Busybodies

I must admit that this post has been stewing and brewing for a while now. I have not been sure whether it would become a blog topic. Everything that bothers me, makes me happy, upsets me, or interests me pushes at my mind until I write about it. Writing is the method by which I purge my mind/heart of thoughts and feelings. Most often, I take my them to my little black journal where, hopefully, they will live unseen by anyone but me. This has been an "on the fence" topic until today. Today, I'm going to share a little of it. The rest will go to my journal.

I spent the better part of the afternoon thinking over the shoes I've loved in my life. It was hard to find photos of most of them but I was successful with a few of the more recent ones. I was really excited to find an image of my favorite floral print Doc Marten boots. I was obsessed with them in Junior High. They were my favorite. Unfortunately, they disappeared one day, never to be seen (or worn) again. My mom hated those shoes and I think she got rid of them at her first chance. We will leave my feelings about that incident for another day.

Anyway, these have been some of my favorite shoes... Aren't they cute?

I really like colored shoes and shoes with character.

(One of my favorite pair of heels has a city drawn on them,

complete with a canal and birds)

I classify green and yellow shoes as "neutrals" in order to

 justify wearing them with pretty much any outfit.

Okay, now that you are beyond jealous of the fact that my size 5 1/2 feet get to wear such a gorgeous variety of shoes, we can move on to my point: unless you have walked (really walked, not just tried on and looked in the mirror) in my shoes, past and present, stop talking about me, leave my life alone, and mind your own business. (If I were the cursing kind of girl, that previous sentence would have been more colorful. The truth is, I'm never going to be the kind of girl that swears and sometimes, that makes it difficult to emphasize important points. Don't let the lack of four-letter-words make you think I'm not serious here. I am. I'm VERY serious.) If you are going to insist on pointing fingers, you'd better make sure your hands are clean.  These are unusually harsh words from me, I know. I hate feeling angry (and I'm hoping that getting this post off my chest will appease my frustrations) but I'm really tired of ignoring the busybodies of the world in hopes that they will just go away. Face the facts, Abby. They will NEVER go away. 

I'm relatively quiet about my past. I don't feel the need to burden people with the abnormalities of my life or the struggles I've experienced ( struggles that, by the way, they could not begin to understand). Don't worry, I'm not about to dump them on you, either. Just know that, at 27, I feel like I've experienced a lifetime's worth of heartache. I keep my sadnesses and struggles to myself because I'm trying to practice a little thing I call diligent joy. I'm making a 200 percent effort to be happy and positive regardless of everything else. 

Life is, at times, difficult (side note- Life can also be beautiful. For me, that beauty can be found in Harper and Hazel). My life has not been without difficulties. Some of my experiences have left me faithless and cynical. Some of them have made me afraid. I have regular nightmares about my past and they are scary and terrifying. I used to be the kind of girl who believed in "happy ever after" and true love. I used to think that people were innately good and I liked chic flics and cried over happy endings (who knows... maybe 10 years ago, I would even have loved Twilight instead of wanting to gag over the cheesiness of an adult fairy tale). That is no longer the case for me. I've become a different person but I'm trying. I'm desperately looking for the girl who used to live in my heart because I want Harper to have a mom who believes in true happiness and isn't afraid to open up and love someone. (I think moms should be fearless, don't you?) Until that girl comes back, I'm living diligently. I'm working hard and I'm trying to move on from my trials. The busybodies are hindering my efforts, or at least they are trying to do so. I'd like to say that I wish the past few years of my life had never happened. I'd like to say that I wish I'd never moved to SLC or met certain people. I can't say it though. I have Harper now and can't regret the bumpy road that led me to the perfect happiness that is being her mother. 

Anyway, to the busybodies of the world I say: I'm not perfect and I'm comfortable with that. Here is another juicy piece of news for you: you aren't perfect, either. Everyone has struggles. Nobody is without fault at the end of the day. It's easy to do everything right when life is great. Don't misunderstand me just because you have never been in my position (or walked a mile in my fabulous flats, heels, or boots). You bug me, busybodies. Your gossiping, negativity, and judgements bug me to the point of gagging but that's okay. I'm not going to play the game and turn any of those terrible tables on you. I'm just going to encourage you to focus on the positive. If you can't think or speak optimistically, you are missing out and I feel bad for you.