How strange it is that people see strength in me that simply is not there. I suppose I should be grateful for their imaginations, because it is these people who call themselves my friends (yes, I actually have a few, believe it or not) and [genuinely] like me. I’ve written about this before. Here. When I wrote that entry I had just found out that I was pregnant…again, and not just pregnant, but 20 weeks – half way through – pregnant. It came as a shock to my entire being and it brought my weaknesses to the forefront of my attention once again (not that they are ever far from the forefront).

 

My problem here is, I feel sad that people don’t like me for me but for strength they see in me that isn’t there. People who see me as I really am rarely like me…at least not for long, anyway. I mean, people other than my husband who has – I believe – a divine grace to love and care for me, and my family. I can be exasperating. I know this.

 

I also speak my mind…and my mind often works very contrary to the way other peoples’ minds work. And, furthermore, I believe I’m the one that is right. I admit it. Opinions aren’t humble, no matter what people say! And, some of them are right and some of them are wrong. Yep, occasionally black and white leaves no room for grey.

 

See, the above paragraph right there is going to have some people pissed off and seething. I should have prefaced it with: Beware! Stumbling Block Ahead!

 

I have had the choice not to speak my mind and, therefore, “get along”. But, well…I obviously didn’t choose to suppress myself so.

 

And… if you dislike someone who is like me (whether they are a character in a book or a real, live breathing person) don’t you of necessity, then, dislike me also?

 

How do you see strength in me that is not there, and like that strength while holding all that I really am in contempt? I just don’t understand. I am at a loss. I am trying to get it. But, I don’t.

 

I’m not trying to push anyone away, really. But, I want to be liked – or disliked, if you must – for who I am, not what you think I am but am not.

 

And, I don’t think it’s one of those cases like I wrote about here. It’s not an issue of me not seeing myself through the eyes of those who love me and, therefore, being down on myself or having low self-esteem because of my inability to see myself through other peoples’ eyes. This is a case of personality and beliefs and the stuff that makes up my very psyche: the stuff that is really me. It’s not that I’m not seeing something in me that is really there, something other people see but I don’t. I can admit that I will see physical ugliness that IS NOT THERE when I look in the mirror, when someone else will see beauty that REALLY MAY BE THERE but I am unable to see it due to insecurities. But, this is something where people are seeing something – intangible – that just is not there.

 

You can like me in spite of who I am, I suppose (and, maybe, that’s what is actually going on here). But, you cannot – or, rather, should not – like me for something I am not, something I do not possess.

 

I am not strong. I never have been. I never will be. I crumble quite easily when faced with difficulties and am very easily frustrated, easily overwhelmed. I am utterly dependent on my husband, for everything – and, I see nothing wrong with that because I do think that feminism took society too far the other way. If Jamie wasn’t a good man, if he was a bastard who treated me like shit, then this would be another issue entirely. But, the truth is, he was made for me – a gift to me, I believe, so that a weak and fragile woman could have a life, and not merely an existence. I know I am extremely blessed, and I am so grateful.

 

I know that the way that I am does not make for popularity in today’s world. It amazes me that I have any friends at all sometimes. And, for those of you who do brave knowing me and still call me friend, I am also exceedingly grateful. I just want everyone to see me as I truly am and not make stuff up to make me be “acceptable”. Love me for who I am and who I am not, or despite it, but don’t ignore it and don’t see what isn’t there.