Signed the four copies of the Contract of Sale for my house, yesterday, after work. Felt good, felt weird. Thought the weird might win, slip into ‘run away before he discovers you are just a regular human female, who happens to have a good/often overactive brain, cooks well but is far, far from “perfect”.’
But, remembering WE control our thoughts, not vice versa, “good” warmed to relief then a humming resolve similar to ‘dishes are done…what next?’ (Not to jinx the transaction, but I believe it will happen before Halloween.) This is good, all good.
I drove homeward after FedExing the paperwork, thinking my habit of disappearing is just that: habit. Call it disappearing or shrinking or not allowing myself the same courtesies and considerations I give others – or that others seem to enjoy without the hesitation and doubt through which I filter my worth.
Hesitation and doubt ask things like:
- Do I deserve this goodness?
- Am I worthy of being here?
- I’m allowed to be happy?!
- Can one be too happy?
You get the gist.
Better leave before you get too comfortable (being yourself), or become used to something you can’t have all the time… . People like you because you’re funny…but that gets old. You don’t really have anything to offer but you can fake it for a while… . These are the dreadful old ghosts I push out the high windows, regularly. The inappropriate lessons taught by a sore and hurting instructor. Likely meant to warn and protect, they never served me well…except to keep me small, convenient, manageable. You disappear when you believe such things. An entire person can turn to fine talc and blow away in uncountable specks, nothing loving holding them together.
I stopped at guilty pleasure fastfood to grab our paperbagged dinner. Grateful to have a buyer, grateful for a loving home with The Man, grateful to keep myself together and find the real truth, the real lessons I need to not blow away or shrink.
Hang on. It’s only just beginning.