On Nov 22 of last year, I gave up. Nothing was getting better. Life felt so heavy, so without hope or options. I was in such a dark place. My child’s father said something that changed my life.
He said…”Why, after all of the years of loving others, pushing them through the dark times. Why can’t you love yourself that way. Instead of words of encouragement for someone else… Write yourself a letter. Say the things, you would say to someone you loved. Love you Red, be kind to you. Forgive you.”
So in tears with a glass of wine I wrote a love letter to myself. I wrote about the things I was most proud of in myself. Even if they seemed long gone. I gave my hurt names. I forgave the fact that I was broken.
From time to time I read the letter. Every time moved to tears. Hopeful that things would change, but doubtful…
Slowly they did in fits and starts. Then a few weeks ago I am sitting at a cafe in town, unbelievably distraught that I hadn’t gotten a job that I had three call back interviews for. I felt a failure. Washed up, old, useless.
I messaged a good friend about not getting the job, joking that maybe I should have led with my waxed balls story. My gloriously hysterical Sean Penn tidbit from my days in the Cross.
He joked back… That sure would have clinched the deal, job would have been mine!
And I thought about it. Everyone loves that story, because the good guys win with a dash of sex, heroes who eat no for breakfast and of course…waxed balls.
I had a lightbulb moment.Why was I trying to be something I am not? Going for jobs I would have gagged at before… Where did Newty go? The badass take no shit boot wearing crazy woman…
So I picked up my cell again.. Scanned my contacts and a smile so big and bright spread across my face….
So I rang him.. Asked him if he could meet me for a drink….and I started it out something like this….”Did I ever tell you my wax balls Haiti story?”
Two hours later I had a contract for 4 weeks. I had an advance check after the first week of employment. And today, I was offered a proper contract and job. Doing what I do best….
So when I got home, I pulled out this letter and I read it again. And after the tears, I felt such a sense of pride…. And gratitude. To all the killer amazing friends that I have online and off… To the babes that hold the lantern in the dark. To the beards that give me a safe place to vent or blue sky. To the TL that has listened to me in despair and in giddy glee. Most have you have been riding fences with me for years. And I love you kinky fuckers all so dearly. For what you say or don’t say. For what you share and what you hold in the vault.