“Doormat and Boots”…a love story

everything this woman says is exactly what i’ve been working on for the past year. each word resonates with me and feels warm to read. i’m mid-this. but i feel so much better already. i have more inner presents to open and wrestle or acknowledge or celebrate, but growth is happening and i’m grateful.

Basically Well

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Being a doormat, at its roots, is the same as being the dirty boots.

One lays there and takes on All, while the other wipes off an ugly collection of experiences. Neither are balanced and both love from a deep place of pain, in a very selfish manner, out of control and self preservation. Underlying, in both, are similar wounds that cause a fictional story to rerun in their minds, with titles like: “You are not enough” or “You don’t matter” or “You can’t do anything right” or “You are insignificant” and “Prove your love” The titles might be slightly different, their circumstances of origin slightly different, but, the central moral of the story is always the same. It is those old, often used, yet, absolutely true words “You cannot fully love another unless you’ve truly loved yourself first”.

Now, these are merely my words, written out of observation, personal…

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Rusty Glass

thewholeruth rusty glass

Shane said, “How strange that glass can sit in water and not rust.”

Which made me think… Yeah! How strange. And metal makes up swords and is considered much stronger than glass, but water does nothing to glass and eats away at metal.

I hope to be more like glass than metal. To be too fierce or stuck in my ways, to never bend and not have balance as a result of it, is to be like metal. I may be able to “handle” large problems through panic, pushing them away, or fighting through them. But the simple flow of small hardships, ones that come consistently with life, would corrode me.

I wouldn’t deal, or wouldn’t know how to deal, with them. It may be scary to think that I need to treat myself more delicately in times of great stress, or set up my life so that I come into great stress less often. But to accept that I am vulnerable, to let myself shatter when stress happens, is to accept the reality of being a healthy human.

Heat applied to glass can melt it back to its old form. Being warm and loving with myself after I shatter can do the same. If metal breaks, heat can heal it too. But it will still rust in water. And glass doesn’t have to worry about that.