Remember that time…

I was all yay!! House renovation done…never again…drywall dust blah blah blah?? Cause I sure do. I meant it. Then some stuff and things happened and then more stuff and oh man…more THINGS. So many things. Things are still happening  and I’m TIRED of things.  Please stop with the things. Long story for maybe another time (ya right! I’ll never tell!!) made short: I bought a house and now I have to….renovate it. Dammit.

The list of the things (goddammit more things) that need to be done is long. It’s as daunting and overwhelming as the last list I made on a white board. The last time. Ya. That was an adventure and it was exciting and annoying and sometimes fun and messy and cold and smelly and we hated every minute of it but we survived and in the end it was so great. This time it’s kinda different: because I hate every minute and that is it.  This time it’s just me figuring out how to do things on my own. Falling off chairs and dropping paint rollers on the floor and I find myself second guessing everything I decide. Picking a colour is over whelming. Cabinet door style is daunting. Tile backsplash or no? I look at what I like and sometimes find myself perhaps trying to pick things completely opposite of what we picked before simply because I THINK it has to be different. It’s like I am forcing myself to not like things I liked “before” because I feel like I shouldn’t or I’m not allowed or supposed to. It’s almost like I think I am supposed to completely reinvent “me” on this journey I am on. It’s like I think that if any of the “other” me is left intact at the end of this, then that means I will be stuck with the “things” that are still hanging around and I will never be ok. It’s hard to let go…This I know for sure: it’s number one on the list of things I know to be true in fact! It seems though, like it’s just as hard to hold on to certain things. There are things that make us…us. They make me me and you you….I refer to this as our you-ness. (Making up words is a hobby. Whatever). Our very unique you-ness is that integral “stuff” that make up the core of who we are as humans. Everyone has you-ness. It’s the stuff inside that holds us here and keeps us grounded and keeps our egos in check. It reminds us of the silliness we imbibed as children and keeps the happy memories close when we need them most. Its our favorite songs and books and our quirks and our bizarre habits. It’s our favorite radio station and salad dressing preference. It’s the stuff inside that makes us different and special and not a bunch of….well sheep. When “things” happen it’s so easy to lose your you-ness. It’s the thing that we should hold the closest during the hard times but, for some reason it’s the first thing we forget because it reminds us so much of the things we want to forget. I didn’t even realize I lost my you-ness until it was gone. I had no favorite song or favorite food,  I couldn’t think of what movie I wanted to watch and didn’t know what my favourite…anything was. A bad thing happened and I got through it but forgot all about me somewhere. I found myself just going with the flow and following the lead of others and I was ok with that: it was easy. Then a few days after Christmas in the midst of this renovation hell and on a particularly stressy and stabby hard day, while trying to decide, on my own, the size of the new bathroom I was having built and where I wanted the tub to go; (which was enough to reduce me to near hysterics) I pushed the radio player button on Spotify by accident and heard an amazing new Kesha song. I liked the song. It was not a song i had heard…and I liked it a lot. I sent it to a friend who I thought would like it too and in turn he sent me a different song which I loved which lead me to look up an album which led to another artist…and all of a sudden: I was finding things that I liked just because I liked them. I sat for an hour doing nothing but listening to music I had never listened to before. I realized 2 things in that dust covered space where time seemed not to exist; sitting on the cold basement floor all alone with tears in my eyes and my head phones in: 1. I need better headphones and 2. My you-ness had left and it was time for it to come back again. I missed me. I missed my bizzareness. I missed my quirks and habits and my own tastes (I. Don’t. Like. Vegetables and that is ok and i might get scurvy whatever!). I figured out as well that it’s ok to still be the me I was before everything was different. It’s ok to still hang onto those parts of me that I need to: the important ones. I’m still me:  just a little different. A little more cautious and maybe a wee bit less trusting. Maybe I’m more willing to speak up and state my opinion. Maybe I care a little less about what people think of now. I have learned, in fact, if people don’t like me that’s just fine by me: every one is entitled to their own opinions but please, just keep your opinions to yourself: they are none of my business. I’m less easily hurt now but when I am, the scars cut me deeply. I have learned the difference between acceptance and forgiveness and a whole lot about understanding and I have learned how to have all of those things. I definitely have a renewed sense of the value I place on my life. I hold my friendships stronger. I am learning to be patient. (Please be patient while I work on that one) I know more about me now than I did before: that is what is supposed to happen. I lost me  and then I found me (on the floor in the demolished basement that is currently covered in more glitter than, incidentally, a Kesha concert circa 2012. It basically always comes back to that woman with me). My very own you-ness is starting to shine again: my True Colors, if you will. Thank you for helping me find them in such a simple way friend. Xo

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