Loving yourself in pieces

Self-love is a tall order - a skyscraper to climb over, without ropes - when you're used to beating yourself up on behalf of other people. You know, to save yourself the effort of feeling the shock and bruise of it, the next time it starts. When a fight with yourself leaves you lying bloodied on the ground.

So the answer isn't a must, a giant should, an impossible goal. Start small. Start somewhere.  Start with the marvel of your hands gripping a door handle. With the way your lungs keep fluttering without your thought to guide them. Start with your strong legs that carry you everywhere, even when you're tired and angry and aching.

Start with the pieces of you that someone has loved before (but maybe you didn't really believe them). Look in a mirror and find one thing beautiful. What did they tell you about your eyes? Maybe the way your neck curves into your shoulder, the way your hair falls over your ears. Has someone loved the sound of your voice? The way you put words together carefully before they come out of your mouth? Start with what they told you your smile did to them.

Start with the things you think you're not supposed to love. Start with the way you insist on loving someone that you've been told you should give up on. With your resistance and stubbornness. Start with your obsessions. The way you have to straighten up the cutlery on a table, just so. And the way you keep your anger to yourself, because you don't want to burn anyone else with it. Start with your clumsiness, your sensitivity, your hurry, your yearning.

You are loved and lovable just as you are. You don't have to believe it. You don't even have to feel it, in your bones or your belly. But it's true, you are lovable. I promise.

The weird and the wordy

When I was having one of those getting-to-know-you conversations a few months ago, I mistakenly included - in the list of things I'm into and spend my free time on - the phrase "I write poetry". To which my conversational companion at the time replied "Poetry. That's weird." Heavy emphasis on *weird*.

I hastily added something about how I know poetry isn't for everyone and that's why I think it needs to be accessible and people tell me my poetry is fairly accessible blah blah blah like a defensive poet in a socially awkward situation (oh wait, that's not a simile).

My feelings closely resembled those of a person who has been unexpectedly slapped across the mouth. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. (Probably doubly so because this was a person of the male variety whom I already held in some esteem and felt attracted to. How typical.) I resolved anew to stop telling new people about my secret strange life as a poet.

I've always known poetry is not a typical occupation of time or a mainstream form of self expression. Hell, go to any poetry event and you'll hear wryly self-deprecating comments about the kind of people who go to poetry events. But I don't think I've ever had it pointed out to me so plainly that poetry is weird and apparently reserved for the weird.

Today I met a poet friend for lunch. We swapped poems and talked about poetry and the writing of it and it was all wonderfully word-nerdy. Then we went to a poetry reading and listened to more poets talk about poetry and share snippets of their innards with us. I looked around the room and observed the motley collection of humans that had assembled to share in this thing called poetry. And I realised my metaphorically-face-slapping companion was right.

Poetry is weird, and the people that write it are weird, and the ones that like it are weird. They're often quiet and have odd mannerisms and wear closed shoes with no socks. Some are extroverted and quirky and juxtapose the crudest of swear words with reverent references to the many deities of the world and thankfulness for fucking.

These people understand the world in the same ways that I do and they are able to articulate it. They can reach into others and stir them in ways that some may never experience.

So here it is, my coming out:

Hi. I'm Nicole, and I'm a poet.

Personality in pictures #1

I was baking apple crumble the other day, and realised that I always try to peel the apples in one piece. I cultivated the skill in childhood, and now it's something I do without even thinking. But for someone who doesn't know me, it might be considered a 'quirk'. So I'm starting a list, because I'm proud of who I am, quirks and all.

And I'm not alone. Minerva likes to peel oranges in one piece too.

Aid for the introverted dater

As a introvert in an extroverted world, I often need reminders about why I am the way I am. When I'm feeling particularly overwhelmed and struggling with some variation of 'why can't I just...?' it helps to go back and read some of the materials I've gathered on introversion and personality types.

A couple of months ago I discovered (through judicious web surfing) Nancy R. Fenn, the Introvert Coach. If you are willing to overlook the lack of website 'shininess', you'll find a wealth of articles, stories, tips and guides purely for introverts.

A few weeks ago I purchased one of the ebooks, Dating for Introverts. For the bargain price of US$5.95, I got 84 pages of relief from wondering why I still struggle to make connections in a city that supposedly houses over 6 million people.

I sat at my computer in the loungeroom reading avidly, periodically jumping up to call over my (also introverted) housemates to excitedly point out another nugget of truth. One of the mantras that stuck with me was "It's not against YOU. It's for ME'" from the SLAP ME SILLY IF I DON’T CORRECT MY SELF-TALK CHART for Dramatic Long Term Effects in Increased and Appropriate Self Esteem and Success in Dating. (If that title alone doesn't convince you it's worth buying, well, let me say BUY IT!).

I haven't yet had to say that to anyone, but saying it to myself helps me feel "normal" when I choose to close the door to my office or opt out of an invitation to a social event that I just don't have the energy for.

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If you don't know what an introvert is (and you might not, since we make up well under half the general population), or you want to know what kind of introvert you are, take a look at these websites:
Keirsey Temperament Sorter
HumanMetrics