My Oprah Moment

We all have different stories. I never thought that mine would be much of any interest to anyone. I still kind of think that. But this journal, and the hit counter, proves that it is interesting to some. That's kind of a gnarly thought. It makes me smile. Sometimes it makes me giggle with enrapturing pleasure. This feels good.

Feeling good, feeling content and feeling at ease are all feelings I haven't experienced often. Until now.

Growing up, we've all had our "ugly stages." My physical "ugly stage" was 6th grade. Oversized t-shirts to hide my flat chest, wind pants so I wouldn't have to change in front of the other girls on gym days, big hooped earrings to give me the conformity I longed for, bad hair. But my true "ugly stage" lasted alot longer than the external one. Think about 6 years.

In those 6 years, I have never experienced a moments peace. I was never at ease. With myself, with others, at home, in school, in love, alone...Something was always eating away at me.

After breaking up with my last boyfriend, I have been experiencing a tremendous amount of personal growth. It's been about 9 or 10 months since we called it quits and I have never felt better. Not to pinpoint him in particular or anything, but that moment in my life was the turning point. It was the moment I realized that something had to change. It was the morbidly obese person's moment of realization that they are not invincable, expecially with a heart monitor hooked up to their body. It was the moment the abused woman took matters into her own hands and called the cops on her wifebeater of a husband. This was my Oprah moment.

Since then, I've found AOL Journals. I've found support in certain friends, though more importantly, within myself. I found a sense of composed wisdom within my 19 years, with my 3 doomed relationships, countless failed friendships, numerous events of slamming doors on my parents, within my decade and a half career as a student. This is me. And I learned to love it and learned to feel comfortable with myself.

For the first time in years, (long term relationships back to back), I had time to spend alone. Utterly alone. Learning to not wait for the phone to ring was a huge stepping stone in the process. I sometimes battle it today, but not as often. It gets to the point now, where I just don't want to be reached. I don't want to be "gotten hold of." I want to be with me. I'm good company. I've learned to use my time more wisely. I learned to knit. I'm learning to play guitar, the right way. I've learned to take care of myself, first. I've the learned the importance of life, and how close I actually came to ending mine, on several different occasions. I now realize, that I would've regretted it. If you can still feel remorse, that is.

And through more recent experiences I have learned that I'm not ready to be "gotten." On the phone, and otherwise. My process of healing and growing and becoming is far from over. I am not perfect. I never will be. And I want someone to love me for that. To love my imperfections as much as I do.

And though the many ex-boyfriends and ex-crushes and ex-friends under my belt have helped me to grow, it's extremely hard for me to let go of the underlying bitterness that encompasses the imperfections and flaws of companionship. I cannot do it.

I just recently began speaking to one of my ex boyfriends. It took 5 years. I needed time to learn how to look back and laugh. I needed to learn how to put on some heels, look damn good, strut into his place of work and strike up a conversation, without holding any of the animosity that I held for so long. Because let's face it, animosity and bitterness does not look good with any outfit.

School helped me to strengthen my inner plethora of senstivity and emotions. I reminded myself that I am doing this for me, I am "bettering" my already fabulous self. The most recent breakup was at the beginning semester of my first year at college. What a time for changes.

I adapted. I lived to tell about it. I'm alive. And it feels damn good.

Sure, I may not always get the guy, or respond well to confrotations or jumbled up emotions, but I'm not a superhero. Yet. The application is sitting on my dresser and all I have to do is send it in. I don't think I'm ready for a title like that yet. I'm just getting comfortable with my own skin, Lord knows how those tights will fit.