Past vs Present

I was supposed to wake at 6am today. Instead, I woke at 4am, from a dream that felt strangely natural to me.

A man I barely knew, but found attractive, made a joke about starting a family with me, and in response, I spread my legs a little wider. No other change in expression or body language.

At a loss for words, he couldn’t take his eyes off me. After a moment, he sat a few feet in front of me. I scooted an inch or two toward him. Again, I showed no other change in action or expression.

We both knew it then – He was hooked.

And though I no longer play those games, I woke with so many memories flooding in. So many guys I drew in, then put a wall between us. I adored many of them, but I kept a boyfriend whom I didn’t truly love, so I had an excuse not to open my heart to anyone.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But it empowered me.

I’m not that tease anymore. I have grown to be open with my love, platonic or romantic. Sometimes I falter, sometimes I hide when things get hard and I don’t want others to see how much it hurts me, but I openly admit that I care (too much).

And though I have so much love to offer a partner, I am alone. I probably deserve to be. Sometimes I fear the loneliness will drown me, but I have also learned to turn some of that love toward myself.

No, people aren’t drawn to me anymore. I don’t have anyone infatuated or obsessed. I don’t have ten guys texting me throughout each day. I don’t even have one.

But the thing is, those people from my past never really saw me. They saw what they wanted to see. They saw my model-level looks, they saw the sexy body language, they saw the shyness that was only an adorable act. They saw a little attitude, and a little of my good nature, but only enough to enhance everything else. The close friends saw that I was also truly intelligent.

But they never saw past the bullshit.

Now that bullshit is gone and what’s left isn’t always pretty. Sometimes scary, sometimes sad, often awkward and silly and weird. My love pours forth, bringing all side effects with it, and the openness and honesty are so uncommon that it can overwhelm.

I know, I know, I’m intense. But I love me this way.

Yes, I loved the attention when I was younger, thinner, more guarded. I loved the power. I loved the control. I loved the security in knowing I could have my way, any way, if I wanted it.

But now, I love the freedom. I’m free to love and free to get hurt. I’m free to pull people close, and free to walk away. I can pour my heart out, knowing that many will not bother to listen, cannot be bothered to truly care. I can sing out loud, with a terrible voice. I can type out a blog that few will ever read. I can walk a tightrope of faith without the spiked “safety” net below. I can walk into darkness, without voices talking over one another to get my attention, distracting me and causing me to lose my way. I can be excited, offended, hopeful, disappointed, friendly, angry, passionate, uncertain, and afraid. I can live genuinely, knowing that those around me can actually see me – the real me – and all others will fade.

I may not be the beauty I once was, but my soul is more beautiful than my appearance has ever been.

And the freedom is the most beautiful of all.