Cool or not, I’ve never been much of a follower.
I mean, sometimes I would hang back and crave someone else to take the leadership role. More than anything I always wanted someone else to be in control. Someone to make the decisions and the plans. Someone to lay out a strategy that made sense to me and allow me to concur, and then start trucking in the direction that would find us achieving the goal as soon as possible.
I’ve always said I needed a ‘handler’. Is that a weak statement? Perhaps what I mean is that I always needed a partner who would get me (even on my ugly days). Understand the drive. Understand the frustration when I can’t make my goals happen fast enough. Understand my fears and my need to prove myself to myself.
Understand that accepting a compliment is the hardest fucking thing in the world for me. Punch me, bite me, put me down but don’t you dare compliment me with a sincere heart. Frankly, you’ll fuck me right up.
With more thought I realize it wasn’t a strong man I needed. It was an equal. Intellectually, sexually (wiggles eyebrows) and emotionally. Someone who loved animals, kids, cooking, fishing, the environment (he’s learning) … snuggles. Someone who would make me feel safe and also respect that sometimes, it’s just safer if you back off and leave me alone. Particularly if I have to write, which is… often.
The compulsion of a brain that writes screenplays in my sleep. I’m a compulsive writer. It’s not something I say to be cool. I flip out with frustration if I don’t get my writing time in. Thankfully I get paid for that writing now, so it works.
When people allow me to write. I’m working on requesting that white space without going apeshit. It’s hard for people who have never owned a business to understand the grind of it. And that as much as it exhausts and frustrates me… I love the science of figuring out how to perfect it, grow it…
You can’t help me because I am a leader. I can’t let other people help me because my standards are ridiculous. That’s pretty consistent with people who are small business owners though. And it is not fair to judge others by my work standards. I have more invested in this… it’s my name and reputation. This business is my baby, and I want to ace it.
I want to be more than a consultant and micro agency. I want a gay male secretary, an aloe plant on the table in the reception area and an office with two dog beds and a Keurig. My dreams are doable.
I also want to lose 50lbs and get a boob job. Again, totally doable. I want to give jobs to people I love, and surround myself with women who feel like sisters. Like family. Not the kind that tear me apart inside because they don’t get someone like me.
There is a certain wall between my personality type that I recognize as leadership qualities. My self-expectations are ridonkulous. I expect more of myself than I do of other people. I continue to beat the shit out of myself from the inside when things aren’t perfect.
“It’s not easy being a cast-iron bitch. It takes discipline, and years of training… A lot of people don’t appreciate that.”
Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio said it in the film, and I’ve always loved her. She’s always a ball breaking latino woman. I watched the Abyss again on the weekend and remembered why I loved that movie so much (and that character).
She got shit done.
When it hit the fan she didn’t crumble. She didn’t look for mushy sympathy or soothe sayers. She didn’t look for someone to solve her problems or say “there there” allowing her to wallow in her challenges or obstacles.
She just got shit done.
And it struck me as I watched the movie that while I have never (and may never) have a hot body like hers I had something in common with her.
Like swimming from one big wave and UP AND OVER only to see another wave and swim UP AND OVER and then another wave …
And instead of needing recognition or sympathy for that these days, I’m just glad I have arms. It’s pretty much that simple.
And I kick like a son of a bitch. After all I am alive right? Life gets easy at the end of life. I might like the adventure of the struggle just a little. It gives me a chance to learn what I am made of.
I like that.
You can go through so much that it can change you; for the worse but also for the better. I see a wall and I tip my head down… back up and run at it. What’s the worst that could happen? I fall on my ass? Yeah… and shake it off and try again.
That’s my life. That’s me. I love the “give it hell” part of me. The best bits are my life are on the other side of those obstacles you know… like treasure hidden behind the impossible.
And I still believe I can save everyone. Please don’t tell me otherwise. I’ll turn up the music if you try to.