I had a bunch of people come up to me this weekend and tell me I’m hysterical on Facebook. At first I thought “Oh balls. People are actually paying attention to me. I should stop being crazy.” Then I remembered that I had to talk myself out of wearing a tutu on Sunday. I might be a little eccentric, but that’s who I am and I’m not about to apologize for it.
After the tenth person stopped by I realized that my long time (17 years) July weekend family was FINALLY meeting ME. For many celebrations, I had spent my time walking around the green as “Tom’s daughter”. Even though I didn’t mind it, there was a certain person that I thought I needed to be. I think I realized that I was actually just being myself this weekend when I was chatting with everyone. The conversations were less forced and more enjoyable. I did curb my profanity for a few people (and I was SHOCKED that I could manage that) but I consider that to be respectful of the comfort levels of others. [If you are one of those people, I apologize in advance for what is inevitable when I’m writing.]
I think that caring about what everyone thinks of you is okay unless it prevents you from actually being who you are. Confusing? I hope not. I used to have an idea of what other people perceived from me and would alter myself accordingly. So in essence, I created the perceptions in the first place.
I told Lisa that life started to get a lot easier when I stopped caring what a lot of people thought of me. I have had this three year rebirth into the person that I am. I know that it seems shallow, but a lot of my hang ups had a lot to do with my own feelings of self worth. It was very low and I’m pretty sure that if I didn’t change I would probably have found something terrible for me or would have dipped back into old habits.
A part of me feels like a horrible person for claiming that I had it rough. I grew up in a two parent household with a steady, comfortable income. I have parents that love me and want what they consider to be best for me. I have an amazing group of friends that continues to grow and surprise me daily.
The reason why I had it rough was because I felt like I wasn’t worth it. I didn’t like myself, so I assumed that no one else would. But guess what? I have done things that scare me within the last three years and I feel amazing for it. I have all of these memories and a bunch of people that I have known forever who are just getting to know me.
This weekend was amazing. The newest thing added to the celebration was that a bunch of daredevils known as the Maximum Velocity Stunt Team (www.mvst.com) did these awesometaculous stunts on skateboard and bike and I got the opportunity to photograph a few of their sets. Every time they got massive air, flipped upside down, landed in a way that I would assume would either sprain or break an ankle… I was terrified for them.
Matt slayed the crowd on his flatboard. Rob spun out his bike with reckless abandon. Brandon bitchslapped every backflip. Bobby arched off of the course entirely and almost ended up in the river. I prepped myself to run over and administer medical attention if I was needed. But as I recharged my camera in the RV and looked through my pictures I saw two things even more amazing then the stunts.
I saw sheer happiness and complete surrender. In each stunt the performer is focused, but when you reach the point of no return there is a moment of surrender where they have not only prepared to accept the outcome, their expression is that of pure bliss.
I don’t even remember which one took a spill, but he immediately got up. I probably would have shouted “FUCK THIS!” kicked/punched at the air and quit. Instead he immediately climbed back on his bike, and nailed it seconds later.
I know that was strange for me to bring up during a moment of self discovery, but stay tuned. It makes sense.
There are a lot of things that I don’t do because I am a super control freak, but there are also a lot of things that I want to do but limit myself on. I want the bliss of surrendering and the happiness of completing my objective.
Weird. I intended this to be a recap of the weekend, but I wrote this instead. I still owe you guys a recap of the Starfish Circus and a recap of the weekend. Am I missing something I should recap or rant on?
Also… To keep it weird (because that is who I am and I’m totally okay with that), here’s a recent conversation with my bestie via email.
Me: I wish I had a wooden leg with a trick compartment. I’d make so much money sitting on the side of the road.
S: A piggy bank may help as well.
Me: Having a piggy bank on a sidewalk makes it a lot easier to be stolen from than a wooden leg.
S: Make it a mean looking pig. Like a boar bank.
Me: Do you think they actually make taxidermy piggy banks?
S: With all the pigs raised for lunch in this culture, and all the weirdo hicks, someone must have at some point.
Me: Hope so. Life would be so much sunnier.
S: If a RealPig* piggy bank is what you want for your post-Lotto gift, ok.
Me: No I’d prefer financial security and occasional ticklefights.**
* RealPig needs to happen. But don’t send it to me. Taxidermists can’t get the look of fear out of the animal faces***.
**In my opinion, I’d win.
***It’s really bad with squirrels. Always so terrified.
**** I just wanted to write another one of these. Poop. Teehee!