On my Tumblr, I do what E. & N. call “The Director’s Cut” of my old journal posts, a practice they both applaud and cringe just thinking about. As a Gen X/Y cusp, I’ve been publicly/semi-publicly blogging since 2002 so, my argument is most of it is out there anyway if someone has known me long enough or is diligent enough to try to find me. Since I’ve been blogging from a relatively young age, I have that blogger/Gen X/Y tissue thin line between “inside voice” and “outside voice” anyway. I do find much of what I wrote to be truly cringe worthy for various reasons; a certain guileless ability to share far too much with strangers that I wouldn’t share with many friends now as a thirtysomething, very poor punctuation and grammar, run on sentences, jumping from one thought to another with no bridge, too much proto–lol cat speak, a fixation on obtaining the male gaze, a Carrie Bradshaw level of obsession about fashion/brands and a lot of hungry ghosts. But the joy of Tumbling old entries (and I tend to go further back, I’m not ready to Tumbl post-2008 yet) is that I can give “Present Deb” notes at the beginning of each entry with wry commentary on “Past Deb” which is enjoyable for me. I mean, what’s the point of all that feverish constant blogging if I can’t laugh about “Past Deb”? But sometimes I don’t laugh, sometimes I find that “Past Deb” was much more astute about herself and others in that Breakfast Club/Perks of Being a Wallflower sort of way.
Post-divorce, more recent “Past Deb” immediately started squashing any and all Manic Pixie Dream Girl inclinations that I had. After all, I need to be my own Muse, not some whiny somewhat arty boy’s Muse, n’est-ce pas?
Then on Facebook of all places, I got into a v. in depth conversation with some friends about the Muse. Some of it, I’m still considering. But from a friend asked, “What about the Manic Pixie Dream Girl?” I was surprised that this particular friend would ask about her and even more surprised that this friend expressed love for her and fondness for the time the friend spent as a MPDG.
That conversation and Tumbling so much “Past Deb” has me thinking a lot about my time as a MPDG. And there are parts that I miss; the playfulness, the whimsy, the openness to new experiences. Finding this particular entry that I’m going to share here has me thinking more about how to integrate the parts of Maidenhood that I miss into Motherhood for myself. It’s also a reminder that while I’ve grown and changed so much in ten years (as have you, I hope!), a lot of the core parts of myself were already established then both good (being a maker) and the bad (still was an anxious animal). Mostly, as I am now settled (married, condo, bills being paid in an orderly fashion, writing regularly, crafting regularly, settled in my practice, etc, etc) and I’m hitting my mid thirties in January, it’s time to work on getting some of my Maidenhood sense of fun, spontaneous and swagger back! I’m celebrating by listening to Garbage as we speak and crossing my fingers that I’ll be able to make the party I’m supposed to go to tonight! Right now of course it’s snowing like whoa because I plan, the gods make snow.
Without further ado, from my entry on 12/24/03:
Things to ponder from 2003:
Love. Compassion. Strength.
“She [A.] also said that magik is something given when needed and if I had access to it all the time it would be like a happy meal from mcdonald’s. I think there is some truth to that.
* When I grow up/ I’ll be stable/ when I grow up/ I’ll turn the tables
* I dragged A. into the Red Dragon Inn for old time’s sake (it’s free form role playing on aol. A. and I used to hang there a lot after curfew in high school) and we dragged all our friends who were online and on aol in too. Proving that I make friends where ever I go, I said, “Isn’t it a strange coincidence that everyone here is beautiful but can’t spell? My God! I think it’s something in the mead. Don’t drink the mead, people! Beauty is fleeting, good grammar is forever!” The older kids laughed, the younger kids got huffy.
* I am candied in hardness and demands
* We went on the swings, the tire swing, and the rappelling line and just generally ran all over the place. The little kids giggled at us and looked at us like, Where are the children you belong to? You’re not allowed here without them!
* Co-worker: “I just told [other co-worker] that when you call someone a bad pony they are marked for certain death.”
* The lesson I am learning in my spiritual growth is not fun or easy.
* But I wanted to do the girl equivlant of checking her in lacrosse by taking the initiative to say, “Girl X! How aaaaaare you!” because usually that’s Girl X’s standard, but A. voted against it. (“Shock and awe, it’s the american way,” Said JM about my plan).
* (“So some people say, if you are so unimpressed by life, why not just end it all? Oh no. I’m not ready to face *that* disappointment./ Is that all there is my friend/ then let’s keep dancing”)
* J. grabbed me to talk about [a still existing con] at a [my college] Pagan Alliance meeting and bf said something to W. about never getting me back and I hear W. say, “Hey Deb . . .” I turn and she *flashes me* and beckons me with her finger and says, “C’mere . . .” I almost fell on the floor. I was like, You did not just do that!
* Random interuption: I dream a lot that my teeth have fallen out. Sometimes it’s hair and other body parts. I always wake up feeling weird and like the body part is really missing. Bf says it’s a shaman thing to dream like that. I thought I was the only one but when I mentioned it to E. and A. on separate occasions, they said they dream of that too! Isn’t that weird? Does anyone else?
* Beltane tomorrow! BYOG (bring your own god). I have my altar all ready. Just have to bake some stuff. We’re bringing fresh strawberries and crème fraiche (like the barefoot contessa!). It’s going to be glitterfaeriewingriffic!
* No matter how hard I try, the house refuses to become self cleaning
* It’s hard for me to let go of people. It’s the one area of change I still suck at. It’s even harder for me to not wish to witness some karmatic reprecussions of their actions towards me (as R. says, I want to see burning villages, shrieking people, earthquakes, volcanos exploding, the whole nine). And I realize when I think about it, like I said to S. once way back in the day, “Even if you were being eaten alive by a pack of flaming wild dingoes, it wouldn’t be enough.” I need to learn to be more defined by myself verses other people/what other people think of me. A. and I have said, “I really hate you, but you’re supposed to like *me*”
* It’s not the change that’s so hard for me to accept, I’ve gotten pretty good at a lot of its aspects. It’s change beyond my control that I have a super hard time accepting. I think that’s why I am drawn to Eris and Crow, they both deal with those aspects. But this has been a rough year for that with bf being so scary sick and D. dying.
* Wake up everyday that would be a start/ I would not complain of my wounded heart.
* I think the most defining characteristic I have is my ability to create. Interesting. And something to ponder.
* Mom is the closest thing to God I know as her reasonings are just as strange and hard to understand
* I’m working on something that has the potential to go somewhere. And that scares the hell out of me.
* C***** (my company) Australia said to me, “Your blood is worth bottlin’.” C***** US is now speculating whether or not the aussies are a legion of undead.
* I have been called Goddess of Expense Reports. Not my first choice of domain, but beggars and all.
* It’s not always easy being at the top of the bottom tier of the food chain—just close enough that you know what a disposible income smells like.
* if it’s free it’s for me
* Did you know that E. waves at sheep too?
* Reading from the book of JM.: “Life is hilariously cruel.”
* I am such a crap goth, I’m always smiling and giggling
* My cauldron is thick with mischief and possibilities.
* “You know Deb, you are too young to wage battle with the forces of darkness.”
* You know it was a good post party when you’re washing tequila out of your hair the next morning. ::innocent smile::
* I will admit a dark secret—you feel a little better about your current relationship on some double dates. Your problems feel a little better in comparison of the huge Chernobyl like carnage happening over dessert
* Even though I could still see my tummy and I didn’t look perfect, I thought, “You know I still look good.” And that I think was the most powerful moment I had with the Lady because the rest of the day I carried myself with my head up.
* I found myself starting to get into the “eat too much/ drink too much/ want too much/ too much” mode. And depression is so seductive. It really is. And falling is alluring, taking that internal swan dive into I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-anything land. And once you take that internal swan dive, the external swan dive into excessive behavior is so easy. Feeling bad feels so good in a sick sort of way. But I’ve felt bad almost all my life and I’ve done enough swandives into shallow basins of water to be sick of it. It’s *hard* to be happy
* I am not sorry to be where I am. I am generally very pleased with the status of my life. But at the same time, while it is hip and fashionable to say I have no regrets, it’s not true for me
* I have trouble in how I’m perceived. I worry that people will think less of me because of the way I am.
* I mean why is it when you have deep feelings for someone that it’s so much harder to still love them when the relationship changes? I try so hard to not get messed up in the ugly negativity but frankly I fail at that big time. Why is it so easy to want to hurt someone you once loved?
* No one can hurt me now (unless I let them, but what does that mean?).
* I want absolution. I want a pony.
* I just don’t want to wind up hard like my mom
* I’m like, we’ll burn that bridge when we get there, dude.
* What i find helps me when I feel meh on someone is to be super nice. Because either it will put me into the mindset where it will become genuine (the fake it til you make it approach) or I find it hilarious in some kind of twisted inexplicable way.
* what makes me think that I can start clean slated?/ The hardest to learn was the least complicated
* “I believe in whatever gets you through the night. Night is the hardest time to be alive. For me, anyway. It lasts so long, and four AM knows all my secrets. Four AM is when my dreams die.” -“Lost Souls,” Poppy Z. Brite
* “just do me a favor/ it’s the least that you can do/ just don’t treat me like i am/ something that happened to you”
* I don’t know, sometimes I worry that I’ll never be totally happy no matter what I do
* Me: i imagined my life to have more travel and less work and i’d be like a director on a not for profit board and i’d have an apartment bigger than a shoebox and better furniture and my mom would be like totally supportive and um more body shots and more adventure and less cubicle and i’d be like totally famous by now at least in a cult sort of way and like Carrie from sex in the city but less whining and a steady relationship and a pony! and a convertible! and 25 hours in my day and lots of fufilling hobbies and a garden and oh yeah i’d be thin
H: and be dating Angel only he’d be smart and mortal?
Me: yes! exactly
H: so instead, you’re stuck with a decent-paying job with a future, a perfect match bf, a nice apt with little altars everywhere, a mom who loves you (even if she doesn’t understand you), a posse of friends, severeal gods who are sweet on you, a published work, and a future in clergy. oh, let me be sad for you. here i go: 🙁
Me: i know. i’d smother me with a pillow if i were listening to me
* Never apologize for loving. Never apologize for being loved. You will grow up to be something special, something I am proud of. You have the seeds for greatness and failure. You will do both. You are beautiful and fierce just the way you and sometimes people hurt you and forget to live their lives as honestly as you. You are not lesser for that. People will try to make you feel small and worthless because they forget the dream. Don’t forget the dream. I lay forgiveness on your head. Forgiveness for the silence, forgiveness for loving too harshly, forgiveness for forgetting the dream, forgiveness for the ugliness, forgiveness for the self doubt, forgiveness for the self hate, hating this body that the Goddess blessed you with. I forgive you.