Live Passionately

It seems like a simple concept. Live Passionately. But it's not necessarily true.

When we are young, we are impressionable. We are taught to have hopes and dreams, to go forth into the world for it is our oyster. We dream big and we live big until we run into other people. Those other people then shape who we are going to become and they can make or break those dreams we have for ourselves.

Case in point. Growing up I was "the weird kid". I don't know exactly what it was about me, but the other kids always treated me as the outsider. I was no less privileged then they were and yet someone gave them license to tease me unmercifully for whatever reason came to mind. Now mind you there were a few exceptions to the rule, but for the main part of growing up (elementary/junior high) I was living in complete hell.

I was the girl with the glasses, with the overbite and the great big buck teeth, who was chubby and who went through puberty at the age of 10 etc etc. I was not popular (as proven by the fifth grade 'you can put your desks together in groups and no one wanted to sit with me) or the opportunities to send your classmates carnations or candy canes depending on the time of the year. Mot of you reading this are thinking why the hell does this matter... because in the grand scheme of life, every action or inaction by another person can and inevitably does leave an imprint on us.

Recently, I moved back in with my mom because of certain situations in my life. Going through boxes and boxes of childhood memories and purging items that are long forgotten and not needed. (Being a packrat is part of my genetic makeup, something I fight with and sometimes it is a means of coping when things start going wrong) While going through this stuff I realized I had sketches and sketches of clothing. I loved the thought of decorating and anything artistic, but these were not "practical" dreams. As a child I rode horses. I spent so much time at the farm during my parents divorced I literally lived there every weekend. This was one more thing that kids made fun of me about and eventually as I got older I got away from it, because it was just one more thing that made me different. I was not going to be an artist, I was not going to ride horses in the Olympics and one by one my dreams were squeezed out of me.

I have always been intrigued by the law. Going through a box recently I found newspaper clippings as far back as the early 80's about crime. Then one of my older brothers went into the business of fighting crime and I felt that meant that this area was off limits to me. I had wanted to join the FBI.. I mean how cool right? In 1997-1998 it was made apparent that after a near fatal car accident that I would not be able to meet some of the physical requirements of such a demanding profession. My shoulder and neck have a disability rating which means as time goes on I will lose motion and gain arthritis. There is permanent nerve damage and then to top off that, a thyroid condition has left me fighting metabolic syndrome which can be everything from the under active thyroid, to the fluctuation of the blood pressure, to stroke and heart disease or infarction. This physically benches me from a lot of things, but mentally I am at the top of my game. I recently graduated Summa Cum Laude with my Bachelors degree in Criminal Justice. If only these institutions realized what a prized piece of real estate I am for them.

I love taking pictures. Wish I could afford a better camera set up to take up photography.
I still love horses and would love to get back to riding... what better adrenaline rush than rushing at a fence and feeling the power of the animal under you as you glide through the air?
I LOVE firearms. There is something sexy about holding something so dangerous in your hand and feeling the power as the bullet leaves the chamber and flies towards the target, the smell of gunpowder burning as the hot shell exits (usually hitting me in the face and leaving black powder or burn marks.. depending)
I love writing my thoughts to share with others. Wish I could get paid for it and don't do it nearly enough ( ask me why, although that's another whole blog post in itself)

What my point here is that through a series of events, I allowed others (referred to as them) to make me feel small and inconsequential. I allowed them to deviate my plans for my own life, I allowed them to make me feel poorly about myself, I allowed them to steal my dreams and my future.

If there is one thing that I have learned in recent months and through the recent events in my life is that I need to reclaim these areas of my life for myself. I have given too much of myself to others hoping that they would help complete me. What a bunch of horseshit right? I give of myself until I was broken inside. The sad part is that these kids from my past don't remember the horrible hurtful things that they did. They don't know how they affected me. Maybe they never will, but I have made peace with it. I have acknowledged it. I have forgiven them because children are just a product of what they have learned from those in their lives.

Make sense? There comes a time in your life when it is time to reclaim your dreams and let go of what others think of you because in the end, those that have treated you badly and discarded you long ago don't care about the footprints they have left on your soul.

When you fall off the horse, you get back on and trust me... in my career of riding horses I have fallen, been thrown, been rolled on, been kicked, been bitten in my armpit and thrown across a room.... just to name a few... All you need to do is get up one more time than life throws you down to win, so get up, dust off and hang on because each ride is going to be different and it is never over until the horse is untacked and back in their stall.

Never, Ever, Ever give up