Wednesday, June 24, 2009


It has been awhile since I have been alone. Not the feel-sorry-for-me type of alone. Surely there is plenty of love in this home and in this town. I moved into my new house last week, and for awhile, it was filled with people. I kept myself busy with unpacking, housekeeping, and random bouts of social activity. But Carrie left a few days ago to prepare for her summer-long trip around Europe, and Charles left today to visit home until the end of the month. Emily is never here because she works/lives in Columbus. I have a big, empty house in which to toss around my thoughts and feelings until I leave for my internship in Chicago. Charles is staying with me for a week, and then, once again, I will be living alone... only, this time, in a stranger of a city. I have not really had so much space in years. During the hustley bustley quarters of the past two years, I rarely found the time or desire to isolate myself. It is healthy, I know, but I got antsy. During breaks from quarters, I avoided the space because I feared delving into self-pity.

I have experienced so much warmth and so much growth this past year that I no longer fear space like I used to. I know the facts: I am loved. I am supported. I am safe. I don't need a room full of people to remind me that life is beautiful.

I don't have a problem bearing all. Getting personal.

I dyed my hair blonde and, after a sort of therapy-influenced epiphany, realized that light hair it is sort of symbolic of how I feel about myself, or how I want to feel, at this point in my life. I had bright and artificial red hair from October to early June. Eight months is a lifetime when you're 21. I wanted to be loud and on fire and in charge. It is easy to put on a costume and instantly transform, I guess, but it goes away. What a curious little juxtaposition to feelings of cowardice. Last year, I fell in-love with the idea of instantly and easily making myself feel better when I seemed an unworthy wreck of a woman and impulsively cut months-worth of grown-out hair off. I started the past school year off in a tender place, and I ended it in a confident place. But now I can be soft. I can be gentle. And all the right people will still pay attention, and I will still feel alright. That isn't to say that I will never be red again, or green or hot pink. My reasons will continue to change, as most things do.

Now that I've confused the hell out of you, goodnight.

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