Should I stay or should I go now?
This is a constant battle I have with myself. Internally, of course, otherwise it would be considered multiple personality disorder and I’d be shipped off to a padded room where one of my personalities can’t hurt the other.
But seriously, there are things in my life that I face every day that make me uncomfortable. These things feel like destructors sent by the universe to strip me of all confidence and security in my job and in my love life and in the passions I pursue in film.
This means that each day I have to make a choice — Do I battle these things another day? Do I build up my emotional armor again with 20 minutes of meditation in the morning, a rapid-writing journal entry and another post to my self-affirmation/inspiration board made from mantras from mentors and people like Mother Teresa?
Or do I not? Do I choose to not enter the war zone and walk away, unencumbered by the need for armor or note cards with wise words on them plastered everywhere.
My mother would tell me to stay and not only to stay but to just get over it. All of it. I think to her, I spend too much time in my head over-analyzing every choice, every action, every personal interaction, every possible future outcome and not enough time just doing whatever the hell I want without worrying about all that. She’s probably right.
In her logic, there is no need to surrender or run. There is just the simple task of telling my brain to not be so mean and skip merrily along in life, come what may.
Then there’s a lot of my girlfriends who say often that they don’t know how I can bare these daily emotional assaults. Some say they would have walked away a long time ago, others say they would have never put up with it in the first place.
It’s an interesting stake in emotional real estate to have. Am I strong for putting up with things that daily make my jaw tighten and my stomach drop as my heart flutters as my body produces sweaty palms and my blood pressure undoubtedly rises? Or am I weak or maybe silly?
I’m not a quitter, so it feels to me that I should push through to the end, but to what end? When you can’t identify a satisfactory outcome that you have control over and you can’t identify the end, then doesn’t it just seem, I don’t sort of masochistic, to stick around?
Or does it build character? I mean, we’ve all heard the cliche that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, which in philosophy is true, but what if I don’t give a flying fart about being any stronger? What if I just want to be happy damnit? What if I just want to show up one day and not worry that maybe today is the day I lose the battle?
As you can tell, I’m no closer now than I was before I started writing this blog to making any sort of life decision. But maybe that is just life.
Who is to say that if I were to shed myself of this war that I wouldn’t just come face to face with another warrior. An uglier one with more badass weapons? Nothing and no one. There are no guarantees. There is just this wild, unpredictable thing called life. And I think I’m the kind of girl that can pick up a sword and slay the dragon herself, or die trying. Yes, I think I’m that girl.
Don’t worry, I’m not killing anyone. I’m just choosing to pick up my sword, maybe bedazzle it a bit with some glitter and carry on for another day, leaving a trail of sparkles behind me, hopefully for other women trying to find their way out too to follow.
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