Sometimes, I confess, this is who I am.
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Sometimes I feel this unmistakable urgency to write, but the only words that come are jumbled, disconnected, and insufficient.
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Sometimes I feel like standing up in my cubicle, pulling out my hair and screaming, while other times I think I’d feel just as liberated if I stood up and danced for a minute instead.
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Sometimes I miss the days when I thought my extended family was “perfect” — but mostly I just wish for better communication, restored faith, and strength to overcome.
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Sometimes I question myself: my abilities, my worth, my decisions; but in my heart of hearts, I know I’m talented, precious and capable.
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Sometimes I’m inspired by other people’s posts*, and their words help me to figure out how to formulate my own.
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Sometimes I don’t do a very good job of showing my appreciation or gratefulness toward the people closest to me, even when I know that a simple “thanks” is (sometimes) all it takes.
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Sometimes I daydream about being a backup singer for a big-name band; in those dreams I have big hair and excessive glitter, a la Dreamgirls.
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Sometimes these jumbled, disconnected words, although insufficient, manage to capture enough of who I am in this moment that I know they’re valid and important enough to share.
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And sometimes I just have to remind myself that this place is here for the very purpose of letting these thoughts out — whether or not they’re eloquent or cohesive.
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*This post was inspired by a bunch of different posts, most notably Ally’s, Nora’s, and Mandy’s.
Girl, I’d come watch you if you ever become a back-up singer. I often dream about wearing copious amounts of make-up and glitter too… but just because I think it would be fun.
I also wish that I could do pirouettes down the main hallway at my office, or strut like a model when walk. Other days, screaming seems much more fun.
Love you.
we are what we are and those who love us love us for that.
i love to read your thoughts, even when they seem to not make sense because in my twisted head, they do. i seem to always know what you mean even if you say something poorly. i understand you in my heart.
Tabitha, I love to read about these different sides of you. I hear you on the illusion of the perfect extended family. Where did those days go? I must have been too young to realize how things really were.
Also, if you become a backup singer maybe you’ll pass through the DC area and we can meet up.
I agree with Ally, its great getting read all these different sides of you. You are all sorts of awesome. Jumbled and disconnected are familiar friends of mine. By all means, dance if you need to and if you need to scream go for it. I can’t tell you how many times I pull out of the parking lot at work, just letting out a really good scream. Try it. It helps, I promise.
Love this post. Eloquent on its own. And just so you know, I am very inspired by your posts.. I was reading the letter to your heart the other day and I was so inspired by the concept and your words.
Best,
Hannah Katy
I loved this post. It tells of strength and growth and acceptance, and a well-rounded character indeed.
Love your cubicle analogy! You know one thing that works besides breaking out the good old sprinkler? Take your index finger (either right or left), place it in between your lips, wiggle your finger between your lips and make noises… I really hope you know what I am talking about! If not… I am sure it looked humorous to others watching you at the moment
Why don’t you think your family is “perfect” any more? I think we all should know no person and no family is perfect. It may seem some are perfect to those externally but the truth is we all have our mistakes and our quirks… but in the long run, that’s why we love our families
Sing it gurrrrrllll! I will play the guitar for you! I bet you belt it out in the car! I did that with the windows down today (by the way, a great remedy for when you are feeling inept and insecure about your abilities as mentioned above) at a stop light… I finally looked around and a group of people on the corner were listening and then clapped when I looked their way and stopped… *embarrassing* to say the least when you are on State Street. What a way for me to make a mark in this new town haha.