As a child, “Carol” said I was very quiet. Being the baby of four, with a very caring and overprotective “Greg” as our oldest, talking wasn’t necessary. “Bea,” my grandmother, said someone lifted the rock off me around age 10-12 and I never shut up. Well, unfortunatey for others, it isn’t any different and I’m 38.
I’m also loud. Something I actually dislike about myself but have never been able to control. Over the years, I’ve gotten in trouble from teachers, employers, family, and many more for the volume of my voice. It’s embarrassing and shameful. I plan to work on that more.
However, I’m also “loud” with my language. Delivery. Definitely unconventional for a female. Yes, sexist, I know, but it is society’s preconceived notions, not mine. I believe in honesty; no bullshit. I also have a “foul mouth,” according to “Carol.” I understand it is “Carol’s” generation and I do my best to respect that when I’m around her. But, this is me. Colorful language and brutal honesty is part of who I am.
I’m not a registered voter, nor will I ever be; politicians are puppets. I never cared about trends, still could give two shits. I don’t believe in plastic surgery because I believe this is what we were all given, for a reason. I don’t care what kind of car I drive or purse I carry. I don’t wear expensive clothing. I don’t need or particularly want elaborate vacations. I rarely watch tv.
As long as my bills are paid and kids are well taken care of, I have never needed much, even as a child; values instilled by “Mike.” My brothers were raised much differently than “Jan” and I. We were spoiled and still hear about it. However, I never asked for or required much. “Jan’s” soccer career was a financial sacrifice for my parents for several years, along with her very demanding lifestyle and our private education. Me…I was happy with the hand-me-downs and borrowing my big sister’s name-brand clothes; ended up going to public school. As you can imagine, critics found me an easy target for not falling in with the crowd, ever since I was a child. Sadly, I still get it at my age. Pathetic, I know this.
But, I prefer comfortable clothes and no make-up. I bought the home I grew up in and it’s like a castle, to me. I love music; it feeds the soul. My ideal vacation has no schedule or plan and consists of a road trip, anywhere. I have tattoos and each one tells a story; I view them as art. Nature is a must; it re-energizes the soul. I love books and art and writing. Really, all the simple things in life.
I’m extremely different than anyone in the “Brady” bunch. I noticed it during high school but my brothers were already gone and as long as I stayed out of trouble and brought home straight “As,” it was one less thing for my parents to worry about. I only cared about pleasing them; sought “Mike’s” approval until just this year.
When I moved away to college, I finally had the freedom and reign to be “Meg.” That was one glorious year but also detrimental to my soul. “Bea” passed and I became angry with the whole world for a while. Reading The Celestine Prophecy changed so much for me. Opened my eyes to the universe and the roles it plays. Ironically, I find myself reading it, yet again, for the umpteenth time.
During this journey of rediscovery, my family and friends have questioned so much about ME. Fault of my own since I suppressed who I really was for so many years. Few, though, have said how nice it is to finally see the “old Meg” again; the one from high school and college. And, that is inspiring to hear because she was fearless. Zealous. Happy. Knew who she was, even among a sea of followers. Proud to stand out; back then she embraced the hell out of it.
Well, I’ve said I’m back. But, now with vengeance. Spirit. Confidence. Will. Discipline. Persistence.
Criticism is exhausting. Draining to the soul, heart, and mind. And, I’m done playing victim to it. As I practice mindfulness, I hope to grow every day. It is an ongoing process in today’s world with so many different personalities and fucking expectations. But, I won’t allow myself to feel bad. I have to be the one to make conscious choices in order to achieve that.
Regrettably, some will choose to stick around and others won’t. Some already have created plenty of distance for me to understand where they lie. That’s okay. I’m slowly starting to accept this, even if it hurts like hell.
We are all on our own path, living our own journeys. I’m choosing to live mine one day at a time. I want to relish in the simple moments. Enjoy life and what this amazing world has to offer.
Possibilities are infinite with opportunities in abundance, as long as you seek them. Just because I am a mother and currently have a conventional job, doesn’t mean the world isn’t my oyster, too. My once, over-the-top dreams have now become goals and I plan to enjoy the fucking ride.
Life is meant to be LIVED.