I had a bad dream last night. This is not uncommon. My brain is a scary and brutal place sometimes. Sometimes they are truly fucking scary nightmares–death, disaster, destruction, apocalyptic scenes, family members in danger, you name it.
Other times they are more subtly brutal, like a dream last week I had in which I made a new female friend. She was cool. We were having a lovely time, chatting, laughing, drinking wine and generally enjoying ourselves until she came close to me and whispered in my ear “You know, you are really quite beautiful, you just really need to lose some weight…mostly here, and there, and maybe a bit there” while waggling her finger at places on my body.
What a bitch, right?
The thing is, that bitch is me. But she’s only really a bitch TO me. I would NEVER say something like that to a new friend, nor to an old one, nor to a stranger, not even to an enemy. I can’t even think of someone I would call an enemy.
That shit came from inside me, and it’s been going on longer than I care to remember.
I know I’m not alone in this. I’m aware enough of human (woman) nature to know that. And more importantly, I have so many awesome females in my life, I know firsthand that they struggle with it too and I wish they didn’t have to because they are amazing and I have complete compassion for it when they do. Because I am pretty awesome and amazing myself, and yet, I have brought my own self to tears over the years.
I have had an evolving relationship with my internal mean girl. There were many years during which she was very much in control, very much the internal power figure of my psyche. Gladly, she’s lost most of that control and power in the wake of some hard work.
It was a brawl there for a while, I admit. There was some bloodshed. Now it’s more like a chess match. One she never wins, but sometimes I don’t either. Sometimes we just sit there stalemated, waiting for the other’s move. But, most of the time, she can’t check me the way she used to.
For the record, her greedy power plays for my soul are not only about my physical attributes. She regularly heckles me about how I’m not smart enough, not talented enough, not clever enough, not financially stable enough, basically not…enough. She’s completely wrong, I know. But boy is she mouthy, and you know how it is when you hear something over and over. Even if it’s only in your head…it starts to plant roots.
The good thing is, while I’m still working out why she’s here and why she really truly doesn’t need to be, I don’t see her getting any of the power she has lost back either which is a relief, and progress. But man, does she try! Invading my subconscious…bitch.
I don’t really think she’s a bitch by the way, it just looks funny to type it that way. And I like to be funny. But she’s not really a bitch. Because she’s me and I’m certainly not a bitch. And I have compassion for her too because of all the things that made her the way she is. After all, I experienced it all alongside her.
These days it’s actually more like she’s a petulant child. I like to visualize her that way. When she’s throwing a fit, I hand her a rattle, throw her in a playpen, tell her to go ahead and scream and shake herself tired.
Meanwhile I retreat to some other part of my brain where there’s music and beauty and poetry and love….and where she is more than welcome to join me when she grows up a little bit.
Jessi Can Tell 