I am leaving for Cincinnati tomorrow, to spend five days with my boyfriend. Though I'm so excited to see him again, I can't help but feel extremely nervous at the thought of meeting his parents and friends. On top of the normal pressures of the initial first impression, he's already warned me about his stepmother. A warning that she has the potential to basically verbally abuse me, rip me apart, even if it is behind my back.
I guess the part that gets to me is that this is my Achilles heel...this is my weakness. What other people think of me; their perception, their view of the person I am. I don't know why this matters so much to me, but sometimes I think God is trying to show me that aside from His perception of me, I am the one who should judge myself, not a complete stranger who was in my presence for a day or two. Granted, my boyfriend did tell me that no matter what his parents think or say, he will love me regardless. But it sounded like more of a premonition than reassurance -- they might hate you, but don't worry, I will still love you. He should be the only one who matters. Why am I letting this get to me?
Flashback to sixth grade. Our desks are all set up in groups of four or five, and there are two guys and a girl at my "table." The girl continues to call me "Hairy" because of the dark hair on my arms -- nothing too noticeable, but this is a Catholic school; thus, they must pick you apart. The boys chime in, tossing out sexual innuendo. "Do you know what a pussy is?" I can't take it. I go home and get into the shower, armed with my razor and a vendetta against the hair on my arms. Hair that I never really noticed before, yet with each passing stroke, the razor takes off more and more hair. Finally, there is nothing but my pale skin, spotted with freckles every so often.
I caved in. I gave up a part of myself for what other people thought. I may never understand why I think the way I do, but I'm damned well going to try.
I just hope that the Tagamet works tomorrow...and the Pepto. The feeling of acid shooting up my throat is more than I can tolerate for five days. Maybe I will feel better once I get down there, and the anticipation is no longer making me nervous. Then I will only have to deal with myself, and try not to worry about anyone else.
I guess the part that gets to me is that this is my Achilles heel...this is my weakness. What other people think of me; their perception, their view of the person I am. I don't know why this matters so much to me, but sometimes I think God is trying to show me that aside from His perception of me, I am the one who should judge myself, not a complete stranger who was in my presence for a day or two. Granted, my boyfriend did tell me that no matter what his parents think or say, he will love me regardless. But it sounded like more of a premonition than reassurance -- they might hate you, but don't worry, I will still love you. He should be the only one who matters. Why am I letting this get to me?
Flashback to sixth grade. Our desks are all set up in groups of four or five, and there are two guys and a girl at my "table." The girl continues to call me "Hairy" because of the dark hair on my arms -- nothing too noticeable, but this is a Catholic school; thus, they must pick you apart. The boys chime in, tossing out sexual innuendo. "Do you know what a pussy is?" I can't take it. I go home and get into the shower, armed with my razor and a vendetta against the hair on my arms. Hair that I never really noticed before, yet with each passing stroke, the razor takes off more and more hair. Finally, there is nothing but my pale skin, spotted with freckles every so often.
I caved in. I gave up a part of myself for what other people thought. I may never understand why I think the way I do, but I'm damned well going to try.
I just hope that the Tagamet works tomorrow...and the Pepto. The feeling of acid shooting up my throat is more than I can tolerate for five days. Maybe I will feel better once I get down there, and the anticipation is no longer making me nervous. Then I will only have to deal with myself, and try not to worry about anyone else.
posted by Erin Nicole @ 9:43 PM
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