, I pretty much come away from every football Sunday with one point of view, the games were good and the guys were not. Believe it or not, I’m actually just in it for the drinks, football and conversation about drinks and football. I realize I have tits and wear lipgloss and therefore it’s hard to understand this, but sometimes a high five is just a high five. Though if I chest bump you, feel free to read into it at will.