Liars, Smilers and Filers

Have you ever had the feeling that you were on a TV show? Like Inpractical Jokers, What Would You Do or Candid Camera? It's a feeling that we all have when we don't truly understand the situations we are put in.

I was coming home from work one day. I realized, there are a lot of people in this world that are not like me. People who take pride in seeing their opposition fall like dominoes stacked up on a table. Those who think they get Brownie Points just by saying, "SHE DID IT! BURN HER AT THE STAKE!" Or just those who prefer you do the task with little to no emotion, just to get by.

I, on the other hand, knew who I was and am meant to be. However, life got to me. How was I going to become unequivocally me without failure?

I tried everything. From going to school feeling like a pretty princess, to going in with my hoodie, hunched over as to not be seen by many.

But what took me so long in finding myself is a question half answered in a rolodex of senarios. Why didn't I beat that bully up for writing terrible things about me on the bathroom wall? Why didn't I stick up for myself at camp that day? Why didn't I become the villain everything and everyone saught to (figuratively and literally) beat out of me?
The question still stands in my mind as I tried to pick from all of the thoughts that I had every night as I stared up at my ceiling. Was I a pushover, people pleaser, or a straight up masochist?

"Stacia WTF are you talking about?"

I'm addressing my elephant in the room that's been invisible cloaked Harry Potter style: my sense of identity.
Who are you trying to be? What are you trying to prove? And, more importantly, who are you trying to prove it to?

The answer for some may be a parent, an entrepreneur, a doctor or nurse, a best friend. Or, more realistically, not a failure to whoever we try to show ourselves to. We fall, we get back up again, we try something new or the same, we fall some more. And, if you're lucky or blessed enough, you see the success grow.

What I can't understand is people who are so successful go into their million dollar mansion (or wherever successful people go, I wouldn't know) and STILL consider themselves a failure!
Like, buddy, we seeing the same shit, right?

So many people seek to please a job, a family member, or a lifestyle. But, what I always sought out to, please correct me if this sounds very Yoda of me, myself. I stop to wonder where I'd be if I didn't shell out thousands of dollars in retail therapy so I can have something to show for my impulsive sperts. To give you or anyone the explanation of why this hasn't taken off is going back to the tear stained, bloody, markered up drawing board that got me here. Who wants to know about me? Hell, who even cares?

Making me not seem like Eeyore, I do find joy in the things I do everyday. My work, my leisure time, my friendships, and my loving relationship. I enjoy making people smile, even if it's just to laugh at me. Unfortunately, I not only have the people that laugh with me, but laugh at me for just merely existing.

A laugh comes from my roommate to find the state of my room not up to par. "It clearly needs to be cleaned," she said with a wide-eyed smirk, obviously knowing why it's that way. We grow as individuals and while a room can fit two, it doesn't always have to.

She knows that, we know that.

One day I sit on the bathroom floor of my job, wondering when my stomach would stop being an asshole and let me work. I retch. I took a deep breath and wipe my eyes as I go to collect my things.

All of a sudden, the devil rears it's head at me into an upward smile as she pours some coffee.

Not endearing, I know, but I'm too sick to care.

The uber comes in what seemed like ages, so I step inside. The combination of my stomach churning in a digestive rage and my embarassment of causing a scene cause me to conduct an orchestra of sobs as I clutch my stomach.

I thought of that smug smile my so called opposition instantly had to see me in pain. I thought of how I would've reacted if the roles were reversed. Would I have laughed in some one's face, friend or foe, while they were obviously in distress? No, I said to myself as I prayed for God to forgive her apparent ignorance.

"Miss, are you alright?" My driver says to me, obviously concerned about my crying and covered over mouth. I go to say yes as my automatic answer, but my body shook my head no as I bowed my head embarrassed. "Here." He hands me a huge unopened water bottle. "For the customer." he says as he hands it to me. I say thank you to the kind man, cracking open the bottle and drinking what I could stomach. I then proceed to close my eyes, seeing the demon who showed itself in full color on a day I was most vulnerable.

What is it that makes me her enemy? Is it because we have different tastes in... being miserable? Or is it because jealousy shines through a grey, dull slab exterior of obvious insecurity?

Who knows, I just work here.

What really gets me going is consequences. I know, crazy right? What would I be if not a muse for such corporal punishment practices? Examples are made of those who put themselves out there for all to see. Those who dare challenge a flawed system. Who are we without injustice? In other words, no, it is not time for teletubies, your alarm clock is going off, GET TO WORK! Oh, you don't like that? Quit! Be homeless! Have no kids to feed!

We're always faced with that reality the moment we clock in to that 9 to 5 (me, singing Dolly Parton in my head) What we really need is a break. A break from the rules society seems to keep on the hush but expect you to know, like chewing loud in public should be illegal (no, it really should, ew) or, being loud, reckless, and ghetto causes us to lose pertinent opportunities we never had in the first place.

I mean, look at us! Do they really think we matter in the grand scheme of things? We're beads on an abacus when times are rough. Always on the bottom, always the dark ones.
Getting out of politics( for now) Don't y'all just hate liars?

Like, boo, we get it. You want a common scape goat and I put on the costume everytime I do my makeup, hair, and outfits different that the rest. I look like a flashing "HIT ME" sign. A target. A deer. It's getting old having to explain myself to a group of pawns on a chessboard as a queen. I get it, I have an ass. Yes, you can see it through my work pants. No, I won't cover it because you think im inappropriately dressed for work. Karen is LITERALLY WEARING MY OUTFIT IN A SIZE 3! But I'm the one in the office! Okay. My lawyer (husband, not a lawyer) is on standby.

Standing up for yourself shouldn't be an outrovert's job. You have rights. You have a right to be here. No one remembers you unless you make your mark. Good or bad, you choose. Why I do for people shouldn't be printed on a bold letter face scroll for all to read.

I live by my own code: Treat everyone with the respect you give on a first impression, whatever else is a bonus and a privilege depending on our interaction.
The respect you give to me is sincerely rewarded. I don't tolerate disrespect, I actually have an allergy. My skin itches, my face gets hot, and I vomit words that look and feel like venom. What I say or do next is a mystery to even I. What matters to me is how I control it.

See, a caged animal can only be poked with a stick so many times until they chew out the bar and spew the words of wisdom your mama forgot to anvil drop on your head as a kid.

Being the butt of everyone's jokes does cause the attention to be on you, even if what you say or do isn't offensive. It gives people the self-appointed right to give you hell for just existing. When we stop to think about all the people in our lives that say, "You can't do that" or "It isn't allowed" just because it hasn't been done before.

Yes, I'm always late to the party. Yes, I talk your ear off when I have something interesting to say. That's how my brain works!

But no one seems to think that's normal. That's what I always tried to do: be normal.

But I'm NOT normal! I'm a silly little goober that likes to play dress up in her closet while painting her face like an animal!

I will never change who I truly am no matter what people say my personality does to the vibe of the crowd. Like it, love it, or leave it, I'll always be me.

And you should too, period!

Stay great!😊💗✨️

-Stacia

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