The truth is not always appreciated

There are many things I write about here, starting originally with the intention of promoting my jewelry, all the way through talking about depression, my journey of being a caretaker and my mother's passing, to my cats, my kids, and the occasional rant.  My writing is simple, the way I speak, and admittedly grammatically incorrect with poor sentence structure.  But very few people have ever accused me of not being able to get

my point across.

This is a strange point in my life, I feel somewhat unsteady on my feet, self-confident but not, in control but spiraling out of it.  And oh my gosh I hate to even say this because it sounds so ridiculous but I feel misunderstood.

For many years I have prided myself on admitting mistakes (of which there are many), taking responsibility, and have been a strong believer in being open.  In fact - sometimes I think - too open.  Applying for the job I have now it's one thing I repeated to several people - with me, what you see is what you get.  I don't play games, I say what I mean and I'm not one to say what I think people want to hear. That's not to say I just say anything - I recognize there is a time and a place for everything.

So .. what to do when it seems other influences would like me to change the very essence of myself?  Because I don't know how to be anything but real.  And grammatically correct or not, communication has always been one of my strengths.

You look in the mirror every day and you see yourself a certain way.  It's disorienting when others don't recognize that person - is you.  Or maybe they recognize that person - they just don't like who they see.

That is entirely possible.

Not sure there is a single thing I can do about that.

Remember when we used to answer the phone - even when we didn't know who it was?!??

Kitchen phone, but in white

I know, right?  I remember it well.  If we had had caller ID when I was in high school I never would have gotten my own phone (with my own number!!) in my bedroom if my mom could have looked at a display and been able to see it was for me. 

Remember running for the phone hoping it was for you, but even if it wasn't you still wanted to know who was calling?

Remember buying an extra long cord so you could pull the phone into a place of privacy and maybe even close a door?

Phone that was in my Mom's bedroom.

What about wanting to make a call and pacing because someone else was on the phone and not getting off any time soon?

Or finally getting to make your call and getting a busy single?  Or the very worst .. running to get the phone and just as you pick it up - they hang up?

THE phone in my bedroom.

No caller ID

No answering machine.

No voicemail.

The eternal mystery.

And I never even dreamed of having a phone to carry in my purse that worked without a cord that could take messages and show me who was calling and plenty more.  

Now - I don't answer my phone a lot and I generally don't run for it.  We are so connected these days I guess I'm just not in a hurry to find out who's calling anymore.