Enough already! I can't take another second of this self imposed strangulation!I've been mulling over the possibilities, start a new blog? Throw myself head first into a bag of something fried and salty? I have grossed mySelf out with this Self censoring. In the shackles of supposed professionalism, I have edited out my unique quirky authenticity. For that I am sorry.
From this day forward. while blogging or otherwise...
I will be honestly irreverent!
I am giving mySelf full permission to be the goofball mystic of my soul's choosing!
I will no longer edit my snarky humor, or creative mumblings....
AAAHHH that feels better.
This permission, reminds me of the day I finally came to terms with being a white girl.
Some of my earliest memories are of deep Caucasian denial.
1) In the horse field with a friend rubbing our limbs down with dark earth and admiring our amazing tans!
2) In preschool using marker (the cinnamon scented kind) to color my skin. I was interrupted by the call to snack before I turned into the bronze Goddess I was creating- I did however lose marker privileges for the remainder of the week.
3) In the bath staring at my oh so mundane pale skin, practicing my illusive super powers, while chanting my first mantra "I am tan, I am tan, I am tan, I am tan, I am tan ( No you are NOT-doh!)
4) Imagining I was the Coppertone girl with her little puppy (remember her?)
The list is longer, and more detailed as I began imagining I was all sorts of exotic beauties. Every race except mine! Remember the first fake tanning lotions? Q2? Nothing says junior high like orange streaky skin!
Or the slippery summers spent slathered in baby oil...brown for a season.
Just a few years ago I fell prey to my siren fantasy again (no really)- this time in the form of a spray tan. Someone tell me why these places are still in business? Never have I scrubbed my elbows, feet, ankles, and wrists sooo long and hard. SCARY! Then as it wore off I just looked dirty, not a glowing woman of color? no not even a tan whitey!
And so, after over 3 decades of racial self struggle. I buckled. I just gave in to what was, what is.
AAAHHhhhhhh that feels better! Accepting me, just as I am.
Let's remind each other: it's perfectly ok to be me...to be you... just as we are!
