life as i know it

"...everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." -Sylvia Plath

Monday, December 12, 2005

could you...

“Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that – I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much – so very much to learn…”
-The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath-

I am constantly reminded of how much left there is to learn in this world, in myself. And despite my colossal ignorance, I ache to be loved for me, for who I am now, a woman of both ideals and despair, a woman with so much left to learn. I yearn for these very parts of me, the unfinished pieces and immature unknowing aspects, to be loved. I crave recognition of the very core of who I am. I don’t ask for agreement, only acceptance, an attempt to understand, and the ideal that someone, somewhere, does understand. And yet these desires occur in a state of irony, amidst an internal battle of embracing my connections with others and the fears of revealing my naked soul. I wonder sometimes how raw and honest I can be about myself, with myself, with others. Honesty is often ugly and brutal and murderous, and so most in this world walk around covered in cloaks of disguise, wearing masks that have been worn for so long, too long. Masks, that should they be removed, might reveal unrecognizable faces or perhaps the absence of a face at all. I try to only wear my mask when it must be worn, in those times in which reality tells of the disturbing chaos that would result should I shed my mask. But there are times, even then, when I ache to rip off that mask and show my true face to the world, to myself. Times when I stifle the urge to scream and cry and expose the darkest secrets I hide even from myself. Times when desperation comes, when I need to tell the story of my anger and grief and guilt and disappointments.

But if I told you…could you understand me a little, love me a little?


At 3:14 AM, Blogger Sky said...

I could. I do.

At 3:13 PM, Blogger georgiacoast said...

It is an awesome feeling to feel something as you read it. I feel this.

love, Jeff.

At 8:35 PM, Blogger Jessie said...

I often think that writing is the greatest healer. In the process of putting words to paper we come to better understand our inner selves; but in the sharing we come to realize that we're not alone.

Anyway, perfect people are boring. :)-

At 11:07 AM, Blogger Tammy said...

We all need validation, but if we show who we really are we may be judged. I think it's worth it to rip off the mask and see who loves us anyway. It's scary but you can be free!

At 2:33 AM, Blogger Wenda said...

I, too, ache to be known and loved. I ache even more to be trusted with the naked truth of another and to be worthy of that trust.

At 7:59 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have read that quote by Sylvia Plath.... so often the little girl inside of me wonders that. "Will you love me a little?"...... even if you really knew me. I've come to a place now where I voice my concerns about being loved (well, kinda).... it seems silly, which is why I've only come so far as to voice them with my therapist, but small steps have to start somewhere. She knows practically everything about me. One day in her office, I was feeling especially anxious about all that she knew.... feelings of a little girl wondering whether she is still loveable were strong and fierce.... I was detaching and looking away and staying distant. For the last half of the appt, she was encouraging me to say what was going through my head... but I kept telling her it was stupid and immature. And I couldn't tell her because she was my therapist.... and it was dumb. Eventually through many tears and shallow breaths, I muttered the words "Do you love me?" And she hugged me, said a gentle "yes" in my ear, and began me on my journey of healing the scared little girl inside of me that finally spoke up that day. I find myself still needing to ask that question sometimes... one of these days I will need to start asking it of the people who deep down I'm really directing it toward (transference is a weird thing), but until then I'm getting comfortable with the question and with the answer that I AM loveable despite myself.

I'm glad you asked this question.... of course the answer is yes.

p.s. I'm sorry I ramble forever on your comments. they just get me thinking.


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