Quote:
Originally Posted by labete
One thing I want is to be good at standing up for myself, standing firm but being open to the possibility that I was wrong or misinformed or that another perspective would be more beneficial to me. I saw my beloved sister e doing this in a way that I found to be simultaneously strong and gentle, firm but open, and adopted her as a role model for that. I'm still very much working on this and other personal growth goals, but it's a lot easier for me personally to grow toward a positive than away from a negative.
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It touched me so much to come across this. When I think about it now, I've watched you become someone who protects herself more fiercely when necessary and more firmly all the time. You are not someone for whom the lesson of boundary maintenance is on eternal repeat (unless it is and you've managed to hide this from me terribly well). I've watched you, even recently, setting boundaries with those you love even when it pains you. I marvel at your strength as much as your stamina.
When I think of you, it is your openness, the generosity of your love, and the way that you are dedicated to improving yourself - and that you DO - that inspires me. All of these things, naturally, have benefited me in some way, and so you see here that I am selfish compared to you. It's what I see about you that makes me more in love with you all the time, as my friend and as my sister. It's the part of you I wish would rub off a little. I want to be the kind of friend that you deserve.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Medusa
I caught myself as I was sitting in the bathroom messing with my hair getting all nervous and jerky. There were a million thoughts running through my head. A million pieces of anger and sadness and joy and resentment and disappointment and love and hate.
And there I was, this thing in a gold lame' dress, covered from head to toe in glitter, wearing gold gogo boots and I felt shiny and starry and new and bright and enormous (not size-wise, but spirit-wise), because I had maintained myself at multiple points during the weekend when there were some shitty situations in my face.
I looked at myself in the mirror and knew that I was the woman that *I* thought I was and not the woman that *they* thought I was.
And by god, was I fucking fabulous.
So I sat down and scribbled out my rage, leaning in an uncomfortable chair and pumping my body into that writing like I was playing a piano. Hard and fast and racing the clock.
And when I performed, I spoke to not just my Momma, but to the people in that room that were part of that hole. The people who let me down. The people who hurt me. The people who betrayed my love for them.
I let go of all of it in front of that crowd in Dallas and nobody but me knew it.
I guess you could say that I forced everyone into my masturbatory therapy - but really, isnt that what all poetry is on some level.
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And they are still there. About a million carats worth.
<3
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Yes. It is a kind of masturbatory therapy, and as such, I submit that more of us should be doing more of it more of the time.
Certainly, by the sound of it, you should. Just look at the afterglow from that one, sugar.