Getting It Off My Chest

Warning: Rant to follow. Tread carefully - volatile waters ahead.

Growing up, I always wanted to feel "accepted". I guess to a large extent I always felt like I was on the outside of something. My sisters and brother were all so much older than me, it was almost like we weren't really part of the same family. My nieces and nephews were much closer in age to me, but they were still 'separate' from me, in that they were not my siblings.

Wanting approval from others got me into some deep issues when I was child. I'll spare all of you the details, but lets just say that there are people out there more than willing to take advantage of an emotionally needy child.

Other kids were interesting for me, too. I wasn't that kid that got picked last in gym class, but I was pretty far down on the list.

I felt hurt a lot. I learned that the best way to prevent myself from getting hurt was to put up a wall. I chose to come across as being crass and full of humour, with the occasional prickles, to keep other people at bay. It worked. And so I wasn't being hurt by other people, I was hurting myself. Because let's be honest here, people, even though it may have appeared to others that I wasn't hurting, the truth of the matter is that I was collecting my hurts and carrying them around in my pockets. As a matter of fact, if I dig deep enough, many of them are still in there.

Now that I'm a grown up, I realize that I still do often come across as crass and prickly. I guess I expected other people to see through that, to the reality of who I am underneath.

The harsh truth is that I'm still getting picked pretty much next to last in gym class. I am no one's "go to" person. I am not trusted with sensitive information. I am not counted on to be sensitive and compassionate. I am left out of things. People expect the worst from me, when the truth is that they really don't have any real reason to.

I am sensitive. I hurt....likely more than anyone suspects. My tough exterior is there only for my own protection...and even that isn't good enough these days.

I say these things not because I am playing a victim. I suppose that these hurts are really no one's fault but my own. I've been wearing a very good disguise for the last 34 years of my life. And now that I want to take it off, I feel like it's too late.

It's too late for so many things. I don't know how to fix any of it.