Fire

If you cannot take my fire, you do not deserve my warmth – cd

I was brought up to constantly worry what other people thought of me, thought of what I was doing/did, and I sought approval with a passion.  Along the way, I realized I could not sustain the \good girl\ image that the society set in our community, so I soon decided I could never be a good girl.  That did not end my need for approval.  No!  The disapproving voices followed me along like barking dogs all my life.  I am slowly taking the lead and I am worrying less about being ‘good’ and worrying about simply being me.

Being worried about such things led me to spend a great deal of my youth and adulthood feeling defensive and the sense of being criticized led me to dark-hearted places.  And, abandonment and rejection issues, held the hand of defensiveness when I bullied myself.  This created other problems in that I spent a great deal of time, quietly and forcefully worrying about everything I did.  Later, shame and guilt covered me like a cloak.  It attached like a cancer and I fell to great depths of depression in my early adulthood.  I wrestled, constantly with a fear of rejection and a need for approval. I missed a great many good things because I worried over self.  I became very self-oriented.  And, just because of all that, I rationalized that it made me more compassionate for others.  It did not, although I tried hard to think it was.  Underneath that smile was misery.

After late adult reasons to feel abandoned and rejected began my awakening.  I was in a relationship[ with “Please love me”/ “I don’t” and my abuser used rejection and shame and guilt to control me until I broke free and then dealt with real issues of abandonment and rejection.  The dark sky falling on my head was enough to leave me drenched with “I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH SO TO HELL WITH IT”.  

I left my marriage, single parent of seven children, and went to University and took the regular liberal arts classes, along with women’s issues.  Bit by bit, the light of self-acceptance came.  I am what I call a slow learner at life so it did not happen all at once.  It took many many years to find my authentic balance.  I could not expect others to even guess what I was working through and slowly I realized others were not my guard dogs.  I was responsible for self.  There were still residuals of ‘not being good enough’, and still, at nearly 73, I work on setting the boundaries of self-acceptance versus other-acceptance.  Time after time of rejection, abandonment and betrayal taught me new ways of dealing with my addictive need for approval.  Eventually, I have come to a place where I realize, those who cannot accept my fire (my personal reaction to joy, to anger, to sorrow, to beliefs, etc.) then they do not deserve the warmth I offer.  

I have to remind myself, often, that it took courage, strength and resilience to get to where I am today.  I have to remind myself that I am a passionate, caring, loving person, and that I began that by being caring, loving to self, first.  I have taken my power back from other people and their opinion of me.  I feel no guilt at letting go of people, places and things that I gave my power over to. I do not have to stand up for myself.  I do not have to try to win others over.  I simply have to be me, with all my frailties and heat and warmth.   

Bit by bit we all work on self-acceptance.  It is in that self-acceptance that we break free of self-imposed chains.  It is freeing.  I try to stay conscious of when I am people-pleasing and when I am being authentic.  It is funny how sneaky our psyche is.  I am on to her.

I started this portrait using my beloved inks.  Then I drew a face over top of the background. 

I used my paintbrush to draw in the face with burnt sienna.

Next, I got enthralled in dropping ink and alcohol until I had a running mess.

 

I patted things down, after a time for the ink to get tacky, with a printed paper towel. 

 

I sealed everything so I would not get any bleed through.

My drawing still showed through enough to begin the face. 

I went crazy with the sun-flaring rays for hair.

Eventually that became what she is… not pretty, but done.

Let no one put out your flames.  

©Carol Desjarlais 4.25.20