Sexeteria

Sometimes the thought of blogging can be a pain in the ass, but it does have one fucking amazingly positive aspect to it. And that's it's just ME, raw and uncensored. Always. No one can tell me to refine it or make it better or that I should do it a different way. Or to not talk. People can read or not, and it doesn't mean much; I can keep writing or not, as I please. No one can try strongarming me with threats of firing, financial loss, audience need, or witholding of affection to change the way I express myself or what I choose to say or do on this blog. It's all my choice, and I've deliberately made choices to this point about how to operate on this blog that would protect me from any such influences ruining my ability to speak and act on here exactly how I feel like.

Because sometimes it can feel like my whole life has been a series of situations where I'm being evaluated, and then being told I've done it wrong, or could have done it better. No matter how good I am, someone has to tweak it, or ask me why I didn't do it some other way that they think is better. I grew up with that shit, and then I ironically chose a career that's full of that shit. I've chosen relationships that were all about that shit. I've chosen a life full of my first effort never being fucking enough, never just fucking being appreciated for what's there.

I'm sick of always being evaluated for how close everything I do comes up to par. I'm sick of the sense that there even IS a fucking par. I'm a good person. I'm fucking TRYING. ALL. THE. TIME. Goddammit! Isn't that what's important? The effort, not the execution?

Well, I'm tired. And I'm not your fucking frilly boardwalk prize doll. Stop picking everything I do apart. Just fucking love me, accept me, or get the fuck out. And that declaration is addressed to myself as well.

On days like today, I look back at all the choices and steps I've made in my life and have to fight off a feeling of despair. Why would I have chosen some of the things I did, back when I did? And now, it's so hard to change some of it. For instance, let's say I suddenly realize I've chosen a career that reinforces the worst patterns in my life. The ones that revolve around fueling my negativity about myself. Well. A whole new career? What the fuck will I do and how can I afford THAT? And how about my friends? My relationships?

It's all so much fucking work. A whole life overhaul? Jesus. I've been working fucking hard enough as it is.

I just feel so angry at myself. I feel as if, if I'd been able to make better, smarter choices; if I'd been more impenetrable or more conscious of the forces around me, I wouldn't be in this place.

And there. There's the editorial shit again. As you see, it never stops. "Why the fuck did you choose that? Wipe that; make it better." If I don't choose someone else who will say it to me, I'll say it to myself.

Well, even if I do, at least here, no one can tell me I said it wrong. Or, I suppose they could, in comments. But no one can *make* me change what I wrote because they want me to give them something else. A better, more improved me...who isn't me at all. On here, you get whatever I'm giving out, no more, no less. It is what it is. And that's all it has to be.