Taking Something Back

Here I am, sitting in front of this screen, again, only days after my last post. I am surprising even myself, but I think it just may be that, being back in the land of the gainfully employed, feeling like I am contributing to society, again, is letting my feel like I am earning the right to have my voice heard. That could also be a whole lot of baloney too, but I can call it anything I like, this is MY site!

I have a great deal of confidence. I know that I am smart, funny, sympathetic, and sexy, damn it! I have earned each and every one of those terms, through a whole lot of strife, turmoil and anguish, and I am proud that I have come as far as I, given where I have been. For a lot of years, being in an abusive relationship, and then having escaped it, I hid behind a fat exterior, and baggy frumpy clothes. I was constantly told I was fat ugly and stupid, no one would ever want me, so I should just be happy with my lot in life. OK, he wouldn’t even know what that statement means, even today, so let’s say I paraphrased a wee bit, and NOT give him any undue credit for intelligence. When a person beats something like that into another’s psyche, right or wrong, it becomes a part of who they are. I have fought against this thought process, since I was 19 years old.

That being said, I am not looking for sympathy, and I don’t want anyone to think I am dwelling on a poor me kind of attitude. That is NOT who I am anymore, nor has it been for a very long time. I am who I am, because of where I have been, and how I have had to deal with the struggles and recovery process. I very rarely have moments where I look into a mirror, and see myself as the person, I believed I was. This being said, the times the reflection becomes distorted again, are devastating, and I react, in sometimes, not the best way I would have, if given the chance to think before I speak.

Being the type of person who enjoys the spotlight, and to be the center of attention, I can be a bit over the top. I am fine with saying that about myself. I often say things that everyone would love to have the guts to say. I often wear things that maybe other women wouldn’t have the same confidence, to try and pull off. I often see any given situation, in just slightly a different angle. I give great advice to friends who ask, because my perspective is generally just on a vastly diversified plane.

To this end, for the last few years, I have hung out, online, in a chat room, with webcams, chilling out, chatting, listening to music, and meeting some great people. I want to reiterate, strongly, that the majority of the people I have met, and befriended, are terrific, open-minded and fun folks! These are the people, who regularly make me feel special, loved and an important addition to their circle of friends. These people I am eternally grateful to have in my realm, and in my corner. They are not the the people I am about to rant about.

I am highly intelligent, and I know that my confidence, and natural attributes, shall we call them, can be very threatening to women who are lacking in these areas. Because I had to hide who I was for so long, I enjoy wearing clothing that can accentuate the parts of my body I am proud of, and downplay the ones I still don’t like. Makes total sense to me, having worked in the fashion industry. It was my job for a lot of years, to help others do the same thing, and I am good at it. Obviously situations, locations, and occasions also become big factors when deciding what to wear on any given day, that goes without saying in most cases.

Yesterday, after a very long week of work, I had no intentions on getting dressed or leaving my house, but that plan quickly went out the window, when I needed to make a quick trip out. I pulled together a pair of shorts and a t shirt, went out with my husband, ran an error and grabbed some brunch. I never gave a single thought to whether or not I was dressed inappropriately. Why would I? I am a grown up, and my mother hasn’t dressed me in a lot of years. I was, however, over-confident in my choice, if you listen to a couple members of the chat room I earlier mentioned.

Let’s be clear. I had a decent bra on, and some good cleavage happening. The boys were all sending my private messages, and public ones saying I looked great, while I was on camera. When a couple of the women started teasing me about it, I was respectful enough to ask the host of the show if I needed to button a couple buttons. OK, it was much more in jest that I asked him, as I was pretty sure I knew what his response would be. It was no, in capital letters, with about ten o’s on it. I giggled, and continued enjoying the music, and a little bit of conversation. Anyone who knows little or nothing about chat rooms, you can have private conversations, outside the public one, and a little box opens that is only accessible to you and whatever person you are chatting with. Well, what happened next upset me greatly.

I had a window pop open, and bright red letters, spelled out the message that I was being asked to button a couple buttons on my shirt, because of complaints! Oh My Goodness!!!! I immediately clicked out of the entire room, I was so shocked, appalled, mortified, and eventually, angered. I am almost 45 years old, and I was being asked by a woman, I might add, to fix how I was dressed. I could have spit nails, I swear. Jealousy is an ugly ugly thing, and that’s exactly where that statement came from.

Now, it really doesn’t matter what anyone else has to say about how the comment was supposed to come across, or perceived, perception is reality, and the reality for me is I was offended. In hindsight, what I maybe should have done, was to post a public comment immediately, suggesting if someone had an issue with what I was wearing, there is a little X in the corner of every webcam screen, that TURNS IT OFF! It’s just like when you see something on television that you don’t like, you have the option to turn the channel. This is even better in that you can still enjoy everything else about the show, but my camera, if my cleavage was so offensive.

I hate that my first reaction was to bolt, and not stand up to my accusers. I hate that I let them, make me feel like I had done something wrong. I hate that, when I get angry, I cry. I hate that when I cry, my face and chest get nice bright red blotches, because, even if I had wanted to go back and stand my ground, I never ever would have. Anyone seeing me would have known they upset me, and I do not allow that to happen, ever. No one in that room last night were going to get the opportunity to know that they upset me. Now, as a few of the people who were present, are friends, and readers, they will know, but they also may know from what direction the offensive comments came. I honestly, don’t care who had a problem with me. Had they been respectful enough to speak to me directly, rather than run and tell “Mommy”, the outcome might have been different, I can’t say for sure, as that option was never given to me.

My status message, for those of you who aren’t friends of mine on facebook, I think says it all, so I will copy it over, and it will be my final thought on this topic……I am who I am, take me as you see me, but don’t try and change me, and don’t hate me because I have confidence enough to be who I am, dress how I want, and say what I think.

Amen, and good night!