That Little Space

Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world.  -Marilyn Monroe

Have you ever noticed that little space between the outside world and the elevator?  Me neither.  Evidently there is a tiny wee space as you step out or in.  Check next time you are in an elevator, it’s there.  I came to discover this space one day while hurrying at work, surely to just get a diet coke on my break, I can’t actually remember.  I stepped out of the elevator but the lower half of my body did not follow.  I panicked for one second sure the doors were going to close and I was going to loose my leg, or more importantly my cute new shoe.  Then reality set in.  One, I am in a hospital and work on the orthopedic floor so I will be fine.  Two, I was just going to lose my dignity because it was the heel of said cute new shoe stuck in that tiny wee space.  The elevator was of course full with people.  As I very ungracefully tugged my foot out I brushed the hair out of my face, which didn’t actually need brushing, and walked away like I owned the world I secretly was dying inside.  It was so glaringly clear that I don’t fit in.

I wear heels and nice clothes to work, I wear my cool security swipe badge that gets me in cool places and I look the part, most days.  Reality is that I don’t feel the part most days.  I still feel like I am playing dress up.  I love sharing these moments in my life with others because, yes, hopefully they can have a good laugh with me or at me, I don’t really mind go ahead and laugh at me.  And yes I share them so others feel like the situations they are in or the feelings they have might be normal and they aren’t the only one doing crazy things or feeling insecure.  But I share my stories most for me.  I like to keep myself in a place of reality because when you play dress up you can start believing truths about yourself that just aren’t true.  Sometimes that wee space in the elevator for me is that I don’t quite fit in here and everyone knows it.  Sometimes that space is a feeling of total not enough, not cute enough, skinny enough, smart enough, accomplished enough or cool enough.  I know lame, right?   But it’s true some days.  I think that playing dress up helps me fight all those insecurities.  It doesn’t.  I hate being judged.  Hate it.  So I in turn fear it.  Which is slightly deranged because the beauty of people is we all have dislikes and likes and that is what makes us uniquely different and interesting, so of course people might have a judgemental thought about me.  It’s not those that sting though, it’s the ones that take who I am and judge that and I come up short.  Those kill me.  I can’t actually stop people judging me, but I try to control and limit there judgement with dress up.  It doesn’t work.  Haters gonna hate.  I hate that.  So I tell my stories as a discipline to share all of me because the only thing that I can control is, well, me.  And that’s only on my best days, most days I can’t even control that!  It reminds me that I don’t have to control what people see or convince them to see me and accept me.  It’s a hard battle and a tight rope most days.  Some times I need boundaries with people and to share the raw vulnerable parts with those that love me and that’s okay too.  I even fear that:  judgement that I don’t share enough with someone or seem fake because I use a boundary.  See, again this is a process.  I actually had blocked this story out until I was sharing it with a friend as I was heading to get the heel fixed and she started laughing and then I started laughing.  It was actually hilarious and good to laugh at yourself.  Life happens, those wee spaces in our life is what makes us unique and incredible!


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