Eve Michele

I was a kid that you would like Just a small boy on her bike Riding topless, yeah, I never cared who saw My neighbor came outside to say "Get your shirt," I said, "No way It's the last time I'm not breaking any law" And now I'm in this clothing store And the signs say less is more More that's tight means more to see More for them, not more for me That can't help me climb a tree in ten seconds flat When I was a boy See that picture? That was me Grass-stained shirt and dusty knees And I know things have gotta change They got  pills to sell They got implants to put in They got implants to remove But I am not forgetting That I was a boy too ~ When I Was a Boy by Dar Williams E.Michele~

Self-love means not apologizing for who I am, for being "different" or "weird" or "extra." It means not feeling ashamed of the qualities that make me unique, even if they aren't acceptable to any/everyone else. It's not bowing to the pressures of society, of my family, of myself to blend in, go along with the norm just because it makes someone else feel comfortable. Self-love means not shrinking down to be the size I think I should be, or what I was told to be. Not minimizing myself physically, mentally, or emotionally. Not feeling embarrassed by my sensitivity, realizing that it's a gift, not a fault. How many times would I shrink in shame when someone said, "Don't take this so personally! You're just too sensitive !" Who gets to define what is too much? Too big? Too loud? Too excited? Too silly? Who are the "theys" that make these rules that I have to follow? Self-love means not worrying so ...

"Think back to your childhood, and write down a conversation you wish a parent of guardian had with you that would have made all the difference." Dear Six-Year-Old-Michele: I know this is hard for you, me meeting a new man and getting married again. He is really stern, and sometimes, even angry, and I know that scares you and makes you feel like you have to protect yourself, so you use your words, because that's all you have. (That's all you'll ever have, honestly, but we can talk about that another time.) But when you speak up to defend yourself, he calls you a "smart mouth," and he turns to me to discipline you, and then I'm in the middle. I can't win. I want so desperately for you and he to get along. I want stability, security, a life where we don't have to worry about how to pay the bills, where I won't have to sneak our garbage in with the neighbor's because I couldn't afford to pay the $7 trash collection bill. ...

It would take too long to even attempt to catch up on the last 6 weeks, so I'm just going to jump right in, and maybe fill in the gaps at some later date. For now, the memories are too fresh and sweet, it would hurt my heart to relive them. Today I picked up June and took her shopping at Ollie's. It's kinda our "thing," we first went there a few months ago because I heard that they had a bunch of "cast off" yarn, so I had to go check it out. We dug around through piles of yarn of all types & colors, including one called, "Toasty." We laughed and laughed over that one, and thought we'd buy it if only for the cute name, but, alas, there was only one small skein, not enough to make anything of substance. So, from then on, our shopping sprees have had one goal in mind: find more "Toasty!" We haven't had any luck in that area, but we have come home with other goodies. Second to the yarn aisle, J's favorite is the snac...