Maybe

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“Betcha he reads, betcha she sews. Maybe she’s made me a closet of clothes! Maybe they’re strict, as straight as a line. Don’t really care, as long as they’re mine.”

-Annie 

 

I’ve had a strange attachment to the musical Annie since before I could remember. It makes sense. Little orphan, longing to belong in a family of her own. In my own way, I related to Annie on a multitude of levels. I felt abandoned by the majority of my family at a very young age, and still to this day, at 18 years old, I find myself feeling like an orphan even now. Spoiler alert, at the end of the movie, Annie gets her happily-ever-after with Daddy Warbucks, sings an epic song, and everything is great.

No matter how many times I watched the movies or sang the songs, I still woke up the next morning with a broken family.

It wasn’t easy by any means, especially growing up loving everything to do with books and movies. Everyone gets their happily-ever-after. Cinderella gets her Prince. Annie gets her family. I was set up for disappointment from the moment I opened my brain to the world of literature. Happily-ever-after happened to everyone. Perhaps I thought if I kept reading, if I kept watching, mine would eventually catch up with me.

Even at 18 years old, I dream about waking up to a happily married mother and father cooking breakfast together, smiling and laughing almost instinctively. I dream that they love my siblings and stroke their hair behind their ears to smooch the peak of their foreheads. And we all sit. And we all smile. And we all are one. I dream that I have a grandmother who didn’t leave me the second she got the chance, and instead is gentle and likes to tell jokes and smile really big, maybe even sometimes an uncle or an aunt pops up into these dreams.

It’s naive, I know. I’m aware of the childish aspects of this dream of mine. But it’s as if I can’t help it.

I don’t write this blog as a means for anyone to feel pity for me or my situation. In fact, I do almost the exact opposite. I want to open your eyes to things you may be oblivious to. Don’t take it for granted. Don’t take your family for granted, whether it be the way your mother looks at your father after he cracks the same joke for the hundredth time that day, or the way your siblings wave to your parents with pride when they spot them in a crowded room. When you complain about the way they nag on you for your grades, just remember some of us don’t have that luxury.

Despite the years gone by, I still have hope in my heart for a family one day, whether it be of my own or to watch someone else I love grow a family I can watch from the sidelines.

Maybe the truth is, we don’t all get happily-ever-after. I’ve come to the realization that if we were all happy in this world, it would be a strange world to live in. I mean, just imagine walking down the street to see everyone with a smile. We would all be the same. We have to have some people out there be unhappy. If we never knew cruelty, we would never know happiness. So in a way, it all balances out. If I have to take one for the team and be unhappy, so be it.

Still, when the dream comes to me every so often, I find peace within myself in the few moments before I completely come to in the morning, because at that point I’m not aware that it is not my reality.  Just imagine having a family filled with so much love and happiness you can hardly stand it. Unfortunately, we have to face what cards we are dealt with. And I wasn’t dealt the hand I long for at times. I can’t cry about it though. And maybe, rather than having my happily-ever-after all the time, I’ll settle for those few moments every now and then when I wake up from those dreams. I’d much rather feel the love and warmth of my dream family than never having it at all.

Besides, like Annie tends to say, the sun will come out tomorrow. 

Sometimes the sun comes out with a family, sometimes it doesn’t.

Either way, it will all be okay. It has to be okay.

 

 

Until next time,

 

Tay

 

Watch Your Mouth

“Loneliness is one hell of a drug” -Kurt Cobain

     I’ve never been the center of attention. In fact, when things get to be about me I tend to freak out a bit. Birthday parties were a stressful time as a child for me. They still are. I would much rather take the day to spend it loving someone else. I love theatre, never wanting to be on stage, but rather enjoying the presence of the techie life. I can’t stand things revolving around me.

     That being said, that doesn’t mean I enjoy being pushed to the side like I’m nothing.

     I feel that because I excuse myself from the spotlight, I am automatically cast into the wings of the world where people are put to seem as if they do not exist. But I do. I do exist.

     I feel and I breathe, and I cry and I bleed just like everyone else. And maybe I’m just a leave-able, use-able person. And maybe I’m just feeling extra sorry for myself tonight.

     People don’t understand what their actions do to others sometimes. When you toss someone to the side, you ruin them. You have ruined a part of them that will never be a whole again, no matter how small that part may seem. 

“You’re annoying.” You say. Or you cancel. Or you aren’t there for them. Or you choose someone else. Or you ignore them. Or you belittle them. Or make fun of them. “That idea is stupid.” Or even worse or them all, you leave.

     Picture them as a glass plate. Every time you do something hurtful to them, you’re causing more damage. It could be as tiny as a chip from an accidental drop, or as large as completely shattering them. Either way, they will never fit together the same again. 

     We are so hurtful without even realizing what we do is damaging. We get so caught up amongst ourselves that we forget about how we make others feel with our actions. Think about that next time you say something to someone, or throw them off as if they don’t matter. To you, it may seem like it is nothing. It may even seem like it wasn’t a big deal. But to them, it could have shattered everything that is left of their ceramic.

     At this point in my life, I have become acquainted with the idea of people not sticking around long enough or staying true to their word. It doesn’t hurt me any more. But to others, this could be completely new. This could be what feels like to the end of the world to them because they just do not understand what is happening.

     It is not them.

     Watch your mouth. Watch your hands.

     I am fragile and weak at times. I bend and I break easily. Sometimes, I don’t say things right. Or, in most cases, say things at all. I am flawed. I let people walk over me a lot more than I probably should. I will never have the balls of Meredith Grey to just come right out and say “Pick me, choose me, love me.” But of course, I’ll always wish you did.
Until next time,
Tay❤