The way that others see you

I always find it strange. You know, the way that someone else looks at me. The way that they understand me. The way that they “see” me.

My cousin and I were born 4 months apart. I have known her all my life. We weren’t close growing up, but since my move back to Cape Town she has become my best friend. We happened to spend an hour in the car together over the weekend. Just me and her. Driving.

And the things she was saying, about how she sees me… well, they were pretty awesome.  You know, the way that I see it, my life happened – when I was a youngster, and my folks got divorced, there wasn’t really anything I could do to make things “better”. That’s how things were. I accepted them, made the most of it and moved on.

She sees me as this person who has had a shit life, and as someone who has come through the otherside, not just surviving, but as someone who should be (and is) proud of everything achieved. She was saying to me that I could have, and possibly should have, been someone on drugs etc, etc. My mom lives in another town, another country, my father does not support me in any way… and yet, yet I still am doing well in my job, studying hard and moving forward, striving to be the best that I can be.

She seemed, not awed, but impressed that I had not gone the “wrong” way. I said to her, well, I had many choices to make when I was younger, and I made them. I am not the type to sit and regret the things I have or haven’t done – this is the way that things are, and I am moving towards where I want to be.

I guess the thing that has always been there for me…. is that I don’t want to turn out like my father. That has been my driving force since I started working.  I want to have money for a rainy day. I want to be able to feed my all of my children on a regular basis. I want to be there for my children as they grow up. Spoil them with love… not money.

I also have quite a strict boss you know… I’m pretty hard on myself, and I don’t like failure… my other problem is that I am also scared of success. I watched Akeelah and the Bee yesterday… such a heart warming movie… there’s a quote in there, I can’t remember who wrote it – but it goes along the lines of: “We are not afraid of failure, but rather of success. Who are you to be gorgeous, clever, etc… actually who are you not to be?” I need to find that damn thing. Its going to be my mantra for the next few months I’ve decided.

Anyway, back to the point. My cousin sees me as someone who escaped, resisted or ignored all the “easy” doors and is proud of where and who I am. She sees me as someone who could have gone completely down hill, and yet, here I stand, I’m not on drugs, I did not accidentally fall pregnant… I made it through almost unscathed – I am “balanced”. What she doesn’t understand is that I never gave myself the option. I didn’t want to be dependant on anyone or anything. I needed to make it for myself. I needed to be able to count on someone. And that someone was me. I was the only constant in my life. Throughout my youth, yes, my brother was there, but then he left, I moved around, he moved around – we were always in each others life, but we both learned, the hard way, that all we could count on was ourselves.

That I think is the reason I am the way I am. Even now, being with the most amazing man. There may be times when he doesn’t want to follow, lead or walk besides me and I will have to do things alone. I expect and accept this. Because that is who I am.

The nice thing though? Mostly I will never have to walk alone again. I have my family with me now. My friends. They will hold my hands… yes, both of them… But should the need ever arise. I know that I am able to walk alone along my path… and I also know that I am now able to ask. a lesson hard to learn. but magical nontheless.