Acceptance

So, after my melodramatic post the other day I've realized that it may not have been the best way to reveal something although it was honest and in the moment of how I felt. I don't regret it right now, it would suck if I did, just have to deal with the aftermath.

This post somewhat ties in with it. I was journaling today and although I won't say what exactly I wrote, I though I'd share some thoughts just for the sake of sharing them. The reason I felt this strong desire to "come out of the broom closet" as a pagan witch, was my friends. This last year I've met a group of people who have (so far) completely accepted me without judgement or half-lies where I hid part of me to prevent judgement. People that like the same shows I do, who will gladly go what a fantasy movie with me and have curiosities similar to mine.

I can't stress how important that was for me. I'd never really had a close friend (or family member) who liked the same stuff I did, I just got used to feeling like the weird, eccentric one that people joked about and gave surprised "oh, really"s. It's nice to have them still spend time with me and value me even though they don't really understand, but to have someone who will gladly be eccentric with you and have the same excitement you do is completely different.

Insert warning about teenagers (although I am no longer one) abandoning their families to be a part of a friend group who will later ditch or use them here.

Yeah, I understand that, but it's so nice not to feel like the weird one! I have not changed one aspect of myself to fit into this group; I did not become pagan to fit in, I did not start dressing differently or watching different shows, etc. I was lead here out of my own curiosity and longing, and yes maybe my interaction with this group let some curiosity flourish, but it was always underneath the surface anyway. I was just afraid of revealing it before, of being made out as more weird than acceptable.

I would gladly buy my childhood friends a bible, a cross or talk with them about how they feel their relationship with God is going (provided they do not attempt to tell me I'm going to hell or try and convert me), and I will let them pray to God for me. Yet, I feel as if they would never ever do that for me. Ever. And if I ever said I'd pray for them, they would tell me to stop (btw, my faith doesn't believe that doing something against someone's will so it would be wrong to pray for them no matter how good my intentions are).

I want to feel the same kind of acceptance I feel when my parents send me links to tiny houses, where they are participating in my life without criticizing or trying to change it. They don't have to like the idea of tiny houses, but the recognize that I do and send what they come across my way or try to help me further my ideas. I cannot tell you how happy and safe I feel emotionally when they just send me a simple picture.

I don't expect that to happen right away. Knowing my family they will have a lot of questions, which is fair because I had a lot for them. My immediate family I have no doubt will at least tolerate me, with the occasional "that's complete bullshit, why would you believe in that" and so on. I expect it and know that they'll learn to get along eventually :)

A New Journal and Self-Identification

The other day I did end up picking up a journal and have decided to attempt to write in it. The nice things about a journal is that I know no one will read it for awhile and I can feel free to write about anything I want without fear of offending or having someone feel disappointed in me or my thoughts.

The downside is that I'm not sharing with I think with anyone else, so I don't get feedback on my thoughts. Unlike writing a blog, where I can pretend that someone is reading and understanding it right now, whereas no one might ever read my journal or realize how brilliant I really am. I'm not even joking about that last part, the egotist in me thinks that I am the most amazing thing on planet earth and people should be in awe of me. It's a weird situation because I'm part egotist and at the same time tend to dish out a lot of self-hate. I'm not sure how to feel about this. 

Anyway, the reason for this post, besides informing you that I may or may not continue to post on this blog, is confess a few current secrets that might offend my family. Why, who knows. I might be crazy. So let's begin. If I wind up disowned, this will be the moment. If not, then I guess they like me enough to keep around for awhile. 

I don't feel like my name fits me. I don't know what it is about it that makes it feel like it doesn't fit, but it just doesn't. Some of my nicknames feel ok (Leeshka and Leeshbet, I have no idea how they would be spelt), but my name (all three included) just feels odd. Don't ask me what would feel better, I don't really know. 

The feeling got worse after I started to work and everyone called me something similar but never my own name. I don't feel a connection to those wrong names either. Even telling people my name doesn't feel right. It could just be that it's how I'm feeling now, I don't know. 

I've thought about changing it, even though I don't have the names picked out yet, but am not sure how my family would take it. Probably not well. I'd probably be mocked for it and be gossiped about in private while slowly becoming that family member. 

Of course, I'm well on my way to becoming it, the stupid liberal hippie. Hell, even my dad thinks I'm going to turn into one. He's said it enough when talking about the philosophy course I'm taking in the winter. Then comes the confusion of is it wrong to be myself or at least how I perceive myself? Or should try to fit in or constantly care about not offending someone? 

SO CONFUSED!!! This is what happens when I have a restless night! 

Also, I'm a pagan witch. Tah-dah!