Tag Archives: originality

Originality and Confidence In You… Revealing Some Personal Shit Here… LOL

I often joke that I am not like many other women. In many ways that is true and in those ways I do not seek to be different than others, it is just who I am. For many years well into my 18th year I was ‘happy’ being what others wanted me to be. I say ‘happy’ because I was happy if others were happy and they were happy because I was how they wanted me to be, but I was not happy. I was a peacemaker… until the day I was doing anything other than keeping the peace in the house… long story… and won’t be shared here… but I bet you are curious… see I don’t share everything…. LOL.

Even while meeting those expectations I still didn’t follow the rules. I was not a rebellious child. Oddly enough it was in my obedience I showed my difficulty with the rules… and I was a see everything in black and white and be convinced of the shades of grey… and this was long before shades of grey…

My older brother woke me up every morning by punching me in the arm. It hurt. I was a writer way back then. I wrote him a note (I would always get in trouble for yelling at him to stop… so I wrote a quiet but pointed letter). I told him I hated him waking me up every morning  by punching me. I told him I in fact hated him. I wish he wasn’t my brother. In fact, I really hated this family always being mad at me for screaming out in pain when he punches me.

For some reason, my quiet yet pointed letter discussing my distaste for being hit daily failed to have the impact I was hoping…

I was punished with a hell of a punishment…

Part of my punishment was I could not talk to my family for a period of time. It was to teach me a lesson in valuing and honoring my family.

Gonna admit here now… my family defines dysfunction…. like many other families… I know I am not alone in this…

I also had to memorize bible verses that dealt with loving your brother…. and those were only two of the punishments….

I am a writer and I am a talker. I talk and always have… I also sing… sometimes I sing well… and sometimes I don’t.

My punishment did not allow my family to talk to me for any reason not even to ask me to pass the ‘whatever’ at the dinner table.

I made sure the food always made it down to me last – easy to do since I couldn’t ask  for it and eventually someone felt bad for me… but they couldn’t ask me to hand it to them either… that was funny….

Rebellion because of their rule…

I would go back to my room and listen to my music and sing along umm loudly… and they couldn’t tell me to stop.

Rebellion because of their rules…

I would tell all kinds of stories… out loud… I would sit in my room and make up stories and say them out loud and at certain times they couldn’t hear what came next because I whispered the next part. They couldn’t ask me about the stories because… they weren’t allowed too…

Rebellion because of their rules…

At the dinner table… I was the only one who cared enough about the other 4 members of my family to actually ask how their day was. To care about the test or the game or the job or the whatever. No one ever talked if I didn’t start the conversations.

Which is really sad…

But I learned in that crappy situation the power I had with my words.

Yes, my words had the potential to hurt my brother. BTW, it didn’t. He only showed mom because he was her favorite and knew I would get in trouble. Yeah, he didn’t win awesome brother of the year award…. ever….

He BTW never got in trouble for hitting me daily. And just so you know… after my punishment was lifted… he had to come in and wake me for school… and here is the thing… I was already awake, internal clock thingy… he just did it to be mean… so the first day he came in to wake me he punched me in the arm. I didn’t scream… I learned my lesson… the second day, I dug out my old baton… who knows why I still had that baton… but I had it ready and I hit him with it. He turned so I missed his arm but hit him hard on the side/back portion of him… he screamed out that time. He had a bruise… I got in trouble for hitting him (are you really surprised) but he stopped hitting me….

I also learned the power for good I had in my words… I was the glue that made that group of misfits and freaks a family. I was the only one who could think beyond their own self and actually wonder and care about the others in the house…

I realized my father and his stupid punishments were not strong enough to break me. My 2 week punishment lasted only 3.5 days. And I was in school for three of them. I was relieved of my banishment by noon on Saturday. I am sure it was going to be a long ass weekend with all that singing and story telling from my room.

I was a freshman in high school. My brother was a senior. I beat my parents at their own stupid game.

There are so many things I could share about my childhood that many can relate too. Some of these things are devastating to hear and some are funny as hell. I have so many stories that are shit stories that I can spin into something good.

My personality is often defined as a charismatic optimist…

For a girl who likes to write, tell stories, sing along with the radio, laugh… and laugh and laugh… my life has been an adventure that most would wonder… “are you shitting me?”

Nope, if something bad is going to happen it is going to be epic… and not by us trying to make it epic…

And we can laugh about it… and we can cry from laughing… after the original tears of course… I am human after all…

But each experience is my own. Whether I share it with my original family or my hubby and kids… it is who I am and what I am from the combination of all that I am, have been, and yes, will be…

I am different than others… and I love being original… I love being unique… I love being a pain to some and a joy to others..

I love being who I am flaws and all.. and believe me… I have a ton of them. I am okay with that…

I do not have a perfect body… but I am often cherished by those I have sex with…

I am a natural flirt because I truly love getting to know people, putting them at ease, sharing a story to let them know they are not alone, or laughing when they need to laugh… I love building people up and making them feel good with who they are… accepting them as they are… and people enjoy that about me… they seek me out… it is rewarding for us both… equally….

I am confident in who I am because no one else can be like me and do it as well as the original me… I don’t want to be like anyone else or be anyone else… I like who I am despite there being things I need to fix…

It truly makes me sad that others will try to copy me or other people for whatever reason… it makes them seem unoriginal… because they are… you can’t be anyone else as good as you can be you… I don’t worry how I measure up to others because I am too busy seeing if I like who I am… what I am… and walking away happy… because I like me… imperfections and all…

I would love for all men and women to be who they are… and if they don’t know who they are… find out already… stick yourself in a room and have a conversation about yourself to yourself out loud…

If a freshman in high school can have an epiphany… so can you…

I am serious. Go in a room, look at a mirror and introduce yourself to you. Talk about who you are, what you want to be, what you like about you, what you are good at, all that stuff…

Don’t forget to mention the things you don’t like about yourself. See if there is something you can do to change it…I mean if you wanted to be Italian and you are Norwegian, not much you can do but accept yourself as Norwegian…

But that is the key… get to know yourself and accept yourself… you will find that you really are ‘happy’ being who you are…

I have seen the difference that ‘activity’ makes in young girls who have suffered from sexual abuse when I worked with that population… It really does work… life changing…

BTW… my brother did cheat during that Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday and talk to me at the bus stop and during school… didn’t get him to apologize for being a bully ass big brother… but he did cheat… and talk to me… made mention how I make him feel good when I talk to him…

My little brother was 8 and his room was right next to mine and he would talk to me through the wall when my parents weren’t close enough to hear him….

My mom walked by my room a few times a day telling me she was sorry…

My dad removed the punishment and asked if that would actually shut me up…

I told him  no and said if he wants I can not talk to him for the rest of my life… he looked at me surprised… I had never talked back before…

I had the power in the relationship from that point on….

Just saying…

Be original and have confidence on your sexually social adventure… it really is sexy…

Sophia