“To make yourself something less than you can be - that too is a form of suicide” - Benjamin Lichtenberg
As I was searching for quotes yesterday to use in cards and on various scrapbooking pages, this one struck me. Struck me so hard that I even used it as a Facebook status. (I know, I use quotes a lot for status messages.)
It's a truth that I seem to have forgotten. It's a truth that seems to have gotten lost. Lost, because somewhere along the way I did. Somewhere in growing into a wife and a mother, the things that made me tick, were pushed away for what I thought I had to be. And how long could that last?
For me, 10 years now. It was a gradual progress. Slow and steady, until I looked in the mirror and I didn't see myself. The Chef has even made a comment or two about mini skirts and combat boots.
I only own crocks now. Oh and a pair of shoes I got at the Salvation Army that cuts off all of the feeling to my toes.
So who am I? What defines me? Can the pysdo-Me that I let take over coexist with person I was... the one I am desperately trying to dig out of the back of the closet?
Here goes nothing.
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