I am me(ssy), unapologetically

If I had twenty five fingers on each hand, I still wouldn’t be able to count the times I have apologized in the last twenty four hours.  What’s up with that?  I’m not running into anyone on the sidewalk, I’m not pushing people down flights of stairs, nor am I even inconveniencing those around me.

I am existing.  Part of existing is sneezing, coughing, crying, and having your stomach make weird noises during the suspenseful (and silent) parts of movies.  I’ve talked about crying in past posts, but I think it is a very important part of living as a sentient being.

Why do we cry? Some people cry when they’re physically or emotionally hurt.  Some people cry when they’re happy.  Some people cry for reasons unbeknownst to even themselves.    When I start to cry, apologizing has become a reflex, and I know exactly why.

I don’t want to be vulnerable.  Even while crying, I want to seem put together.  It’s so difficult to feel like you’re in control when there is snot coming out of your nose, and then it’s on your sleeve, and then there’s really no coming back from that.  But why is this such a problem?  Why do we hate to look a mess when life is messy?

Recently I realized that I no longer want to “hold myself together” when I feel like crying.  I don’t want to live my life repressing the truth.  My truth is that I’m messy.  I feel deeply, and many of my feelings push me to tears. My favorite books, plays, musicals, dances, movies, songs, and artworks of all kinds have a specific thing in common.  They are exposing, vulnerable, raw pieces of art.  They are twisty and messy and complex, and they make me feel understood.  So when I cry, I no longer want to say “I’m sorry.”  I want to know that I am art.  I am me, and I am messy, unapologetically.

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