My Idol

People talk so much about who they look up to most in life; how these people shape them into who they are and provide so much motivation in times of strength.

I never really had one of those, simply because I was too stubborn to admit that I needed strength from someone else... But recently I've seen what a hypocritical statement that was, I have always leaned on others for strength, I just didn't want to admit it to myself. But it's time for me to come clean.

I have an idol.
Someone who I think many woman look up to, even if they don't want to admit it.

Marilyn Monroe is my idol.

Now why would I say that some people don't want to admit they idolize her? Let me tell you a little about Marilyn...

Marilyn was orphan and a model turned actress in the mid twentieth century. She stared in many famous films like The Misfits, Some like it hot, and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She was a sex symbol and proud of it. She was married three times, all of which ended in divorce, and spent some time in a mental institution after he second marriage ended. She was rumored to have been in an affair with JFK, but this was later proved to be a hoax. Marilyn was reported to have suffered from psychotic delirium and sought treatment from multiple doctors (one of whom was the one to find her body). There are many aspects of Marilyn that people would not want to associate with themselves, but for me she's like a twin... A little cocky to say this, I am aware.

Marilyn was a big advocate of loving yourself more than anything; that being a woman was the best thing in the world, because we have all the power, even if the men don't know it. When looking at her life and the way she felt, I find myself whispering her mantras to myself. She dealt with her own illnesses with a strength and grace that really should be admired. She was beautiful and curvy and loved her body. She always had a smile on her face, and if she can do it, so can I.

Someone told me once (before having been corrected about the affair between JFK and Marilyn) that they would rather be a Jackie, having the seat of power and being the public face of a relationship, than be a Marilyn, having the emotional bond and sexual bond that comes from an affair of the heart. It may be bad to say, but I would rather be a Marilyn.

 

Hey It's been awhile...

I didn't realize how long it had been since I wrote... things have just been crazy to a point where I haven't given it much thought at all. Not on purpose that is... But anyway, I guess I should fill out a little of what has been happening...


Let me see...

My boyfriend and I have been together for over a year now. Its been a crazy ride; one that I never thought was possible, if we're being honest. It's not that I don't think he isn't everything I want, or that I don't love him to the ends of the earth; its simply that I doubted I could stay in a relationship without self destructing things. I have that crazy way of making the world blow up in my face. But things have been a lot better.

I have been working really hard, not to fix myself, but to become a better me. I grew to a point where this depression and anxiety was really ruining my life. I couldn't take what it was putting me through, so I took whatever steps I needed to so that I could fix it. I think that it really has made a difference in my life. Garrett and I have been pushed to our limits by this depression and I doubt that we would still be together if I hadn't made the effort to change myself.

I can honestly say that I feel happy more now than I feel depressed. Its a new life style for me. I often find myself restless and awkward because I don't know how to function without that sadness hovering over me. I have more energy than I am used to and a desire to make friends. It's odd if you ask me. But apparently this is the right state of mind, so I'm not questioning it. I sometimes worry that these changes are going to make me lose track of who I am. I'm not sure if this is simply based off a dependency on the depression or if I am truly missing the loner figure that I used to be. The unknown has always scared me and this is truly no exception. I'm terrified of what could happen if I suddenly decide that this isn't what I want.

I guess that is part of the problem. I fear the what-ifs that are everywhere in the world. There is no way of me being able to predict the future and I hate that. I hate not having that control over the events in my life. I find myself constantly thinking what-if this happens or what-if that happens, and no matter how many times I tell myself not to think of life that way I seem to be stuck in that mental state. It just drives me crazy. I guess its true what they say... we are truly our worst critic and enemy.

 Control
I constantly fear the unknown,
Can't seem to let the world lead.
I fight at every given turn,
I try to ignore all my own needs.
I wish upon stars and moons and lights,
Begging the freedom of the night.
Wishing that I could just let it go,
Let my life be wild like the wind and the sea.
I know it won't happen,
I know it can't be,
I can't seem to let go of me.
I fight with every bit of my strength,
To control the world,
Like the fish in a tank.
I wanna be God,
But only to me,
The master of my fate,
Of my Destiny.

How I learned about sex?

            Growing up I was a very sheltered child. My parents kept everything from me and me from everything. No sleep overs, no parties, no hanging out with friends. This of course led me to an extreme naivety, or even ignorance. I still to this day have no idea what the birds and the bees are. While others little girls were talking with their moms about their first menstrual cycle and about where babies came from, I was given an American Girl book, and left to figure it out on my own. At some point in my young life (around the third grade) people started talking about it during recess, on the playground. Well since I knew so little about it I was tuned on all frequencies. I wanted to know what I didn’t know and be smart like all of my friends. The things I learned at that age… I think I must have also been very gullible.

            One of the first descriptions I heard was about a hot dog and a bun. It was simple and made since to me at the time, because at that age the anatomy of girls and boys was far from my mind. I remember when I was told about this a very good friend of mine had pulled me away from everyone else that we were playing with, and sat with me on the swings far away from all the other kids. She told me that she wanted me to be up to date on the knowledge of life, and didn’t like that I didn’t know something everyone else did. I accepted this quickly and was one step short of grabbing pen and paper. It seemed like a note taking opportunity. Needless to say I learned differently as I grew up. I can’t pin point the exact moment that my knowledge changed, even though I do remember going over the concept in health in both my middle school and high-school years. But even when I learned about the differences I still clung to some of my childish ideals about sex; for example I didn’t want to “have sex”, I wanted to “make love”. My world was raised around Disney princesses, and that was what I wanted my life to be!

            I guess it would be a little too corny to say we can’t always get what we want, but that’s the truth in my case. When I learned about sex, really learned about what it is and how it works, I lost that childish innocence and that desire for a fairie tale. When I was 15 everything was taken from me. While other girls were gushing over their first times, I was lost in the horror of mine. There were no rainbows and butterflies, fireworks and angel choirs. There was the cold bed of a truck, the pleas for it to stop, and constant reassurance that I would like it. Needless to say I didn’t and felt I never would. Sex no longer was a romantic and beautiful thing to me, it was a dark thing that haunted me and made me feel less than I was. I didn’t sleep around after that, contrary to the belief of my high-school peers, rather it took me a year to share that with someone again, and very few since then. I had difficulty making an emotional connection between the act of sex and the person I was experiencing it with, because even though it lost its value, part of me still wanted a fairie tale.

            I find myself frequently comparing myself to stories I heard as a child. When it comes to my discovery of sex, I find myself in the shoes of the Princess and the Frog, but rather than I be the Princess, I’m the frog. I see it as me having kissed the wrong Prince, only to find out he’s a witch who turns me into a frog, and I had to kiss a few other princes to try and get back to what I truly am. I think I finally found my prince, because sex now has a meaning for me, and I have that emotional connection that part of me has always been yearning for. Of course, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing about how I learned about sex though, because it made me who I am today. Gave me the strength that I have, and the caution I think I need. Learning about sex was more than just the physical aspects; it helped me learn about me.

How I got to this point in my life?

                   My whole life I’ve heard little quips about how the apple never falls far from the tree; that you are given a hand at birth and you have no option in the way it is played, and every time I heard this I viewed it as unacceptable. I come from a history where drama and addiction are soul-mates that seep into the souls of every branch of our family tree. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove this wrong; to show that it’s possible to avoid addiction and be strong for you. My main adversary, though, hasn’t been stories of my grandmother’s suicide or the exile of my mother from the rest of her family. My problem has simply been my mother. By nature my mother is a kind hearted woman who gives everything she has to make others around her happy. But for years (I believe 12 and counting) she has been nurturing an addiction to alcohol. When she drinks (which is so often that it’s probably easier to describe the times, “when she doesn’t drink”) she becomes cruel and hard, selfish and bitter, and in all entirety the opposite of the mother I loved in my childhood.  

            When I was little I was a soft child who wanted nothing more than for everyone to be happy, and for rainbows to lead the way to meadows full of daisies and wildflowers. When my mother started drinking that world was brought to a screeching halt. Things weren’t happily ever after anymore. No more running, smiling to mom, instead I had to hide in my room while she tore at everyone in her sight. I was so used to being treated like a doll that when the world changed I knew nothing but fear for every step I took and every word I whispered. I began to grow hard and bitter myself. Not wanting to let anyone close to me, knowing without a doubt that they would hurt me. I wasn’t necessarily wrong either. Rape, betrayal, isolation and being used were just a few of the things that haunted me. I grew weak to a point where life no longer seemed worth it, and suicide attempts soon joined my list of woes. 

            But in classic novel form, I reached a climax of emotion and with it came an epiphany; the things I was doing were simply showing me to be just like my mother and the rest of her family. Weak and feeble minded. This isn’t what I wanted; I wanted to be strong and show that I could be more than they were that I could break the system. This discovery of self truly saved my life, and slowly I am learning to love myself again and to allow others to get close to me, while still maintaining a healthy wall of defense. In order to gain this strength in myself I had to learn that it was ok to not want to be like the rest of my family, that it was ok if I wanted more from my life than the misery they exude. 

It was no overnight journey either, and definitely not something I could handle myself. I tried turning to religion, thinking maybe God could give me the strength I needed, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that I was kidding myself; God wasn’t for me, I needed something else. I began to talk to my few friends about my problems and found that the more I talked the better things felt. I began seeing a counselor where I could divulge my mind in safety. I began to trust others and myself. I started the process of growing strong again. This is how I got to my current point in life, a point where I am a living example of how the apple can fall far, far from the tree.  

You don't know me...

All I want to do is write. I just want to pour my soul onto a page and not feel any guilt about it. But there are 2 main problems with that.

Number one is that I will of course feel guilt because I am almost positive you will try and stomach the whole thing.

Number two is that despite the storms raging inside me I don’t really have a whole lot to say. I am at a complete loss for words and feelings.

I have ridden my emotional rollercoaster for the day and have finally reached ground level where I frankly don’t feel anything. It’s a very interesting place. Full of blank stares and empty answers. I tried to read and I couldn’t do anything but fully immerse myself in the depression the book caused and I don’t want to reenter that stage, seeing as how I just left it. I wanna talk about myself. Yes. I am a very self obsessed person, but hey, if that’s a problem you can go read something else. Now let’s see.

 Where to start?

Hi my name is Ciara. I am a college student struggling to graduate with a degree in secondary education, with a focus in English. I like books and movies and music and taking pictures and singing in the shower and dancing and having eyes on me. I am very afraid of what people think about me. I am worried people won’t like me. Some people tell me I am impossible to not love. But I know that to be untrue. Because a lot of people hate me. I could make a list but I don’t think that should be posted so publicly. Let’s just say it’s a lot. Cause it is. Period.

I grew up with a very loving family. Until about 12 years ago when my mother became an alcoholic and I had to readjust my life to deal with that. She is a very angry drunk, but I love her more than I could put into words. I also respect her so I don’t confront her. It’s not how I was raised. We shouldn’t disrespect our elders… my parents have also been very critical of me my whole life. They expect a lot out of me, and aren’t afraid to tell me when I do wrong. So I will quickly point out my flaws in any circumstance, because that’s how it’s always been.

I am in love.

 With a boy.

A man.

A prince.

Someone who is perfect, and somehow, manages to accept each of my many flaws and uncertainties and embraces them. He seems to love me no matter how many times I interrupt him or tell him he’s wrong or tell him I’m worthless and countless other things that would drive any normal man crazy. He is truly all any girl could desire in a man, and he’s all mine. I can’t get enough.

 I am nearly friendless. People don’t like to stay friends with me. I don’t know why. I guess there is something wrong with me. Who knows? I have a few friends but they don’t like to be around me too much. Does that still make them my friends? Or are we just close acquaintances? Once again, who knows?

                I do know that my fingers are beginning to ache and I haven’t even begun to place a dent in the need I have to talk. I truly just want to talk to someone write now and there is no one who wants to talk to me. It’s sad. But this is how my life tends to work out. O well.

XoXo

Video Blog?

Whose awesome nd is gonna start adding video to my blog world?!?!?!  ME!!!! Hahaha thank you thank you very much!!!!

All my life I've been good... But now, what the hell?

Sometimes people don't really know how we are.
Sometimes people fall for someone who is completely different than what they think.

SO I want to tell you what kind of girl I am.

I'm the kind of girl who:

•  Loves wearing men's shirts cause I think they fit nicely
• Would love to spend all day in bed writing up a storm
• Falls hard and passionately
• Can't spell my way out of a paper bag (and expects NO ONE to point it out)
• Will try so hard to be perfect, but recognizes that its not possible
• Wants a prince and doesn't want to go through frogs (I skipped that stage)
• Wants to marry my best friend and frankly won't have it any other way
• Loves bunnies, and doggies, and kittens (very seldom cats tho)
• Will see every one of your flaws but will never point them out (unless your a jerk)
•  Doesn't really believe in second chances
• But would like one if she messes up
• Dances around my room when no one can see, pretending I'm in front of a crowd
• Is afraid of the dark, but doesn't want to be rescued

I feel like that's a good intro to how I am. But like I said, its just an intro. I like to have the audacity to think there is some depth to my personality. Well that's all for now!

XoXo