Missy is a unique writer who enjoys inviting her readers into her thoughts through her poetry and other topics of discussion.
Just One of Those Days
So it goes, another day to remind me of my dark side. The side of me that feels out of place in social situations. The part of me that feels judged by every single person who knows me and who thinks they know me. It was that kind of day. Hell, it’s been that kind of week. A week of having to explain away why I think the way I do and the continuing aggravation of defending my reasons behind who I am. And even worse, defending who my children are to others, because bless their hearts, they are part of me. We as three have had plenty of judgments thrown at us for whatever reason. I’m tired, hurt, and guilt-stricken now that I have realized my children are, at this moment in time, in this misery called my life.
My Children are Mirror Images of My Two Personalities
Today, I feel my light leaving and my dark side returning, and I realize I am made up of two quite different personalities. Sometimes I am the most caring person -- I admit I would like to think that most of the time I am this caring person. However, I am a potty mouth rebel woman at times. Who could blame me for the unfair life I have experienced, right?
I suffered through a lot of torments as a shy child and abuse from relationships as an adult, which has put me in hardships. It is no wonder that I am this other person at times. When I think about it, it makes sense that my two kids inherited the single versions of the two sides of me. My daughter is mostly low-key and humble and super smart in a very prestigious way. My son can be rude, uninhibited with his words and actions, but he is very smart in a cunning way. The truth is, and I am being very honest here, when my son uses some foul language to express himself, I almost do not even mind.
It is not my son’s fault that he is a rebel badass that is extremely uncontrollable occasionally. No, I am not condoning it, and especially his hateful ways at times, however, I do find that I understand his anger. Besides the fact that his gene pool consists of mine, he has been raised with only me -- his mother. It is rough for a boy to be raised by merely his mother. I feel for both of my children in this way. It is sad though, as I already feel guilty for being the only parent, I have now realized I have to feel responsible for passing on my most unfavorable trait to my little guy. All I can do is keep trying to sway him to be the best person he can be and hope it catches on soon.
I would like to say that he can be sweet as well. Right now, he is going through a rough stage. Even so, I know we will get through it. I just need to find a way to bury the anger in him. I did not express anger about these things he is experiencing until I got older. He, however, acts his out now. If I am lucky, maybe he is dealing with it in the best way. Perhaps, I should have expressed anger as a young girl and left it behind me as an adult. I could have just been the caring part of me all the time, rather than these two personalities I am now. I am still trying to figure out how to be human enough to satisfy everyone else’s opinion of how normal is supposed to be, and then some days I simply do not care what anyone thinks.
I am sorry, but I have learned to like these two vastly different sides to my personality. Nevertheless, I know it is difficult to get to the point of liking yourself when you realize you have become an outcast. However, I am going to hope for the best and keep supporting my son with the most love and care that I can.
My Final Thought
I think the important message that I wanted to convey in this hub was that it is awesome to be different. These days, I look at what is considered normal in society and it is easy to see just how special the outcasts are. They inevitably possess real wisdom to share with others, in which they have gained by becoming extremely observant. People like me and my son, who are shy and put down for being odd, gain this wonderful ability to observe our surroundings. It will usually help us love ourselves in the end because we just understand the truth that most will not admit, and that is -- everyone on earth has a bit of weird in them, but not all of us are courageous enough to show it and be ourselves. I hope I can make my son understand this and I hope he becomes proud of being unique. He is a prodigy of his mother after all, and baby...we were born this way!!
My Latest Poetic Inspirations
When I get down about life, and these days of confusion and sadness come upon me, I tend to listen to music. Sometimes the music inspires me, and I’m that side of me who is caring and loving, and you will read that in my poetry. Then there are times, like now, in which I am so exhausted from how life has been that I draw from the dark side of me. I listen to music, and artists whom I relate to uniquely.
Today, I listened to Jack White and Lady Gaga. These are two artists that I relate to on a level of artistic vision. They both write their music with emotions from their weird side. I was inspired to write this latest poem in the way I believe Jack and Gaga also write their songs -- with a confusing dark edge that only outcasts could truly understand. This one is for the misunderstood of society.
I Dedicate This Essay to Rick Genest "Zombie Boy" A Beautiful Outcast - RIP
Me Against The World
You don’t know me
and you never will.
I was born to be rotten,
Looks to kill…
sweet as sugar from
experience, but a heart
as black in deliverance.
Deep are my thoughts
you cannot see. I am
an unequivocal mystery.
Underestimated ever to
achieve a life which is
based off my pretty dreams.
I will not deny the hardships
I’ve seen; they carry me,
bury me, yet define me as me.
And even though this
is a hard fight, my will still
resists in allowing this world
to cast me outside.
My Hubs Are Different At Times. They Are Written Through Emotions of What I Go Through...
If You Like This Hub, Please Be My Guest and Read More of My Thoughts and Poetry.
- A Poet's Perception (Poem)
This is basically my own perception of how my life has gone and continues to carry on. It's also about being fine with the outcome, and accepting things as they are.
© 2016 Missy Smith