When I was a teenager, my mom had this t-shirt that said “49% Bitch, 51% Sweetheart – Don’t Push It!” I the wake of almost three years of intense self-examination in the midst of separation and divorce, this is the conclusion I’ve come to about myself, and I’m at peace with it.
I don’t know why I’ve needed to spend so much time and energy to “discover” this about myself. Ten years ago my then-husband bought me one of those new-fangled iPod thingies, and one of the first tracks I loaded onto it was this one:
I knew even then that I’m a little bit of everything, light and dark. But I wasn’t ready to admit my dark side, much less accept it. I wanted to hide it, from myself especially.
A while ago I posted one of those silly Facebook statuses like, “Use the second letter of your first name to come up with one word to describe me,” and this guy who barely knew me at all nailed it when he called me “livacious.” Spellcheck insists that it’s not a real word. Spellcheck obviously hasn’t met me.
I AM livacious! I laugh loud, cry hard, fall fast, love passionately. That’s who I see when I look in the mirror every day, and I love her. My biggest regrets in life are when I was too scared to embrace my livaciousness.
Today, I’m not ashamed to be my best, and still fail. I’m not ashamed of my inner bitch, and I’m no longer scolding my inner child. I still have a ways to go before I can say that I’ve “arrived,” but I’m freer every day thanks to those friends who loved me when I couldn’t love my livacious self. Who have loved me even when I’m a bitch. I love you!