"I know that I want to concentrate more on my inside-pretty than my outside-pretty, because that's gonna go away. But if your inside is beautiful, it never wears away. The light always shows on the outside if you are striving to be good inside." --Erykah Badu

I've been away for awhile. Going through some change as I've written about before.

Where to begin? We should just start at the root of it all, or what I believe it to be. Something is holding me back personally. It has nothing to do with my professional life and everything to do with my personal view of me.

The ironic part of it all is that I have such a bright and amazing future ahead of me. I can see it, touch it. It is promising... but I cannot shake certain memories of my past.

Last night there was nothing on TV, so as I flipped the channels I ended up on an episode of Animal Hoarders. Heartbreaking as it was to watch, I started to piece together what it was that caused them to start the obsessive compulsive behavior in the first place.

All of them had suffered a loss. Whether it was the death of their mother, or the daily wasting away of their alcoholic father; each of them lost something they loved. As a result they became deeply attached animals as their only way of having an object to cling to.

Animals depend on you. They rarely leave you. They love you unconditionally. When no one else is there, they are.

Read between the lines people. I'm not an animal hoarder, but I can identify with their loss their want for unconditional love and the need to want something there.

Deep down inside me, there is one thing that I have held on to for years. While it's obviously not comfortable, fashionable, healthy or reasonable-- I've had an ongoing issue with my self esteem. Not my public persona, but my private one.

Alright. Now I know what you're thinking.

This is not about being down on myself, but rather thinking about how I get over it.

How do I get this cloak off of me that hides me from being hurt? Instead of hoarding animals or things (that other hoarders show...) I hide myself under my weight, my look... anything that focuses on my outside. There, I said it aloud.

It's been years since I said that openly repeated that or thought about it.

See, I remember the day that the words "I'm worth it..." came out of my mouth. It got me in trouble. Being over confident causes false courage. My lack of being anything less than humble ruined my life, and caused me so much grief that I decided that I never wanted to have anyone's attention for the wrong reasons again. I didn't want to be "outside pretty". I wanted to avoid the pain.

Instead, I focused on my "inside pretty". Trust me, sometimes that was even ugly. Yet, I figured I could be a good person and just hide in my fat suit.

Well, honestly- it's not only getting a little heavy, but worse for wear. At this point, there needs to be a catalyst to pull it off of me.

What it really comes down to is comfort. Living in some form of the past is comfortable. It means you dont have to change even though everything else around you is. You can safely hide in your own ignorant bliss.

But, as I become older... as my life becomes less complicated, more enjoyable and all the things I've placed the additional focus on come to fruition- I'm faced with the realization that my personal life is what I have left to fix, now I need to get off my ass to fix it.

The Faceless Man

For the past couple of weeks, I have been having these incessant dreams about a man (I know, rough dreams, right?) whose face I cannot see.

Now, if the dream was racy enough- would it really matter (joking, just joking), but the part that peaks my interest really lies in the traits of this man and what I am discovering about myself.

For a very long time, I prided myself in being a young, professional, independent woman.  My mother was severely co-dependent on men in her life who took care of her, and it became increasingly difficult as her circumstances change later in life.

Well, I was going to show her, or them- or me... I was going to show someone that I didn't need a man to take care of me, or do anything for me.  I was going to do it all myself.

The plan worked out splendidly for a bit.  I moved away from the small town that was too familiar to me.  I worked hard, networked, talked, canoodled, and shoved  my way into jobs and social circles that allowed me to continue my climb towards self sufficiency.  My mother even apologized to me at one point for not believing in my ability to get it done.  What?  It proved that I was on the right path, right?

Yet in 2004, after my Grandfather died on Valentine's Day, I looked around and wondered who was there for me.

Now, I wasn't on the prowl.  I wasn't seeking anything in particular.  In fact, the guy I had been seeing (I say "seeing" because I wasn't into making a committment, or rather I was afraid of it...) and I had this long conversation about being there for each other, but I didn't want him.  I guess I just wanted the idea of him or to know that someone was around.  Maybe I should have adopted a pet instead, because I was really looking for a companion.

Now, in my climb to the top (my "top", not the TOP) there were plenty of casualties along the way.  People who wanted to take care of me or be nice to me, yet I was too focused to merely acknowledge the basic beauty of what that all was about.  I came to a point where the companionship became more important than the companion.

Enter the Toxic Relationship.

So, for the sake of this entry, I wont go into the long drawn out explanation of that relationship because it needs an entry to itself.  But know this, it was not by any means the relationship I needed or wanted.

It was what society wanted.  It was what my mother wanted.  It was what he wanted- but never what I wanted.

As the Faceless Man enters my dreams more frequently.  He continues to show me again and again what I forgot about what was important to me.  His qualities, his worldliness- the overall  ambitiousness of his nature is more of a turn on than just his looks.

That is the most interesting part right? I guess it's not what he looks like.  It's what has finally become acceptable to me.  It's who I really needed all along.