I'm loud. I'm sassy. I am bursty, pouncy, can hop right out of bed to start my day without needing to boot up, so to speak (Todd requires multiple cups of coffee and an hour or so to absorb it). I'm high energy. I love socializing and being with loved ones.
But to probably many people's surprise, I'm also really quiet. I'm happiest without idle chit chat. I love losing myself in books, good TV shows like Lark Rise to Candleford, or awesome movies like Gone with the Wind. I cherish alone time, recouping time, time for reflection, to gather myself. I am very comfortable with my own thoughts.
I know these things are important to everyone but I suppose this side of myself is a relatively new realization. At least it's becoming more and more self-evident as time goes by. I would have never described myself as a quasi-introvert before. Insecure and sensitive deep down, yes, but I would never have shared that with anyone. I guess that is a new thing too, being honest about parts of who I am that I'm not that proud of.
When I was dating Todd and when things started looking serious and awesome, I had an account at okcupid.com, which was a free, fun site for dating, but also they had really fun quizzes and tests. I used to love passing down time at my receptionist job by horsing around on that site (I had a lot of down time), but I didn't want any guys bothering me or sending me messages, so when the profile maker asked me to describe myself in three words, for the first time I admitted: Bitchy, Loud and Sensitive.
I never did get any messages from guys.
I'm extremely honest. Lying feels fundamentally wrong to me, and so that high energy and burstiness seeps into that side of me, to where it is painful to keep truths to myself even when I know they could hurt someone. I do it, but it wells up inside me. Maybe that requires some downtime so I can let all that escape, slip out so I don't feel so bottled up, like a shaken bottle of carbonated beverage. A slow twist of the cap to let the pressure out.
Anyways, perhaps it's because, as life slips by, you start realizing what's important, and what is absolutely vital to you, as an organic thing, a fragile living creature, in order to thrive. I was always go, go, GO, but it made me tired. I remember breaking down on the phone with my mother because I was so exhausted and spread out too thin, not because I was doing too much, really, but I was doing it with all my energy. I prioritized, sure, but I did my laundry with as much gusto and determination as I did chin ups or paying off debt. It was impossible for me to turn it off, to sail half mast.
Now I find that I will do the go, go, GO thing for certain parts of my life: my family and friends, my fitness, maintaining a household. But I'm also much more protective of the silences I require especially as I get older. Things whittle themselves down according to importance. I'm not as fit and thin as I want to be, I'm not writing novel after novel after novel, but Alexandra and Todd trump that. In the future, more kids will make that very difficult down the line. Eventually, maybe I will start getting up at 5am for an hour or two of me time, of writing time, of thinking time. Because this precious time of silence and regrouping, the me time, cannot be whittled down.
I just do not look forward to getting up at 5am.
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