I have a jumble of thoughts in my head, all connected…somehow. So here goes, writing without a plan or clear thought process.

I saw the most amazing show last weekend. I saw Bastille at Union Hall and it was by far, one of the best live shows I have ever seen. And I have seen a lot of bands play. It was the energy the band demanded from the crowd. And the crowd delivered. It was like we each had a private conversation with the band for the entire show, while being surrounded by hundreds of people. When they played Flaws, Dan walked through the crowd. He. Walked. Through. The. Crowd. And since then, I have had this tune on repeat. Literally, repeating on my iPod in the car and at work. It’s now a part of me. And it has made me really think about my Flaws and what I do with them. Are they on my sleeve? Or do I bury them? I wear my grief on my sleeve when it comes to this blog. And that has caused concern and judgment. I wear my openness on my sleeve when it comes to certain things I post on social media. And that has caused concern and judgment.

Regarding my grief, I have only censored myself when writing, when I felt I needed to respect other people’s privacy, or it was moments that I cherished and I really wanted to keep them as something special that only me and my mom knew. But this openness, and seeing into my life in one aspect, was an easy way for friends and family to worry more about me than they needed to. Looking back, I really was struggling, but it was what I needed to do for me to get where I am today. And I received more feedback, thanking me for sharing so deeply, as it helped others with their journey through losing someone. So I felt that I was doing more good than bad with my honesty.

Regarding social media, I censor myself A LOT! The thoughts I have sometimes I surprise myself. Where some would be quick to post, I keep those ideas private. Or I only private message my closest friends who I know would understand me and leave judgement at the door. Because they are just as weird as I am. But I still do post things that others find ease in quickly labelling me. And I know this happens, and I don’t think about it much, because I know that the friends and family who really KNOW me, like see me in person and actually interact with me, don’t attach those labels to me. And that’s all that matters to me.

And then this happened. I was mistaken for a stripper. Read my dear friend’s post here explaining what happened. I laughed really hard about it, but again, didn’t give it much major thought. The labelling came through a friend of a friend that I didn’t even know. Not a concern to me.

But then I shared a pic of me from a photo shoot where I was wearing my pyjamas. It is tasteful and beautiful and the photographer is a true artist with her work. But the pj’s show off my butt a little bit. But sharing that caused another discussion amongst my friends about perception. (Nic – I adore you.) And I was quick to defend myself, but at the same time taking their views to heart. Which made me think of Flaws and being a stripper. Is this connecting for you? It’s connecting for me…all over the place.

When my mom was in the hospital, she said she needed me to share her story so others learned from her experience. I felt I did that, but then it morphed into me sharing my story, so others could learn from my grief. Now that I have made such great progress with letting go of her death, I am still wrapped up in feeling I need to share myself  – to provoke and expand and challenge. In other ways besides my grief.

I am a mom. And I am proud of my motherhood. But I also like to drink beer. And get dressed up and go out and have a fab time with my friends. I am a professional, overseeing projects worth millions of dollars with teams depending on me, as well as maintaining the safety of people, property and the environment. But I also pole dance. I am a daughter, sister, cousin and daughter-in-law with defined roles in each of those. But I also like to look good, because it makes me feel good. And sometimes looking good, means there being pictures of me in my underwear, taken by a gifted photographer, floating around out there.

But of course I am not labelled on my mothering, career or character. I am a partying pole dancer who is more risqué than she should be. This is where I would love to go on another tangent about society’s views on women – successful, good-looking, strong women, but this post is already all over the place. Instead I will try to wrap this all up.

Flaws. I feel I wear my flaws on my sleeve. That being my grief. That being a mom who still makes time to maintain my identity as an individual a priority which is easily judged. But are those really flaws? I wouldn’t think so. Maybe? I think they are things that make me me – and are just things that people have strong opinions on.

So where do I go from here? Do I censor myself more with social media? Do I completely retreat? Do I still fight the fight I feel I live daily, breaking the ideas of what a female engineer with a child should be? (Again, that needs an entire other post).

For now I think I’ll just take some to reflect on this. Decide what is important to me. And how those decisions can affect my family, personal life and professional life.

I’ll leave you with a quote from Carole Radziwell, NYC writer and featured on RHONYC. It seems very appropriate here, don’t you think?

“If you’re going to talk about me behind my back, at least check out my great ass.”

******************

Flaws – Bastille

When all of your flaws and all of my flaws
Are laid out one by one
A wonderful part of the mess that we made
We pick ourselves undone

All of your flaws and all of my flaws
They lie there hand in hand
Ones we’ve inherited, ones that we learned
They pass from man to man

There’s a hole in my soul
I can’t fill it I can’t fill it
There’s a hole in my soul
Can you fill it? Can you fill it?

You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground
Dig them up; let’s finish what we’ve started
Dig them up, so nothing’s left unturned

All of your flaws and all of my flaws,
When they have been exhumed
We’ll see that we need them to be who we are
Without them we’d be doomed

There’s a hole in my soul
I can’t fill it I can’t fill it
There’s a hole in my soul
Can you fill it? Can you fill it?

You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground
Dig them up; let’s finish what we’ve started
Dig them up, so nothing’s left unturned

Oooooh
Oooooh

When all of your flaws
And all of my flaws are counted
When all of your flaws
And all of my flaws are counted

You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground
Dig them up. Let’s finish what we’ve started
Dig them up. So nothing’s left unturned

Oooooh
Oooooh

All of your flaws and all of my flaws
Are laid out one by one
Look at the wonderful mess that we made
We pick ourselves undone

 

Advertisements