House of Hawthorne

Posts Tagged ‘comparison

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I came to a conclusion today after a year of worrying about something. I know, you’re thinking, wow, Virginia, you must be incredibly sane. Like, the sanest ever. You deal with things super healthily!

I was cleaning out this ditch full of leaves in front of our yard and I realized I had something like that in my brain, clogging up my worry drainage system. (Actually, as far as I can tell, we don’t have a drainage system in our yard, so now all we have is standing muddy water. Maybe featuring aquatic life? Should I get a very large bucket? Or perhaps embrace it as a moat? A worry for another day.)

I finished getting all the leaves together, dusted myself off a bit, and came in and blocked someone on Facebook. A weight was immediately lifted. Facebook spring cleaning, check. I need to remove the temptation to check in on this person I barely know, for absolutely no reason, who I decided a year ago, under completely crazy circumstances, was my enemy and my complete opposite. I don’t need to worry about this person being everything I’m not anymore, because the traits that make me this person’s opposite are traits I cherish about myself.

Mainly, I’m not a bad ass chick. I’m never going to be one. It’s something I’ve got to own up to. I’ve got to stop apologizing and scurrying around this fact. Worrying about that makes me whiny, scared and insecure, instead of embracing it, which keeps me laughing at myself, fun, and easygoing. People like that about me, and I forget that. My friends aren’t mad at me because I wouldn’t be able to defend them in a fight. That’s not what you sign up for in a friendship with Virginia Hawthorne. You sign up for a great sense of humor, trustworthiness and kindness, and that’s that.

I’ve started to write about this grudge for months, and haven’t been able to, and my writing has slowed to a crawl because of that. I’m ready to let this one go, shake it out, and write again. Thank those strange possibly paleolithic creatures swimming in my yard.

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