Which Golden Girl are you? An existential crisis

I am a Rose. Always have been, probably always will be.

But I’ve spent most of my life trying to be the other ones.

Sure, Rose is sweet. But she’s the one you make fun of for being so innocent and optimistic and ditzy.

Dorothy is the cool one. Dorothy is the equivalent of being a badass, snarky cool girl in a leather jacket, chain-smoking and playing drums in a riot grrrl band and dating a woman totally nonchalantly even though it’s the ’90s. (Very specific, I know.)

I had a *~breakthrough~* in therapy today and realized I have been trying SO SO long to NOT be a Rose. (Excusing for the moment that no one real person can 100% be a fictional character created in the ’80s.) I was afraid as a Rose I’m not good enough. I guess I thought if I really admitted and embraced being a Rose, I’d have to hang out with other Roses 24/7 because the Blanches and Dorothys and Sophias of the world wouldn’t like me.

It’s silly, I know, but I was am insecure.

But you know what? Trying to be someone you’re not is EXHAUSTING. Beating yourself up for not being edgier or snarkier or more extroverted or having more sex is NOT healthy or productive!

Nobody’s like, “Yo, Rose. Quit being yourself. We need two Dorothys instead of one Dorothy and one of you.” That’d be ridiculous! (Also boring, right?!)

It’s like that quoted-to-death saying, “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.” Being myself is scary sometimes, though. I’m very judgmental, especially toward myself. There are tons of things I don’t like about myself (still getting zits in my 30s! constantly running late! unwillingness to go to even the world’s most convenient gym!).

How is it OK to be myself when I “should” be so much better or even someone else entirely?

That sounds like a pretty shitty way to live, though. The only answer is to accept my Rose-ness and trust that the Blanches and Dorothys (not really Sophias, because she’s just so caustic…see? total Rose) of the world will still want to be my friend.

Plus, I tell WAY fewer stories about St. Olaf. 😉

there’s nothing wrong with you

My therapist told me that today. Not in a “We’re done here; you’ve evolved and are perfect, TRUMPET NOISE!!!!1” way (snort). In a “You go through life thinking you’re bad and wrong and messed up and THAT’S why people are shitty and that’s not true” way.

There’s nothing wrong with me. Or you. WHAT A REVOLUTIONARY THOUGHT.

“There’s nothing wrong with any of us–except maybe Trump,” she continued (um LOVE HER). “Or sociopaths, or narcissists, or like serial killers.” I nodded. “People are inherently good.”

RECORD SCRATCH say whaaaat?

I grew up hearing we’re all sinful and evil and hopelessly flawed and only by the grace of some white guy (he was Middle Eastern, but that’s another topic) do we have ANY hope of escaping our inherent shittiness, which will otherwise make our lives miserable. And if we don’t apologize and feel guilty constantly, we’ll be damned to torturous hellfire. Woohoo!

So the idea that there MIGHT NOT be anything wrong with me is a bit of a shock. It’s gonna take a while to sink in.

I mentioned how when I was young, some female “friends” excluded me and were basically catty, petty, insecure trashbags (can you tell their actions were emotionally scarring?). And I concluded it was MY fault they were mean to me. I had done something to push them away, but I didn’t know what (being a self-righteous little goody-goody? being super judgmental?), so now I’m afraid of pushing people away without realizing it. Of breaking some unwritten rule. Because who I am is flawed and not good enough.

My therapist pointed out it probably wasn’t even about me. For the first time, I thought about the damaging family dynamics and body image issues those girls were struggling with. There was alcoholism. One of them was obsessed with getting a nose job–at like 15. Another one of them would come out as gay later and was probably struggling with a sexuality our school condemned. There was a lot going on! It’s almost funny I thought I had that much power over them, when we were actually all just struggling through the meatgrinder that is puberty and adolescence.

Anyway. “There is nothing wrong with you.” It’s an amazing concept! And I think I believe it. We’re all (OK, most of us) just trying our best to find happiness and love and stability. That won’t scare people into going to church, but it rings true. Sometimes we hurt each other, mostly (I think) because of childhood/family wounds we haven’t worked through yet. But we can learn and address our issues and change and apologize–without self-flagellation. Who knew?!

Not me. Not until today.

There is nothing wrong with you.

Where my basic bitchez at?

ugg-boots

Confession: I am listening to Dolly Parton and reading a Harlequin romance novel about a librarian titled Love Overdue.

WHAT THE FUCK

(Yes, moooost of my blog post ideas of late are just retreads of the same theme: “OMG I just realized I can stop hating XYZ and repressing myself and just like what I like and stop trying to be a hipster! MIND BLOWN!” Yes, this is another in that vein. I WARNED YOU.)

You know what else I like, other than cheeseball books and the Gilmore Girls soundtrack? PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES. WEARING FLUFFY SLIPPERS. GREY’S ANATOMY. YOU’VE GOT MAIL. LIFETIME MOVIES. TOP 40 CHRISTMAS SONGS.*

All of which makes me want to stab myself in the face.

Continue reading “Where my basic bitchez at?”