Thursday, December 19, 2013

kickin' ... my bag to the curb

  Bags ... or rather "baggage."  We all carry them.  We deny we have them, but we really do.  We just sometimes forget that they are there because we've done a good job of hiding them for so long.  They can be big or small ... heavy or light ... painful or just "there."

  Five years ago, I thought I had done a good job of emptying my bags and had left them at the curb.  Much like how my second husband later told me I had done to him when I left him.  I suppose that was an appropriate comparison since for ten of our twelve years together I had felt like garbage because of the things he filled my head with.  All of the "You'll never be good enoughs."

  I remember when I was single and a friend would try to introduce me to someone ... always with the caveat  that he came with some "baggage."  A child ... an ex from Hades ... or some personality quirk.

  I spent a lot of time alone.

  This past year, a lot of my bags filled up again with all those negative thoughts and words.  Not from anyone else saying them to me ... but from my own self-doubts, fears, worries, and painful memories.

  So today, as a variation on a theme from [KIOS], I've been emptying my bag again.  Because I am intelligent; I am strong; I am beautiful; I would have been a good mother; I am a good cook; I do make a comfortable home; I am honest; I am crafty; I am fun to be around ... and I am enough.

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