Proud of Me
I’ve spent the last 24 hours more than a little miserable because I allowed someone to make me feel ashamed of myself, of who I am in one small part. It was someone I love and respect and trust, which probably made it easier for them to get to me, and more painful for me as it happened. I finally realized that I was mad at myself, not them, because I gave them the power to do that to me and I shouldn’t have done so in the first place. They took advantage of the power I gave them in less than honorable ways, and because of that I have lost some of that respect and trust, but I still love them very much, and have idealistic hopes that respect and trust can be rebuilt in time.
That being said, I know it happened now, and I can say unequivocally that it will not happen again. I am not ashamed. I am proud of who I am, what I have become, what I have accomplished, and what I am doing with my life, both mundane and magical. I am/have been/will be again: student, Priestess, friend, lover, family, reader, hiker, writer, librarian, child of the Gods, Cancerian, arts lover, artist, artisan, magician, witch, Indigo, freeze-baby, picky eater, singer, community builder, Light-seeker, and many more things. I am also Pagan, Polyamorous, and Bisexual.
I expect my friends and family, both blood family and heart family, to respect and accept me-all of me-for who I am. If you cannot do that, it is not my problem-it is yours. If you cannot bear the sight of me because of your bigoted hang-ups from whatever source, then you need to either lose your prejudices or make whatever choices you must to protect your sensitive nature; just have the guts to tell me yourself whatever that decision might be, and do so to my face. I will no longer accept blame for something that is not my problem, and I will not feel shame for being me.
I am proud of me.