Friday, January 29, 2016
Hello there, strangers. I have missed this. I have thought about writing a blog on multiple occasions and for whatever reason, I didn't do it. Actually, I know why I didn't do it. I didn't do it because I feared the judgment that I too often place on so many others who do write blogs. Judgment that says "That person is screaming for attention" or "They think what they have to say is valuable enough that they need to share it with the world". Well, all of that might be true. But when I write, I feel at peace. I feel liberated and free and honest and true to myself. Maybe because I'm getting it out there. It's a way for me to reach out to people when I have no other means to do so. It's a way for me to share my thoughts and experiences in hopes that it resonates with someone else. And I think that might be the case for other writers too. Is it sometimes selfish and prideful? Sure it is. Sometimes I just need to get something off my chest. But I think that's okay. Everyone writes for different reasons. And everyone needs a little pick me up now and then - sometimes that comes in the form of someone else's words and sometimes that comes in the form of knowing that by your words, you have impacted or inspired someone else.
Okay, now the "sorry-I-haven't-been-here-in-a-while" monologue is over.
Let's talk about underwear.
I have been feeling a bit off lately and it hit me recently that I feel like an accessory in my own life. And accessories are great for us women. They can add such character to an outfit, can be a fun way to express our personalities and styles, and dress up an otherwise plain closet. But an accessory without a base layer is not very useful. Not in everyday life at least. Everyone wants the outfit first, then adds the accessory on later. Sometimes we choose not to accessorize and just have our plain clothes on. Sometimes we're just not in the mood to be fabulous.
Unless you are Scottish and go commando underneath your kilt (hellooo Jamie Fraser from Outlander), everyone needs and chooses to wear underwear. It's a fundamental piece of any outfit, yet one that is not (or rather should not be) seen. It's a base layer and most of us would not choose to go without it. We put it on every morning before anything else, without even thinking about it. It becomes a piece of us. Most of us would choose a good, clean pair of underwear over an accessory any day.
I want to be someone else's underwear.
I want to be that favorite pair of briefs. And I don't necessarily mean for a man. I mean those relationships where you are first, you are automatically chosen, you fit comfortably, you are a base layer for someone. You are happy to be hidden behind the scenes because you know you are loved and wanted and secure. This can come in the form of a spouse, sure, but also a child, a friend, or even a cat or a dog. When my Kenna cat was still alive, this desire was at least partially fulfilled because she needed me to keep her alive. And I think I needed her just as much. Now I just have a kumquat tree and a rose bush to worry about, and quite honestly, they manage keeping themselves alive quite well.
What's the problem with being an accessory in your own life?
I don't think that we are meant to be accessories. In some people's lives, sure. We can't be underwear for everyone. But when we are always an accessory, I believe it's time to rethink things. I believe that we are meant to be someone else's underwear. And I think that other people aren't meant to be underwear for us as well.
I think I'm an amazing accessory. But I'm an accessory partly (okay, mostly) because of my own doing. I'm an introvert, I don't like big crowds of people whom I'm not familiar with. I like my small close-knit group of friends. But sometimes those groups change and when I don't go with the flow and adjust to the changes, I become an accessory. And often times, I think I have a hard time letting someone else be my underwear.
I don't really feel like I fit in anywhere in my life right now. I feel like I'm "nice to have" but not mandatory. I might dress up an occasion or add some flair to something, but I'm not a staple. I'm not the underlying foundation for anything or anyone right now. I am nobody else's underwear. I'm nobody's "go-to" person. And I don't think this is a good place to be. It's hard. I feel worn out and replaceable. Like that old pair of underwear that you have held on to for too long and finally decide it's time to throw away because the holes are too numerous and are embarrassing to look at in your own mirror? Yeah, that's me.
I think we all have this innate, guttural desire to be needed. Whether, as I mentioned earlier, the need comes from a spouse, family, friends, children, even a cat or dog. Underwear is needed. Accessories are optional. I want to be someone else's underwear. I don't know what that looks like for me and I don't know when or if it will happen, but gosh, I'm tired of being an accessory.
Does this resonate with anyone else? Am I out on my own island here? I look around me and it seems as if everyone else is underwear. Maybe all of this is coming about now because I'm about to have yet another birthday. I used to love my birthdays and celebrate them, now they are a little less exciting to celebrate. I don't want a pity party nor do I desire anyone in my life to act differently. What I desire is to have that innate, guttural desire to be needed, satisfied. And I think that happens naturally, not with effort. You can't convince someone else that you are their underwear. It just happens. So I will sit and wait and dream about the day when I get to be a nice pair of briefs for someone else. In the meantime, I will continue to be your favorite pair of earrings or even that handbag that brightens up your day.