Tuesday, March 8, 2011
How do you admit to a feeling you're ashamed of? How about a feeling you're afraid of? Or a feeling that isn't anger but makes you angry?
I have two strong emotional reactions that I'm battling. They are distinct and separate, yet communicate frequently and are perpetually influenced by the other. On one end of the cable there's a terribly anxious, seemingly desperate, young woman trying to repress the awful feeling that is so guilt-worthy it makes her stomach twirl. And across the cable is a romantic, carefree, passionate gal terrified to confess the beautiful sensations that peep through her skeptical mind. Each girl instigates the other, fighting for complete control of the vessel (me), all the while doing so without permission. I'm tired of being ruled by my emotions. It's exhausting. I want to possess just enough moxie to straight up say what I want to say to the person I want to say it to. But I'm afraid because the anxieties that ride along side this gesture are terrifyingly powerful. All I can disclose is this: If I say anything at all, to you, or anyone, I will lose the confidence vote. I will lose myself. I'll have nothing reserved for later. No wild card. No secret weapon. No power, or adequacy, or sway, or warrant, or dominion. And I know that matters of the heart should be free of prestige and jurisdiction. Matters of the heart are not matters of game or politics. I know this, but I still keep my most valuable piece to myself, waiting for the right time to expose it. Moving forward is a virtue for most, but for me, it's frightening. So, this is why I proceed with caution. This is why I'm lagging behind. I can only hope that I don't get left behind.