In Greek Mythology, there is a story of a woman named Pandora. She was a woman of seduction, and had received a large jar and the instructions from Zeus to keep it closed. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she opened it. This action is said to have brought forth all sorts of evils and pestilence. But it is also said that at the bottom of the jar (or box) lay hope.
I am feeling a little Pandora-esque today.
I realize that I have no boundaries when it comes to writing. I also realize that not all of my readers may be comfortable about the things I have written about this past week. But you have no idea the amount of courage I had to muster to get these things out in the open. And how much it is going to help me grow.
It has thrown my world into a bit of a tailspin. My readers have quintrupled. Some of those closest to me are concerned about me making something so personal so public. People at work have approached me about it. My ex’s family is “outraged at the allegations.” All I have to say?
Deal with it.
I have unleashed a veritable can of whoop-ass on myself with all of the feathers I have ruffled with my Coming Out and Pretty Wings entries.
But guess what? No matter, no mind. Because first and foremost this is about my own personal journey, demons, and healing.
So let me fill you in on the past few days. Since those two entries, I have received tons of feedback. Some good. Some not so good. Some real. Some crock.
But of course I’m kicking myself because of my honesty the past few days. And by kicking I mean medicating.
I won’t go into the gruesome details.
But basically if I have been able to get my hands on it, it has been eaten. Or smoked. Or limed, salted, and shot.
I have no idea how I got here. How I am so f%&#ed up that I can’t be close to anyone without medicating with whatever substance is available?
Feeling naked in front of your readers?
Eat a cheesecake.
Feeling uncomfortable in the gaze of someone who really knows you?
Have a few shots of tequila.
Unable to talk to your co-worker about the ghosts of your past?
Sneak outside for a smoke break.
Or even better yet?
Get over yourself.
I’ve always thought that my greatest fear and subsequent pain was because of loneliness. The absence of romantic love in my life. My inability to allow myself to be truly known.
Horseshit.
The truth is that my greatest fear is being known and rejected. Sure it’s hard to put yourself out there, and have the person say “no thanks.” But how much harder is it to put yourself out there in honesty, have the naked truth out there, and then be rejected?
Perhaps all of these insecurities don’t fit into your box for me.
That’s okay.
I’ve got Pandora. And remember what was at the bottom?
Hope.
And thankfully for me, and all of us, hope tends to float up.
I’m counting on it.
