The wrong capacity

how is it that I have more capacity to:

feel more pain than joy?

cry more tears than smile?

hang my head more than walk confidently?

want to scream more than laugh?

be out of sorts more than together?

dislike myself rather than like who I am?

be more distrusting than trusting?

heart broken

It hurts.

Memories.

Past pains.

Realizations.

I could cry myself to sleep.

I just remember how I wasn't enough.

How I couldn't be enough.

I was physically, emotionally and mentally incapacitated.  So, wouldn't anyone reach out to have their needs met by another?  Isn't that just natural?  Whatever it is, it is still hurtful, awfully, painful.

Even more the realization of you're the reason your love felt the need to look elsewhere for support, because you couldn't give it to him...hurts my heart so.

20+10

This week has been my birthday week. I turn 30 on Friday. I asked Donald last year to plan a huge bash for me. Apparently, he listened and now has been planning a party for the past few months. He's been working so incredibly. hard, both literally, and figuratively. I have felt so loved this week. He's given me a gift every day and really loved me well. 

I feel refreshed, taken care of and new. Something is changing and it is amazing. 

It's my last day in my 20s and I am ready to turn over this new leaf. It's Fall. It's a new season. Bring on 30.

xoxo

1

Is it fair for me to want to be the only One?

A No-Win

I constantly set myself up by putting myself in no-win situations.

For instance, my idea of beauty. 

tall(er/than me)+thin(ner/than me)=beautiful. 

Now, how does that become a no-win? 

I will never be taller AND thinner. 

Unless my idea of beauty changes, I'll never be beautiful.

in-se-cure

in·se·cure

  

adjective

1.

subject to fears, doubts, etc.; not self-confident or assured

2.

not confident or certain; uneasy; anxious

3.

not secure; exposed or liable to risk, loss, or danger

4.

not firmly or reliably placed or fastened

The other woman. Her. That girl. The one who just walked by. That girl on the billboard. The one in the commercial. The women at church. That girl you work with. The memory of some old girlfriend. That lady who was sweet to you in the store. The girl that smiled at you. My best friend. That guy's daughter. That girl on that one T.V. show. Victoria's Secret. Magazines. The soccer mom across the field. The cheerleaders at the games you work. The girl who touches you in passing and it makes you uncomfortable but you don't say anything. Youtube. Movies. Waitresses. Dreams. The sultry voice of that one musician. Your best friend's wife.

My insecurities pan throughout the spectrum.  For the most part, I am insecure the moment I walk into another room with females, or when my husband has contact with them. My trigger goes off to everything I am not and to everything they are. I think in my head, in some twisted way, that my husband desires what they are and 99.99% of the time I am nothing like them. They're taller, thinner, light headed, etc. It undoes me.

I have to either space out and disconnect or constantly be telling myself the opposite of what I'd be naturally (wrongly) thinking, CONSTANTLY. If I let up for a second, it's over. How freaking exhausting is that? How exhausting is it to continually be assaulted this way: mind f*cked over and over and over again with little to no reprieve?