- i like to watch people.
when i'm out and about, i like to look at the people on the street, in their cars, in the next seat on the bus. i watch how they walk, how they laugh with their friends, how they're dressed, how their faces reflect their inner conversations. i try to see how much i can figure out about each person from the clues they carry. i wonder about their stories.
is he a good man, is the stiff angle of his jaw a sign that he is belligerent, or carrying unasked-for burdens? is she just a tired woman, or mortally disappointed by what life has given her? does he know that when he falls asleep, the kindly smile he wears slides into a lonely frown?
i can't help this. watching people is necessary for me. i fade into the background, another invisible woman, and i watch, with my eyes sharp. by seeing these people who pass by me, i train myself to see those people i have yet to write about, so that when i do write about them, you will see them too.
being invisible is a good skill for a writer to have.
except, i don't always want to be invisible. i want to be seen, too. i want to have my story read.
who's watching me? what am i telling them with my clothes, my hair, my demeanor? do i seem flighty, a bit of a lightweight? or can they see that behind the silliness, i'm a solid and true friend, someone who can be leaned on for support? am i easily overlooked, or do i catch at the eye, someone to be curious about?
am i seen?
and underneath it all, my heart, which i open up fully now, no sense hiding anymore, no sense fading into the background, not if i want to be seen, not if i want to be heard. every clue i have i lay out at my feet. here i am. no more am i the writer watching from the back of the room. that way is safe, but i don't want safety anymore.
so here is my heart, here is my voice. it's just me. sad and strong, lonely and loyal, silly and sincere. not much of a story, maybe. still, i will not hide it anymore. what do you read in me? when i speak, what do you hear?
here i am.
do you see me?
11 comments:
Squeak squeak, you are NEVER invincible. Not to us at least. We all adore you ^_^
oh bc! you're always so good to me!
i'm all blushful now.
*blush*
^.^
Awww *hugs*
I see you, Toujours.
This has made me happy for you. I feel that too long, you stayed in everyone's background, everyone's shadow. Now's the time. Step up and scream. Let it out. No one will think any different, they'll just hear your message a little louder and clearer.
Good for you.
P.S. Any advice on how to do the same?
thank you for the encouragement, mustard! it means a lot to me, you know this.
now, let's see -- advice?
the first thing is speak from your heart. that's where your true voice comes from, right? the next thing, once you have spoken from your heart, is to pretend you don't give a shit what any one thinks about what you just said. are they laughing at you? pretend you don't hear them. are they sneering? pretend you don't see them. grit your teeth, ignore the qualms that you just made a complete ass of yourself, and repeat.
eventually, you'll start believing, and not pretending.
i hope. *fingers crossed!*
So...
Pretend first.
Believe to the end.
Hey Toujours.
What's going on at Mayo's with the emails and all that jazz?
Freakin' me out 'cause I can't post.
What's funny is, right after I left you a comment, I could load up Mayo's comments. I finally figured out what was going on, just a giant miscommunication. I left a note at L's explaining to her that it wasn't her fault, so I hope everything will be okay.
The existence of my blog happened by chance actually. I felt that it was time to just lay it all out. I had kept a Livejournal for a while, but it was so much hassle getting into. So, I'm glad you've found it [(and bookmarked it, as your's is bookmarked, too ;)]
And I had planned on shooting you an email, but time escaped me.
See ya around!
You have no idea how much everything you said tonight means to me. I really don't know how to express that to you.
I was in tears with every comment you posted. Just to have a tangible, real-life human realize what it's like, to know where I'm coming from and, alternately, the other way around.
I'll take your advice. I wish I had some to give in return, but alas, I don't. Just that maybe we can overcome this together. To coach one another.
Maybe one day it will happen again for you and you won't have to continue to feel the way I do. Maybe one day, what you remember so vividly will happen to me.
Just maybe...
And I thank you for that spotlight. I have a love/hate relationship with it, though. Love for the reasons you gave, for being able to see it and to fix it and to know that it is there, that there is a little bit of me that can still "carry on." And hate because I see what a small thing it actually is compared to the fear.
Last night was the first time I've ever broken down outside of my own head. I'm so glad people weren't up. I was a mess. It feels like it hurts 100x worse when your thoughts actually become real, when you can actually see them or hear them, when they aren't just floating around in the ether of your head. That was last night.
Everything you said to me was exactly what I needed to hear. I wasn't looking for answers or explanations, just words. Anything consolitory. And thankfully you gave me that, and I appreciate that more than you'll ever know.
-----------------------------------
On a different note, I'm so glad and proud of you for coming out of that shell of yours. I see you posting more often and expressing your opinion more. And see? It's a good thing! I enjoy, as well as everyone else here, reading your thoughts. No more backstage work for you, kiddo. Front and center with the rest.
Is this the way it is in your real life, too? Are you working on speaking out more and not worrying about what people think? A step at a time. Remember.
And I was going to email you, but it sent it back to me. Something with the address. I don't know what happened.
i have lots of words, and they don't work on me, more's the pity, so you can all of them that you want, anytime. and isn't that just the way of it? how can we be so wracked with these darknesses, and yet be able to chase them away in someone else? i've seen you do it, read as you wrote just the right thing to give courage to our blogmates, and have received it from you as well.
and some of the things i write to you ought by all rights apply to myself ,correct? it's ridiculous when you think about it. we're each of us a job that's never finished, it seems. i haven't a clue most of the time what to do about my own renovations, so i'll gladly lend you a hand with yours, whenever you need.
and you make smile and glow with your praise. you like me! you really like me! the funny thing is that in real life i'm not so afraid anymore. when i was married it was a completely different story, i had calcified into a hermit with near-clinical social anxiety. i even missed out on seeing they might be giants one year because the thought of going to a show, an open air concert at my local zoo amphitheatre, was just too terrifying.
these days i'm much more confident in my skin, and i like being out and about by myself. i go up to the city when i can, and hope to move up there, to start over. i'm sure i seem very cheerful and confident.
but here, in this blog, i think all those demons get free rein. because i didn't really vanquish them, i just stuffed them down in the basement. and here all those fears that i ignore in my daily life, all those lonely thoughts i keep myself distracted from seeing, they don't listen to me, and they come out, and they take over.
maybe that's good. maybe i shouldn't have kept them locked up so long. regardless, thank you for the help you've given me already in truly squashing them.
do you think if i sent you an email, you would be able to bounce back to me? would that fix the problem with the address?
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