wonder woman, she-ra, or charlie's angel

I realized later in life that I was/am a weenie.  This isn't self-deprecating talk or "Woe is me" type chatter.  In fact, I liked realizing there was a distinct and large part of me that was tender (painfully so, sometimes), sensitive (poke me and will I not say 'Ow'?), and often overcome with feelings of powerlessness.  I'm not someone who thinks "Hmmm, there is something wrong with this system.  I can change that!" (emphasis on the "I").  These parts in me shy away from a competition, will avoid conflict like the plague, and cry if someone yells at me.  I like these parts because it took some time and the wisdom of some wonderful people to help me feel safe showing these soft tender spots of mine.  Not only was there beauty in revealing these parts but in accepting them.  I saw that it was ok to be vulnerable (though not always comfortable or easy) and it was ok to cry (though I tended toward doing it privately).

Long ago, these parts for some reason must have buried themselves within due to not feeling safe enough to express them.  When I was young, I got the message this it was not ok to be weak.  Weak people were teased.  Weak people were unpopular.  Weak people were excluded.  Unfortunately, that meant that those parts of me needed to be locked away for only a few people.  What took their place were very tough parts.  I believe that as these things were happening I was engrossed in shows such as WonderWoman, She-Ra, and Charlie's Angels.  You don't need to be a shrink to know what these three shows have in common (besides sex appeal).  These women were powerful.  They kicked a**!  They had all the right moves, asserted themselves and were beautiful to boot.  Oh, to be one of these women!  I wanted to be tough.  I wanted to show no mercy.  I wanted to show the world that I was not someone to mess with.  This tough girl walked around the school halls with a scowl on her face so much so that when I realized that I didn't need "tough girl" anymore I had to practice relaxing my furrowed brows.  This tough girl didn't give an inch in fear of someone taking advantage of her and hurting those deeper sensitive parts.  If you were a boy, and I liked you, than you would certainly be the last to figure it out because I treated you like slime.  (sorry, all you past crushes!  I should have been nicer to you.)

For the most part, I am at peace with my soft parts AND my tough parts.  The former is who God made me.  He uses those parts to connect with other people's soft parts.  The latter served the purpose of protecting those fleshy parts of me with an armor of sorts.  An armor that I don't depend on as heavily.  Sure, it comes out.  Instead of looking vicious and angry, it looks confident and grounded.  I'm ok with that.  People can approach confident and grounded.  I want to be approachable now.  I'm not afraid of "those people" as much.  I see other's human-ness and can connect it with my own (remember: soft spots!)  

I have gone through periods of mourning that I ever needed those tough parts.  Or that the tough parts had to be so...well, tough.  We all need some protective skins but mine was that of an alligator.  I kept the "bad people' away but I'm pretty sure that I kept a lot of good people away too.  I just wasn't willing to take the risk when I was younger.  Yet, there is a time for mourning and that is ok.  Over the past 20 years or so, the Lord has shown me much.  Tenderly.  Gently.  Sweetly.  He romanced me to the point where I could allow the risk of pain for the wealth of having love (of Himself, of friends, of a husband).  It is a sweet story, really.  I welcome my weaknesses more and more.  I certainly wouldn't have written this post if I had not.  I enjoy being the girl--feminine and soft-hearted.  I also like having a bit of sass to spice that girl up.