Expanding

I realize I've shrunk myself.

I knew I'd done it and why. I was hiding in the corners, hoping not to be seen. I was afraid of attacks -- every kind of attack. What's more, I was not worthy of taking up such space.

Not only out of sight, but I didn't dare make any noise either. Even sound waves were dangerous things... Alerting people to my unworthy existence. Not only those I might make, but those I might listen to.

I realized that today when I returned home and switched the radio on.

Whose volume setting was this? This was not loud enough to sing along to, or even to move your hips to. This was a whisper someone would have to silently should crouch beside to hear -- should crouch silently beside to hear. Why would someone do this? It's crazy!

So I turned the volume up -- perhaps as loud as I once listened to, sung along with, danced to; perhaps not. Who knows? It might even be louder now.

But I refuse to crouch in silence straining simultaneously to hear and not be heard, in some sort of limbo of painfully contradictory wistful needs.

Why would I let him, let all those complicit to his violence who further victimized me, why would I let any of them take music from me?!

I am worthy of enjoying music. I am worthy of blasting it as loudly, as obnoxiously, as I fucking-well want.

I am alive.

I

am

alive!

Why not embrace it -- expand myself -- and reclaim the auditory, emotional, and physical space that I as a living human being am entitled.

Start Somewehere; Love Yourself

You have to start somewhere. Not just with this blog; but with any process. So "about" pages and Mission Statements must wait, for I just need to start. Somewhere. So here it is.

Love yourself. Just simply love yourself. Sing yourself a love song.

I just did.

Peter Framptons' Baby, I Love Your Way was on the radio, and I sang along, tears in my eyes. Tears of joy, tears recognizing that it's been a long time since I felt -- really felt -- that I loved myself. I acknowledged the power of that simple act. I felt precious. And I don't think there's a single person who couldn't do with more of that sort of a thing.

Except perhaps, true narcissists. And none of them are likely to come here.