Roar!

[kukla_tko]

First of all, I was going to friends-lock this post. Then I decided not to be afraid, and posted it as is, anyway.

Ok, Those of you who like posts like the last one, self indulgent fluffy games and stuff...

You might not like this.

Those of you who like it when I prattle on about random things in my life...

You aren't going to enjoy this.

Those of you who see me as more of an Aubrey type, one who uses half her brain to come up with wild schemes and the other half to invent new and interesting ways to punish the rude and the stupid...

Read on. I'm pissed off and its on someone else's behalf.

Dear allura629 (If you're not her, please go read her journal entry for today. "Down." Then come back and read this bit.)
(Sigh.)
Dear allura629
I honestly wish you could see you through my eyes. Truly. You're lovely, you're ALWAYS lovely, and it doesn't matter to me what size you are.
If you were morbidly obese I might be concerned about your health, just as I would be if you were bone-thin.
BUT, I would ALWAYS love you. I truly wish that someone in your life had shown you the gift of unconditional love. I truly wish that your mother wasn't the crazy woman that she always had been. She weighed the possibilities and chose the most destructive path for you because of her own selfishness and weakness, and BLAMED YOU for her decision.

That heartless bitch chose to put you in that terrible town, near DEAD CREEK for fuck's sake, in the house of a sociopathic, merciless, physically and mentally abusive DRUG DEALER, then sent you to a school that would automatically condemn you for her choices...
and then told you it was for your own good, because otherwise she couldn't afford to send you to a "Good" school?

BULLSHIT.
Apartments in Kirkwood or Webster Groves (Or Afton, or Hazelwood...) are cheap. Jobs in those areas are now and have been good in the past. She could have put you in a private school with a scholarship, your grades were good enough. She could have put you in a good public school by moving to the appropriate neighborhood. (I would like to point out that during your high school years, my High School was listed as being in the top 20 schools in the nation. You could get a two bedroom apartment in that district for less than $400 per month if you knew where to look.)

No.
She wanted to live with that crazy bastard, because she was weak. Because she couldn't control her own addictions. Because she couldn't find the strength or the courage to leave him for your sake or your own.

Do you honestly think you were safer inside that house than if you had gone to public school? I would hazard a guess that you would have been safer in the Cahokia public school system than you would have been in that house.
By that point there were metal detectors in place; in your own home you had the gun of a stranger pointed at you!

Jesus!

(Sorry. I am so angry with your mother on all counts that I can hardly see straight.)

And why am I so angry?
Because you are precious. Gifted. Talented. Brilliant. Beautiful.
And to her, you'll never be any of those things, and she doesn't even get it.
It's tragic.

Why am I so angry? Because it's so important that you go to mass on Christmas, but she begrudges everyone their gratitude, their obedience, their compliance in exchange for her generosity. She has never understood the concept of Christian charity. She doesn't get it that you give for the sake of the giving, for the sake of the recipient, not for the sake of their thanks. Not in exchange for their obedience.

Rant.

Why am I so angry?
Because I worry that you could move out on your own, but will stay in the downward spiral, sucked in by the careful dance the two of you do so well. I worry that you will have the chance to leave, but won't take it for fear of failing and having to move BACK there, which would be worse than never moving out at all.

Rant rant rant.

Why am I so angry?
Because your stepdad has major health issues, and your mother continues to smoke, and buy him little debbie snacks and chips. (And I can't understand why someone would be so diligent about keeping the house clean, with a museum sitting room... and then smoke and stink the place up.)

Rant rant ranty rant rant rant.

I'm astonished that your Uncle's cancer comes back... and she keeps right on smoking. You come down with pneumonia, and she keeps right on smoking. Your ear infections come back... and she keeps right on smoking. Tell me, how many minutes does it take her to finish coughing in the morning?

You come over here with freshly laundered clothes... which still manage to smell like they came right from a bar. You're beautiful, and your personal scent is wonderful. I love to smell your hair, even when it's dirty. But not when it's smoky... Not that that would prevent me from hugging you.

Darling, you're a changeling child who got the worst end of the swap. Your mother's scrawny, redhaired, smoking, idiot child is living the life of a fairy princess...
And you got dumped into that woman's life.

Ugh! Or, more properly... UNH!

You will always be my Fairy Princess. Don't let anyone tell you differently.
You are beautiful, no matter what your mother tells you. She's "Joan" after all. She really is. It would thrill me to tears of joy if you turned around one day and said,
"Mom, I am beautiful. Weight has nothing to do with it. I refuse to believe that I will be more beautiful if I only lost a few more pounds, because there will always be a few more pounds to you. I am beautiful, now, as I am. I am loved, and I am valuable. I am smarter than you could possibly imagine, and I will rise above the life you dragged me through up until now. I will be more beautiful than you when I am your age because I haven't ravaged my body with drugs, booze, and cigarettes. I take care of my skin, because I am worth it. I take care of my hands and feet, because I am worth it. I take care of my nutrition, and refuse to follow all the fad diets and quack cures because I AM WORTH IT. I didn't get where I am because you supported me, I got here despite your abuse. You are welcome to your home, because I don't see why anyone else would want to live here with you. Live out your perfect life with your catholic husband, and help him eat himself to death. Enjoy your emphysema, enjoy your cancer, enjoy your tiny little world.

I am going to go now, and change the world."

Because you can. ANd you will. There's magic clinging to you like frightened butterflies. There's power in you, when you believe in yourself and see a clear course of action. There's strength in you, hard steel that keeps you alive and motivated when a weaker person would fall. It doesn't matter that your body might be broken, it doesn't matter that your body isn't what your mother finds ideal. You are perfect, you are loved. You are valuable, you are treasured.

You're our pretty pretty princess, and no matter how many times you turn away from me when I say it, I will still call you that, Beauty.

You're glorious.

And I am sorry that you're hurting. Sorry that The Duck is such an @ss. Sorry that your mother is crazy, and that you have to live in her house. Sorry that your Mr. Man isn't Prince Lotor, although he is wonderful and loves you so much that he doesn't have the vocabulary to tell you. (And we both know how big his vocabulary is...)

I am sorry that I don't always know the words to tell you how special you are. I am even sorrier that you don't believe me when I tell you.

Beauty, you are not your mother. You don't have to be her and you don't have use her standards to measure your life. It is true that you are bigger than she is.
This is true in a greater sense, too. She's a small woman. A very small woman in a very small world.

But not you. You're bigger than that. You are transcendent. You're Big Time.
You're so much larger than life.
You're so much bigger than she is. And she knows it, and wants you to become small like her.

You don't have to be anything you don't want to be.

I love you.

Goodnight!

Comments

[munin.livejournal.com]

My god Kukla, this is beautiful. Wonderful and amazing and from all I know about you I can only imagine that this hardly does justice to allura629 and that she's even more amazing than this sounds.

Thank you for writing this, even if I'm not allura629, because so many of us struggle with the same ideas and issues. And while we know we're loved we never quite "get it", never have it spelled out so eloquently on our behalf. But writing like this helps all of us (I think-I hope) see that those issues aren't seen the same way we see them.

Thank you.