boxes

Tonight on Brothers and Sisters a woman who had lost a lot of her memory was trying to move on with her life and she ended up burning old boxes of memories she didn't really even have anymore. It's a TV show, so I take it with a grain of 'rah rah' salt, but the look of joy on her face with the first box went into the fire- and she was able to rid herself of the things that were weighing her down.

It made me wonder what would be in my boxes? Would I be able to throw them in the fire?

That box of body image issues I have been carrying around since I was 20? 19 years of body shaming and never feeling like I was sexy enough. 19 years of dieting, only to have the diet fail and me proclaim proudly that I like myself no matter what size- until I have a 'dress' to fit into. How many fucking diets did I go on, in order to fit into a dress. I'd like to burn all the dresses.

That box of "slut" that I keep just so I can take it out and prove that it's ok. Yes I like sex, shut the fuck up about it. I'm a PROUD slut god-damn-it and you can't shame me. I own that- I even have a box to prove it? And inside the box, a collection of lovers I never gave a damn about. Partners that I used to get love or to chase love away. Sex that I got to prove that I could. And sex that I traded to avoid punishment, or to manipulate. I'm proud of all that... aren't I? Fuck it, toss it into the fire.

The box of regret. Oh that's a heavy box. You know what's in there. Everything I didn't do. Don't even look. Just douse some lighterfluid on that bitch and in it goes.

The box of fear. Holy crap thats way in the back- give me second on that one.

The box of failure. The one that I have allowed to define me all these years. In that box is the simple idea that I will never be better than my greatest failure. That no matter what I do well, I will always be remembered for the the time, the thing, the situation that I fucked up. I will never be more than the day I disappointed my mother. I will never be smarter than then my worst grade. I will never have a job better than the one I got fired from. I am only as strong as my failures, and I have failed spectacularly, so don't get your hopes up kiddo. Yeah, torch that box. Lets put the contents thru the shredder and THEN light them on fire. Wow, that doesn't even seem like enough.

The box of relationships. The ones I have held on to. The ones that got away, the ones that left. The mementos, the letters, the pictures. The loves that I was so certain were the one for me. The man I wasn't good enough for. The one that no man will ever live up to, or maybe the love I won't allow myself to live down. The lid is worn on this box because I keep opening it, looking in to see if there is something I missed. I have the contents of this box memorized. I don't need the box anymore.

Ok fear, you bitch. In to the fucking fire you go. You are kindling for my soul and I just won't let you rent space in my mental closet if you aren't going to keep me safe. If I'm going to be afraid of something, its not going to be the same shit I've been afraid of since my 20's. No, I will find new fears and I certainly won't keep them in a box. No, those new 'fear' bitches are going to kiss my fucking boots and walk behind me. (or so I would like to think)

So once I get rid of all these boxes. All the things that are holding me back- what do I do?

Whatever the fuck I want, right?