Blog? What Blog...

So it's been 2 1/2 months...... pretty much all of third quarter since I've blogged. It was a generally shitty quarter, and that's all I have to say about that!


Let's discuss the latest assignment in the Cross-Cultural Innovations class, or CCI--if you want to sound like a government employee, which is always fun for me!!!

So first, some back-story on the class: We have weekly assignments, and we never know what they're going to be. So far, we've had to go to a random place in Atlanta, do some ethnographic research on a classmate (MY FAVORITE!!!!), and bake a cake of our ambition. This is class is amazing! It challenges my thought process on a daily basis.

The assignment that I am currently working on now is by far the biggest and hardest, and has taken me to a place in my emotional mind that I haven't been in a long long time. Basically we have to identify our greatest fear, and come up with a way to make peace with that fear.

FEAR

So my greatest fear is the fear of rejection. Which really comes from feeling that I'm not good enough. This fear has constantly held me back in many ways. But it's affected me most in my approach to relationships, or lack there of. I always pursue relationships from the sidelines and never get into the game. That's got to be the least productive way to do anything. (and maybe one of the most cliched analogies EVER)

AN HONEST SEVEN YEARS

My father's behavior towards me growing up could easily be classified as abusive. I know that it felt like he had destroyed my soul and really taught me how to hate myself. But whenever I start thinking about this, which is happening more frequently these days, I always have to stop and remind myself that my father loves me. I say that because I know I have to. I know that his behavior wasn't malicious, or hateful. It's not like he woke up one day and said, "man I hate my kids, let's see if I can go break their spirits today"..... it just sort of happened, slowly.

If he ever got mad, or stressed out, that emotion would often turn violent or angry very quickly. He would do something to get it out, throw something, hit something, or cuss and then it would be over, and we would act as if it had never happened. For example, one night when I was a senior in high school, he wanted me to write an essay for a scholarship that was being given away by our church. The essay had to be about what God means to me and how religion has influenced my life. I remember thinking that God really didn't mean much to me--it was my father's version of religion that was forced fed to me to the point that it stopped having meaning, and eventually became a chore. It was never about feeling spiritual. So I told him that I wasn't going to write it. He got mad, we both started yelling, and he ended it by slamming my back into the thermostat in the hallway. I don't know if he knew that's what he had done. But he was angry, he had to get it out, so he did. And then went on like nothing had happened.

So the past seven years have been about rebuilding myself and changing the inner dialog I have from my father's voice to my voice. Not a lot of people know this about me. My family knows the least about it. It's hard. And it's because of this rebuilding of myself, that I haven't felt that being in a relationship was the right thing. I've been re-establishing a better relationship with myself. I know I'm a lot better off today then I was this time of year, seven years ago. And I do feel like I have a lot more to offer someone now then before. But this fear of rejection continues to hold me back. So does this mean that I'm going to ask out one of the many guys I find myself attracted to in an effort to move past where I am now, and offer a truce to my fear!? well.... no.... at least I don't feel ready yet. But to be honest, I know there's nothing that can happen to make me feel more ready. All the spray-tan in the world couldn't make me feel ready. It's really just one of those things that you have have to do. It just scares the shit out of me.