The Old Me.

I miss the old me.

The one who really didn’t care what anyone thought.

The one who exuded so much self confidence that she wore it like shield.

The one who knew who she was or, at least, how to balance who everyone needed to be.

She was so many things. She was skinny. She was assertive. If people treated her like shit, she said fuck ’em because, well, she didn’t care – no one was really close to her. And that was how she preferred it.  She knew when to hold her tongue, she knew when not to, and she knew how to make sure those around her stayed whole even if it was at her own expense.

I kinda miss her.

She expected nothing. She didn’t get hurt because you can’t get hurt if someone isn’t within striking distance to hurt.  She did it all – and was wore all the faces she needed to wear to make it good.

But then, she dropped her guard. She let people see who was behind that person.  She was vulnerable. She wasn’t perfect.  She was human and not Wonder Woman.  And, well…..she got burned.

She realized how many people would never be there for her as she was for them.

She realized how many people expected her to play her role silently which meant she supported without support.

She realized that asking was the only way to get what she wanted. And when asking failed, she had to be even more vocal – even more assertive – than she was used to being – to be listened to.

She realized, from that, that it was easier to advocate for others but much harder (on so many levels) to advocate for herself.

And she was hurt and burned and punished for being that person.

Brene Brown has made a name for herself by talking about how vulnerability is perceived as weakness but is actually strength.  She has talked about how we all need to change our thinking to get to a place where we really can grow – vs taking the safe (non-vulnerable) way out.

Yet, it didn’t matter – it sucks being vulnerable.  Sucks being demanding. Sucks expressing the feelings I would normally repress.  And sucks realizing she cannot be who everyone wants her to be.  And sucks even more worrying that people cannot accept the change of who she is.

I don’t have many friends left.  I don’t have many people that seem to be able to understand I cannot be that girl who was.  I cannot be this compartmentalized person who worries more about others and their needs than she does herself.  And I cannot be in one sided relationships.

I fear it means I lose everyone.

I fear it means I will be alone.

But as things shift – as things change – I am left wondering who I am – what I want to be – and how can I feel happy while staying true to who I am.

Because what I do realize is this – I don’t feel happy much anymore. I don’t have those goofy moments where I laugh  – a laugh that is from deep within.  I don’t feel good about who I am.

I’m too fat. I’m too demanding. I’m too opinionated. I’m too much of something someone hates.

That’s all that I hear.

And because that wall is down – my hard candy shell is no more – I struggle. I struggle to find my place. I struggle to find my value. I struggle to feel good about me.

I struggle to love the person that is me because it doesn’t feel like that me is worth love, let alone my love.

And that makes me miss the old me.

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