Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I notice the changes in myself subtly.
Not the physical.
I can't see that. And I know it's not changing. My waist is still vascillating between 26 to 26.25 inches. Today was a migraine binge, so I know my weight will only get worse. But I'm under the 127 mark this morning, which is what I need. Which is where I want to be. Which is where I'm required to be. I need to be at 122 by month's end, which I'm not sure will happen, but prayers are prayers, and sometimes, that's all we can do.
It's not the physical.
Hell. It's not even so much the emotional.
It's the personality.
I've worked for years in security. Worked as a supervisor. I've never actually felt like I was potent. Like I had any form of confidence. I second guessed myself constantly. Felt diminutive despite my weight. Felt large and obese and foolish wearing the uniform of a rent a cop. I'd hunch over and hide my head. I'd tug at my hair, or stay hidden behind my computer. I'd lose my cool and let people have power over me.
I'd never felt like I knew what was going on. I was ineffective. I was nothing.
But now I'm not.
I see it in how I act. How I walk. My head held up. Calm and cool authority, clear headed, even while in pain. A sardonic twisted half smile, a quirk of the brows, a stare down that makes men nearly a foot taller than me slightly quail. The unquestioning realization that people desire a defined leader, and will listen to someone who appears to have no doubt in what they want or what they demand of themselves. I step in when those higher up than me start to stutter and second guess, wavering in their conviction. And it's in ridiculous little things. Smooth words poured out to convince a person that we're not kicking them off campus in a friendly manner, but that they want to leave. Or in having the courage to walk up to the announcers booth, head held high, and demand they do something (when previously I had been shot down). It's in the intonations to my voice, the slight movement of my hands, and the way I don't feel shaken after confrontations. We just had to remove a large group of people from property. They became angry, jittery. One of them tried to make demands. I didn't waiver. I didn't make excuses. I told them to go. I stood my ground. I didn't doubt my ability. I didn't doubt why. I didn't say "it's the policy" or "it's not me, it's just how it has to be," or anything like that. I stood there, smirked, quirked a brow, and said very simply, "Please remove yourselves from this property, and have a great day, sir."
I look my bosses in the eyes. I don't dance around my requests anymore. I say them straight out. I talk back, but with respect. I'm not afraid of saying what I want to the faces of my supervisors. I told one to fuck himself, and instead of getting fired, I got what I wanted. It's in how you act, how you move. How you roll your shoulders or how the words slide off your tongue. It's in the level of respect you carry, the approach to the insult, the follow up to the compliment, and the positioning of your fingers against your bones. It's in the sweetness to your smile and the hardness to your eyes.
It's in the confidence to your walk, and the ability to make the snap choices in your mind.
But never decline the chance to accept fault with grace.
Bow when you must, when humility will serve you. Take responsibility. Keep your integrity.
But never let your pride falter.
At least not in front of others.
These are the keys to what I am discovering is my new personality.
My new motion through life.
As if I'm breaking out of my flesh.
There is a trembling insecurity that lives inside of me, hating myself and my weight. But there is a smooth, intelligent, graceful, commanding woman that is developing on the out. She has no fears, and she does mistakes. She is not perfected yet. But she slides like molten metal and hardened steel across the world around her. A bubbly, bouncing, happy, firm, authoritative, powerful presence that is learning how to move the world through her fingers and weave the web of her life to how she wants. She cares for others and takes care of them. She cushions them, pampers them, ensures they are well. She is femininity epitomized in that essence--she touches and coos, mothers and nurtures, yearning to help all be safe yet help them fly on their own. But she is the lionness. The huntress. Stalking and egotistical. Careful to never expend too much energy to leave herself vulnerable. She is the lightening storm that can light a blaze. The rains that can flood or heal. She is the catalyst to society and the lives of those she intercepts. I am not sure what her aim or purpose is, but I feel as if when she is honed, she will remake the very foundationof reality about her.
She is becoming who I am meant to be.
I am becoming who I want to be. Who I was designed to be.
Who I desire to be.
There is no clear road ahead. There is a path, and I will walk it. There is still me--the stumbling and slightly awkward young woman with no idea what she is doing, often times overwhelmed by thoughts. But these days of thoughtless activity--of training and being the expert, of having clients depend solely on me, and of them relying on expertise I truly had no idea I had--have allowed my body to move unhindered by the obstacle that is conscious thought produced by the unseen mind. When I am pressured, when I am busy, when I have not a single chance to breathe, is when I am at my best.
Hand me an hour to perform a three minute task, and you will have it rushed and failed, perhaps put off until the very end.
Give me three minutes to perform a task that would take most people an hour, and you will see work that will blow your mind.
Free me from the chains that live in my head. The plague of words and constant insecurities that drown me. Give me a chance to move on instinct and the person who lives in my soul, and I am a winner who steps over failures, ready for the next opportunity to succeed.
Give me a moment to linger on the times when I have fallen, and you will see a person who is too afraid to even try.
There is something glorious I wish I could unlock in my mind.
Something that I think, if given the chance, would astound even myself.
One day I will tape it.
I will become it.
I will mould myself to be Her--the vision of not superiority, but of non-being--of existing--of living--of breathing--of true worth. A vision of what I should be. What my potential says I am capable of once again becoming.
It will take time.
And it will be scary.
But one day,
perhaps one day,
you will hear my name,
and you will say,
"If only I learned to fly like she did....."