Lost Girl

WordPress is getting a new editor, and I’m getting a new outlook on life. I’m not sure the second is a good thing. See, somehow I need to dig out the person that is me from under layers of beliefs about how bad that person is.

No fun, but I know the consequences if I don’t. Problem is I don’t know the consequences if I do. So, yeah, this is short, and to the point, and that’s today so far.

1 thought on “Lost Girl”

  1. Before beginning the descent into oblivion in which I was engaged when we met, I was moneyed and spending it with abandon on – brace yourself -cosmetics and jewelry. After moved beyond stuffed animals and other toys, I was floundering wildly trying to find a feminine identity that was less painful than the reality of knowing that I was soon to go from being a wife to being a widow. I was even grasping for a name. My birth name was out. My childhood nickname was only comforting for a short while. The first three letters of my birth name worked for awhile, and I reclaimed that iteration after the worst of my identity crisis burned itself out. But the lost girl was still there, screening in pain, sobbing in fear, haunting me. So I went all biblical and now have as good an umbrella name as I think I need.

    After Naomi was widowed, then her sons died, leaving her daughters-in-law widows, as well, life seemed so bleak for her that she asked that she no longer be called Naomi (pleasant), but Mara (bitter or very sad). Then the narrator proceeded to ignore her wish and continued calling her Naomi, kind of like people who persist in calling someone by their deadname.

    I’m having better luck with Mara than she. And it’s having one of the desired effects: reminding me that bitterness serves no good purpose, and sadness passes. Reverse psychology, an oldie but goodie.

    And the little girl still weeps, as needed, but is learning how to smile without coercion and rarely screams. Love is edging out fear. Life is…dare I say…sweet, despite its opposition and emotional tides. The battle I’ve waged against myself for as long as I can remember is in peace negotiations. And you’ve helped more than I can articulate.

    Thank you. Keep being wonderful – full of wonder.

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