Revision

You may want to hide the children, I am about to go on a rant. An ugly one. This might intrigue you and make you want to read more. If not, how ’bout checking out some photos of Annabelle getting her first pair of shoes?

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Oh? You’re still here. Well hang on, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

First and foremost, I am sick of being judged. Held to some impossibly high standard then made to feel like a horrible person when I fail to achieve it … and for once I am not talking about my own judging of myself. I am my own harshest critic … or so I thought. (Whew! I feel better already.) Anyway…

I consider myself to be a fairly even-tempered person. I don’t go all psycho on people. I don’t yell and scream. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt and to be forgiving. I will ignore the folly that I see around me. Acquiesce to the will of others. Silently listen. Be polite.

The problem with that? Well, you know, you get, ahem, the shaft. Even when I am trying to do the right thing, I get criticized. Even when I am doing the best I can, I get criticized. Criticized. Given advice. Told I am wrong … or how I could have done it better … or should have done it differently.

And you know what? I am tired of it.

I’ve taken so much un-asked-for criticism and “advice” I just can’t stand it anymore. And, honestly, it’s not even the criticism and advice that bugs me. It’s the implication that I can’t decide something on my own. Or that I don’t know what is right.

Now that I think about it, it’s not even that because I can be polite and say, “thank you for your thoughts” and move on. No, what I am really tired of is allowing myself to be made to feel 1.) bad, 2.) guilty, 3.) stupid, 4.) unworthy, 5.) like a bad parent, and 6.) wrong in general.

When it comes right down to it, this is all my fault right? So much of my rage is really at myself for not being more assertive. For not just saying, “this is how it’s going to be: Like it or not.” For not putting my foot down and being strong. For not expressing my opinion. For being afraid. For letting people intimidate me.

I constantly let myself get steamrolled. And it stops. Right here. Right now. Tonight.

I am my own person. I am allowed to do things differently. I am allowed to disagree. Sure, I would like it if others liked me, but damn it all, I just don’t care anymore. I have to be myself and live my life the way I want to live it. I have to do that for my own sanity. And for Andy. And, most of all, for Annabelle. She needs to learn that expressing your opinion is OK. She needs to see what a strong woman looks like. So far that has not been me.

I am a pushover no longer! And to those who don’t like it? Well …

[This portion censored by the author for your protection.]

Grrrrr…