Bauble reflections

Harrods, or H. A. Rods, Victorian-esque decaying decadence from my twenties full of naivety, hope, bon vivre, and pretensions. Sanguine to the point of oblivion.

Leather clad, muscled, merman purchased in my gay abandon forties. Discovered, I was part of the watery feelings clan with body issues; lacking self discipline to change. Hopes and dreams are mostly possible.

Rainbow bauble, bought this year. A fully formed fairy, not far off sixty; should have, could have, would have. Accepting my authentic self and life’s reality.

Happy holiday, warmest {{{HUGS}}, and a joyous 2022.

8 thoughts on “Bauble reflections

  1. THANKS FOR SHARING YOUR JOURNEY. Whatever gender or different combinations of genders we are, we are all on a journey toward authenticity. Though obviously lack of understanding by society can make some journeys harder than others. In mid-life I did an inner Jungian journey with a Spiritual Director. When working with a series of dreams, a quite stunted square jawed little person kept appearing who made up for her shortcomings by using sarcasm to “cut others down to her size.” I considered myself a very kind person, so I resisted accepting this “little person” as part of me.
    After a particularly disturbing session with my Director, I went to visit my mother who was now mostly comatose in a nursing home after years of Alzheimer’s. She had gotten a new roommate a couple of weeks before who seemed comatose also, never responding to me or the nurses when I was there. I sat holding my mother’s hand in the quiet room telling God (only mentally) that I didn’t really think I was like that “little person” who recurred in my dreams. Just then the roommate raised up on her elbow looking straight at me and said in a clear voice, “You aren’t who you thought you were, are you?” She then lay back down and as far as I know never spoke again in the rest of the several weeks that she lived.
    So much for denial!!
    I finally accepted that my lack of practical skills tended to make me feel inadequate and take it out on those people who fit much more comfortably into the 1950’s women’s role than I did. I was able to affirm their talents and also mine and not only stopped “Cutting them down to size,” but found humor in my what I call my Mrs. Magoo experiences.
    So glad you found the freedom to be a rainbow, rather than live in the dark.
    Your “rain-bow-ness” has been a light for me.

      • It was spooky, but kind of consoling at 84 to know that the Spirit can use us even on our deathbeds!! I solved the problem of feeling inadequate and responding with sarcasm by just deciding part of my role in life is comic relief. I’ve gotten quite a few funny experiences I’ve written about old age during Covid published in Small Town newspapers. No money, but trying to put together a small gift book of humor titled “LOL’s for Little Old Ladies.” It’s been fun writing them and I’ve gotten some good feedback.

  2. I am truly grateful for my Mother supporting me through college and did my best share what I had learned with her. It provided a sound foundation for building many career paths. My first job out of college was in a shoe shop specialising in fine Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, and British footwear. I became a tiny bit obsessed with buying shoes and clothes. I dreamed of living in a grand period home with luxurious furnishings and finishes. I bought and collected antique furniture and ceramics. All of the above I could not afford. I had fun’s times with family and friends in a fanciful world. I now question the naivety of my choices. Upon reflection, living in a cold grey country made me want to fill my home with warmth and Victorian clutter.

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