I’m Your Built-in Best Friend

Being your big sister will always be my favorite job.

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I spent four years of my life waiting for you.

20 years ago mom found out she was pregnant with you and I was ecstatic. I told literally every person I saw that I was going to be a big sister and how excited I was to meet you. I loved you from the moment I knew you were alive, even if I wasn’t quite sure what it meant when mom said she had a baby in her belly. I remember sitting on the sofa when you were big enough that we could feel you kick; I always put my hand on her tummy and talked to you. I’ve always wanted to be the best big sister I could be, but you didn’t come with an instruction manual and I’ve been learning along the way.

I did go to that big sister class, but it didn’t prepare me for everything! Only for how to properly hold a baby, much to our mother’s dismay. I know you’ve heard the story about how I picked you up and moved you at a week old while mom was in the bathroom; she about lost her mind, but hey, I was qualified! I have the certificate to prove it.

I’ve messed up more often than not.

Whether it was that one time I fell backwards onto your head when you were a month old, or locked you in the house when mom took out the trash and I followed her outside, or when I locked you in the running car in the middle of winter while simultaneously locking mom and I outside when she went into her office to grab some papers. It might not seem like it, but I’ve always wanted to keep you safe (even when I wasn’t very good at it).

I was never scared when it came to protecting you.

You gave me a reason to be brave. Remember when dad had to stop me from charging at that kid down the road who spit at you? My tiny little fists were clenched as I stormed down the street after him when you came up to me crying because he was being mean to you.

“No one gets to pick on my brother, but me!” I bellowed at him; “PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE!” It didn’t matter that he was way bigger than I was, because I was bigger than you and if anyone was going to get in a fight with that jerk, it was me.

That protectiveness will never change. 

When you inevitably introduce me to a girl who gives you butterflies, I’m going to do my best to love her as if she were my sister. She better be good to you because you’ve got the kindest heart I know; I pray she realizes that. I’ll be honest; odds are I’m going to be face-creeping the crap out of her. I will have scoured her entire Facebook profile by the time you’ve made it home from my place. It’s my job to thoroughly investigate that gal because you’re my little brother and I care more about you than I care about myself. Even when if it doesn’t always seem like it.

I’ve been spending my life trying to be strong for you. 

When mom and dad got divorced, we lost each other. I was busy going through puberty, dealing with liking boys, and adjusting to a life without both of our parents; I left you behind and I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you; I should have made sure you were okay too. I still remember when you came to me and asked me why we couldn’t live with mom and dad, together. You wanted your family to go back to how it was, so did I.

You were young and you didn’t understand what was happening. Life got way too hard so damn quickly. I felt completely thrown off by the divorce, so I can only imagine how you felt at 8 years-old when life as you knew it no longer existed. I left you behind; when my life started changing, you were too young to come on the journey with me, but I shouldn’t have let you fall to the side. I should have been there for you, but I can’t change what happened; just know that I’m here now and even if I seem far away, I’ll always be the one you can go to with your problems.

I’ll always love you in a way only a big sister can.

You’re my little guy, even if you are a whole head taller than I am. You’re growing up and it’s freaking me out.  You can call me “munchkin” it’s fine, I’m still oldest and therefore, I know best. At least, I pretend to.

I knew you were always watching, so I tried my best to be someone you could look up to; I know I failed more often than not, but I hope you’re proud to call me your big sister.

-LP

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Feel It

Be Vulnerable.

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It’s insanely difficult to actually do. It’s not easy to allow yourself to feel emotions that you have suppressed and ignored for years, but it is necessary. If you’re anything like me, you’ve got a lot of crap stuffed deep down inside of you and it isn’t easy to bring it back up. Maybe you don’t even want to try; if that’s the case, join the club. We’ll get matching jackets.

I have been completely content with pretending that I was never affected by things that happened in my childhood. I had ignored the painful memories to the point that I’ve gone years without even remembering what happened back then. I’ve gone years pretending everything was fine, when it truly wasn’t. I’ve ignored it all and pushed it so far down that I thought I was fine, or I at least pretended I was.

Today that changed.

Today I actually talked about situations in my past that I’ve literally never told a single soul about. I was in my car driving down the road crying into the receiver about moments that I had tried so hard to forget… I didn’t realize the wounds were still there. I didn’t realize that there were tears I had never cried, but ones that had been waiting years to fall. It was so hard to actually bare my soul to someone; being vulnerable has never been my strong suit, but it was so damn necessary.

I’m beginning to realize, thanks to some wise words that have been shared with me, that if you’re never vulnerable then you will always be vulnerable. You don’t even have to share it with someone else, but be vulnerable with yourself. Let yourself know that it’s okay to be hurt or upset about the circumstances you’ve faced. If you don’t, you’ll always have these wounds that you slapped a bandage over and pretended weren’t there, but all the while they were festering below the gauze. I can’t pretend to be better. I can’t pretend that everything is magically okay now, but I can tell you that while I sit here, thinking about the shit storm that has been my life with tears staining my cheeks, I feel relieved.

Allowing myself to feel hurt by my childhood and the things that have happened since has been a major struggle, but it’s something that I’m willing to go through to allow myself to let go of little pieces of the freight train of baggage I have with me. I want to be able to look back at these events objectively and grow from them. I don’t want this to affect the way I raise my children someday. I refuse to let this be something I carry with me for my entire life. I’ve just realized that this is why I used to take things so personally, because one person would say something hurtful and I already had a pot of self-doubt and pain bubbling below the surface, so their words would cause that pot to boil over, but you know what? I’m gonna be alright and so are you.

We’ve all got something that we carry with ourselves. Unless you’ve literally just left the birth canal, happy birthday by the way, you’ve got some baggage. You’re not a brand new and shiny toy without scratches and dents and that’s okay. You just need to feel secure in going to someone you love and saying, “hey, I’ve been broken and banged up a bit, but here’s who I am.” You’ve got to have the faith that they’ll love you anyway and that these precious wounds are something they won’t run from. If they run then maybe that’s because they’ve got their own crap to work through. We all do, so don’t take it personally; being vulnerable is part of being brave and some people just aren’t there yet. It’s so much easier to always be strong, but the easy road isn’t worth traveling down.

-LP

The Freestyle Writing Challenge

I was hunting around online for something that would get me excited and get those creative juices flowing. Luckily for me I clicked on Unbolt me, hunted through their pages for a bit, and came across this bad ass challenge.

You can check out the post here to see their awesome work and where I got my topic!

So here goes the RULES of this challenge:

  1. Open an MS Word document
  2. Set a stop watch or your mobile to 5 minutes or 10 minutes whichever challenge you think you can beat.
  3. You topic is at the foot of this post BUT DO NOT SCROLL DOWN TO SEE IT UNTIL YOU ARE READY WITH A TIMER.
  4. Fill the word doc with as much words as you want. once you began writing do not stop even to turn.
  5. Do not cheat by going back and correcting spellings and grammar with spell check in MS WORD (it is only meant for you to reflect on your own control of sensible thought flow and for you to reflect on your ability to write the right spelling and stick to grammar rules)
  6. You may or may not pay attention to punctuation and capitals. However if you do, it would be best.
  7. At the end of your post write down ‘No. Of words =_____’ so that we would have an idea of how much you can write within the time frame.
  8. Do not forget to copy paste the entire passage on your blog post with a new Topic for your nominees and copy paste these rules with your nominations (at least 5 bloggers).

My topic was: The Train Journey

So Here it is:

I had always thought that I would arrive to my destination in the simplest of ways, but unfortunatelyy for me, life just wasn’t like that.

I hopped on a train and hoped for the best. No luggage, nothing but the clothes on my back, a pad of paper in my hand, and pen behind my ear. I was ready for the journey. I wanted to see where life would take me. That one way ticket was my only option, there was no going back. Nothing was left for me there.

When the wheels beneath me groaned as they began turning down the steel beams, I realized I had made a crazy decision. I mean, who just leaves their home with absolutely nothing? I guess I do.

Well, now I do.

I had always been waiting for adventure to strike, but last night I realzied that I had been spending my life waiting and not actually exploring or seeking out an adventure. At 10pm, I realized I was done living in such a way. I. Was. Done.

I wanted something new. I wanted to experience something different. So I ran to the train station and grabbed a one way ticket with only one stipulation: It had to be somewhere I had never been before. I couldn’t keep “exploring” places I had already seen.

Where’s the fun in that?

Where’s the adventure?

That’s not me. Not anymore. Now I’m adventurous; now I’m… well, crazy. I’m okay with that, too. I just want to discover something new. Something worth writing about. There’s nothing like that around me any longer. Let’s be honest here, I can’t be a strong writer if I’m only writing about my lack-luster experiences. That’s just lame. I want to be the brave person that puts it all out on the line, the kind of person that chases the story with no concern for where life will take her.

So here I am.

Sitting beside a man on a train headed to somewhere I’ve never been. Hopefully this journey is worth the risk. Not hopefully… It will be. I will make it worth the risk. I left it all behind and I’m not going back until I’ve discovered something new. Plain and Simple. It is what it is. I can’t go back. I won’t.

I left him.

Yeah, you know who I’m talking about, I’m sure. It’s always the same person regardless of who is telling the story. It’s the person that should be enough for you, but just never is. I don’t blame him for that; he’s nice enough, but he’s just not enough. He makes me feel like the wind that blows within me is wrong. That I need to sit down, fold my hands together, and be a good, obedient woman. But I’m not. I never have been and back in the day he used to like that about me. I was “exciting” and “new.” Now I’ve become someone who just bothers him. The excitement has turned into something that’s nothing more than an annoyance; I’m no longer shiny and new to him, I’m a bit roughed up and something pretty to sit on his shelf.

I refuse to be that any longer.

Hopefully he takes care of my cat.

If not, well… I’m sure mom will stop by to check on him. Speaking of which, I should call her… She might worry. But I think she should understand, she saw me as a child. She knew the colors I had within me and the fact that I need to express them in any way possible. I’m not afraid of splashing colors on the ground or running my fingers through the wind, because I am the wind. I’m free. I’m so fucking free.

Time: 10 Minutes

Words: 629

Comments: Holy hell, my hand was cramping like a mother. Also, typos up the wazoo and a bit of grammar issues. It was so much fun though. I can dig it.

Nominations:

  1. Anyone who wishes to try it out!

Your topic: Morning Dew

-LP