Opinions. Judgement. Questionable Acceptance.

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

~Eleanor Roosevelt 

Why do we put so much weight on what others think and say about us? I think it’s human nature to want to be accepted and loved by our own. But, at what cost?

In all types of relationships we look for approval. We want to know that we are doing the right thing. We want love, acceptance and kudos. Even from when we are very young, we try to please our parents. We try to pick up on cues of what is right and wrong. Cues of how they want us to behave. So we can please them.

We try to fit in with friends and school mates. We are constantly judging ourselves and making micro adjustments in our behavior to fit in. Then we grow up to be in the same situations with older friends and co-workers. Whatever circle of people we are in (or are trying to be in) we change. We mold. We conform. And, sometimes it isn’t for the better.

We may be on the outskirts wanting to be one of the group.

How many of us have been in relationships where we change to please the other person? From step parents to lovers to friends? We fight hard against some of what makes us “us” to be accepted. Yes, there is the need to be flexible, especially in a partnership relationship. But, to try to be who we aren’t, to change what makes us “us,” isn’t the way to go. We try to be too much of who they want us to be. We may try this for a while. Weeks, months, years. Thinking this will make the other person happy which will make us happy. Rarely have I seen this work. We are the only ones who can make us happy.

I have a friend who is hurting from an online dating experience. He opened up, showed his vulnerabilities. He was led along thinking this other person liked him for all that he was. But, in an instant, their opinion changed. They wanted more. They wanted him to be different. They didn’t like him for him. Their words cut him deep. And he’s left trying to pick up the pieces from that hurt. I think he’s better off knowing this now before things moved farther. How much would he have changed about himself to try to please this other person?

I’ve personally made concessions to be with others. I’ve tried to change the little things that make me “me” that they didn’t seem to like. I’ve even made big changes. And, I’ve felt the hurt too. I was looking for the approval of others when what I really needed was just to find someone who accepted me for me.

Trying to be something else?

Recently, I’ve even put a lot of weight behind what people have said while I’m dealing with this head injury. I look fine. I should be fine. They don’t know what goes on in my head or the constant physical pain that I’m in. I fight that every day. Why do I care what they think? Why do I put so much weight behind their words? They aren’t me. I’m trying to let that go. But, it’s years of conditioning and of trying to be accepted that makes it so hard.

It takes time to undo the hurt that comes from when we are dealing with what we perceive as rejection by those we can’t please. We have to re-find ourselves. We have to find our self-esteem again. We have to realize that they aren’t us. They don’t know who we are or what we’re going through. Most likely they have projected their own insecurities and problems on us to make themselves feel better. That hardly seems fair. Why can’t we all just be kind to each other? And accept others for who they truly are? It would then make it easier for us to accept ourselves. There would never even be that questioning. We would always be happy with who we are and celebrate daily in our uniqueness. In the end, that’s what’s really important.

Have you ever felt judged? Why did you care so much? How did it make you feel?

@Ybbeige

www.barbarabeige.com

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

Kid-spiration

Inspiration hits us from different places. And, for different reasons. As of late, with the way my head has been, I’ve felt less inspired to write than the old me had. Constant headaches and a short attention span keep me from thinking of much else besides the necessary daily functioning of things. But, I think some inspiration is finding its way back in. And, you want to know where it’s coming from? My Oldest. Yep. Kid inspired inspiration.

My girls came to spend the summer with me about two weeks ago. On Day One, my Oldest asked if I had any legal pads. I scrounged up the remains of one, though it was yellow, and she prefers white. She just started writing.

She filled up all the pages that were left and asked if I could read what she wrote. I was amazed. She had the beginnings of a novel with a Western flavor. It featured a strong, young female main character not much older than herself. Inspiration was tickling me.

Character drawings by Little One for the novel Oldest is working on.

We bought her a pack of white 8-1/2 x 11 legal style pads. She went into the reasoning of why she preferred those over spiral bound notebooks. No metal to dig into her or to catch on her if the spiral got caught on something. Nothing to get squished and keep the pages from turning. No looking at all those holes. The direction of flipping the paper and on and on. She really didn’t have to convince me. For less than four dollars, we can get her a six pack of her preferred note pads.

I know exactly how she feels to want to write on just the right kind of paper. I prefer a spiral bound myself; those half-sized ones with three sections and the thicker spiral wire so that it doesn’t squish and catch. And, I like the yellow legal style pads in the same size she prefers (vs. the actual longer legal size) for my character development and place description notes.

My notebooks. Smaller one has a few blogs written in my special chicken scratch.
Yellow legal pad has notes for novel #3. 

I’m like her, too, on writing a lot by hand. There’s just something in the way our brains work when we physically connect our pen to paper. She is also like me in that she prefers to write with blue pen (whereas Little One prefers black).

Oldest has almost forty pages chocked full of writing so far, not counting separate sheets with her notes and changes. She writes every moment she can. Writes when she first gets up. Brings her notepads to the waiting rooms of my appointments. Scratches things down on them while she’s riding in the car. And, most every night, she writes instead of reading when she climbs into bed.

A few days after she began writing, she asked me if it’s okay to write every other chapter from a different character’s point of view. Little One said she loved a book she recently read like that. I shared with them a few paragraphs from the first two chapters of my second novel, Identically Different. (It's still in the editing stages). It showed Oldest the differences between the ways the two identical twin sisters talk and think. Her eyes lit up. I had inspired her.

And, look. I’m writing. Even just a bit to start when I feel like I have more of a moment of clarity when my head pounds less. This is good. This is inspiration. And, I especially love where that inspiration comes from.




Where do you find inspiration?


@Ybbeige
www.barbarabeige.com
http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

Missing Me

I try so hard to be a positive person. I like to look at the glass half full. I try to find the good in everything. I appreciate even the small things in my life. I say I live in a world of fluffy bunnies and happy rainbows. What could be happier than that? But, sometimes, even the most positive of people can be down. Can be frustrated. I’m finding myself going there.

I’ve had this concussion for over 3 weeks now. It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced. I’m forgetting what it feels like to not have my head pound constantly. I so miss music. I never imagined not having music every day in my life. You may remember that I even blogged about that. I’m lucky that I can now listen to a few songs now and then…if they are quiet. I was never much of a tv person but an occasional show to laugh at or with would be nice. I can almost watch a half hour sitcom. As long as I mute the commercials (and loud introduction…like the Big Bang Theory song that usually I’d find so catchy) and close my eyes during those. They are too flashy and over-stimulating for my head.

Everything feels so over-stimulating most of the time. 

I feel like I’m losing myself and who I am. The me who likes to write and express myself with words. I come up with little quips occasionally that I’ll tweet. I rarely get on Facebook these days to see what is going on with friends and family. I miss wishing them Happy Birthdays. The flickering of the computer more that twenty minutes once or twice a day is more than my head really wants. Thoughts come to me of things I’d like to write about. I jot them down. On paper. Hoping that I’ll be up for it at some point.

From the outside I look fine. People look at me and wonder why I’m not back to work. Why I’m not out and about doing things. That’s probably the most frustrating part for me. I’ve always considered myself to be a strong and tough woman (I do have those German genes that I always say add to my strength). Yea, I look fine. But put me anywhere with flickering fluorescent lights or loud sounds or lots of movement and visual stimulation and I’m not fine. Not in my head. And, then not in my belly. Nausea kicks in. How can even the toughest be fine if they feel like I do? I’m the one who had surgery last year without general anesthesia. What the heck?

So, I’m just feeling like I just need to express some frustration. Tell people where I’ve been. I have a CT scan tomorrow that I hope will give us some answers on why I’m still feeling like I am. Just so you know…I hadn’t gone into hiding. I just rest a lot. With my eyes closed. I want to come back soon. I want to come back to being me. I want my glass to fill up. I want to see those fluffy bunnies and happy rainbows again. Wish me luck. 

@Ybbeige

www.barbarabeige.com

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

And the Gallinippers Fly

5-11 Sexy Boi-Sexy Twang describes having a large insect in Illinois. Here, we call them crane flies. There, they call them gallinippers. I think that is a rather fun word to describe this harmless creature (though the word is also used to describe a vicious large mosquito out Michigan way). So, I came up with this little poem where I can say gallinipper lots.

Almost 2-1/2 inches long, these critters can seem quite daunting.

Spring ponds warm
And the gallinippers fly.

Adrift on the wind
And the gallinippers fly.

Pulled by currents
And the gallinippers fly.

Only days to live
And the gallinippers fly.

Thoughts of mating
And the gallinippers fly.

The gallinippers fly
The gallinippers fly.





@Ybbeige
www.barbarabeige.com
http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

The Baby Photo Dating Story

I thought I'd try a little photo story of how I met 5-11 Sexy Boi-Sexy Twang. These are actual baby pictures of me. (My parents paid real, hard-earned money for them; if you can believe it). My relationship with her is really not as painful as it may appear to be in the photos below. Lol.

What?! Who me? Date? Gosh, no. I'm not ready. Just got out of a relationship.

I need to take time for me. I have no interest in getting out there for a while.

But, I'll chat with this nice girl who follows me on Twitter. Just as friends.

DMs back and forth. Then Facebook. Then texts. Then talk.

Wow! She sounds nothing like I expected. Where'd she get that sexy twang?

I have a thing for accents.

Oh my god! We talk for how long each night? 

Thank goodness we have Verizon-to-Verizon free calls.

And this is as friends? We're becoming good friends. Really good friends.

Something is going on inside me. I'm pretty sure it's not just gas.

I think I might really like her. As more than friends.

Yea. I do.

Oh my god, I really do.

It's an amazing connection. Started from the inside out.

We can't get enough of each other.

This long distance thing between visits will be hard.

I'll try not to be sad when we're apart.

I'm just so content. I feel so accepted for who I am.

Everyone deserves to feel this way.

Here's hoping this grows up into something big.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com

Unexpectations (Kindle version)

Sex and Yogurt Abs

Sometimes things change suddenly. Sometimes things change so slowly that you may not have noticed. I had one of those, “Wow, that’s different” realizations this past weekend. I realized that I actually had abs. Almost like a six pack type of thing going on.

I was sorting through clothes in my drawers and closet. Switching out winter stuff and getting out more shorts and summer wear (though the temps are still questionably cold for Maine). There were lots of things to try on. Some that I vaguely remember being big from last summer and some things I was shrinking out of this past winter. Why put it away when I don’t ever plan on going back up in size?

So, standing in front of my mirrored closet doors (oh, the wonders of 70s architecture), I saw that I actually had definition. Woohoo. Rockin’ the abs!

The funny thing is that I haven’t been trying for them. I mean I do eat right. Lots of protein. Every morning I eat a bowl of plain Chobani Greek Yogurt with flaxseed meal, wheat germ and some type of fruit mixed into it. Usually half a banana. Switching to yogurt versus having cereal every morning has made a difference in weight loss/weight maintenance for me. And, it’s made a difference in what fits and what doesn’t; and obviously in what my abs are looking like.

I started with vanilla yogurt then went to plain and added my own honey.
Now, I skip the extra carbs and sugar and get my sweetness from the wheat germ and fruit.

Besides the yogurt, I do exercise. Well, the only “formal” exercise I do is one weekly yoga class (if I’m lucky). I try to do a few sit ups and pushups every other day or so. Plus, I try to walk on the beach a few times a week because I just love to be by the ocean. Exercise that doesn’t seem like exercise is my favorite kind.

One of the best exercises that fits into that category is sex. (Masturbation is a close second). Especially for an ab workout. You tighten every muscle and then relax it again. Your heart rate goes up. Way up sometimes. You burn 144 calories every thirty minutes having sex. It’s a good thing, as Martha would say.

Since 5-11 Sexy Boi has come into my life, I think that has made a world of difference for my abs and my body. I’m sure as heck smiling more. Smiling may not burn calories but kissing does. Making out burns 268 calories every half hour. My kind of workout.

Maybe the yogurt thing had started working for me, but having a sexy sexual girlfriend has just pushed my body to a new level. (Now, here’s where most people cringe at the thought of their parents reading their blog and putting out there, “Hey, Mom and Dad… I’m having sex and lots of it. Oh well, the fun of being me. Winky face.)

So, grab some yogurt. Grab a mate and have sex. Lots of sex. Before you know it, you’ll be rockin’ the abs.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com
Unexpectations for Kindle

Dang! It’s Still a 4-Letter Word

Some people swear. Some people swear a lot. As the saying goes, they swear like truckers or sailors. Every other word out of their mouth is F this or S that.

Some people don’t swear. And they live in convents or are under the age of three. Or, they are me. Seriously. I feel like I need to join some special group to admit that.

“Hi. My name is Barbara. And, I don’t swear.”

Swearing has become such a part of society and culture. It’s everywhere. Heard everywhere. Seen everywhere. Sung everywhere. But, should it be?

Now I’ve heard swear words used positively, like, “Hot Damn!” and that doesn’t bother me at all. It just seems that most of the time swear words are used in anger or in a negative way. Are we so “glass-is-half-empty” in our society that we can’t find better things to say about someone or something?

This is from a great Youtube video that actually has a swear word in the title.
I replace "stuff" with the regularly used S word.
"Stuff" Yogis Say
Totally, totally funny. Oh, yea, and they bleep out the F word in it once too.

I’ve tried swearing. I had a friend who was trying to get me to swear more. It just didn’t seem natural. Maybe it was the years of getting my mouth washed out with soap that keeps me from cussing? I swear I was sixteen the last time I tasted a bar of soap (probably Irish Spring or Fels Naptha. They were both used frequently on me).

Yea, I got my mouthed out with laundry soap.
Don't you love the warning: "Caution: Eye and Skin Irritant?"
Once the wrapper is gone, parents don't see that.
This also works good on drying up poison ivy by the way...

So, now, the harshest word I usually say is, “Dang!” “Drat!” would be my second most used word of that sort. Dang seems to be one of those words that you can say and people don’t even flinch at it. Not really even considered a swear word by most. I don’t think the “Dang” sounds that bad from me, especially since I’ve noticed that my drawl seems to be coming out more lately. It may be because I am very relaxed again combined with the fact that I talk constantly with a friend who also has a drawl. You know, one of those sexy drawls… Don’t ask me where mine came from. None of my family or friends in Upstate NY seems to have my same accent. But, it sounds kinda southern so the Dang just slides out.

Is that what happens with people who swear? The words just slide out? At least when I say, “Dang,” I’m rarely angry. It’s more of a ‘Gee whiz, Beaver,’ kind of usage. Maybe people should just smile more and swear less? Take things with a grain of salt (or a spoonful of sugar)? Sure makes life taste better than a mouthful of soap.

So, do you swear? Do you swear a lot? What do you think about swearing in public? Or, in front of young children or older folks? Please leave your comments below.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com