I wish I could be that girl that swoops into the office, carefree, blowing invisible kisses in return for her birthday wishes. Who giggles coyly and goes out for drinks after work, getting tipsie, never roaring drunk. Who skips down the passage spreading rainbows and glitter moonbeans from her arse, and everyone loves her for it.
I’m not that girl. I’m that girl who lacks dress sense and common sense. The girl that is melancholy and moody on her birthday. That girl who’s comfort eating has restricted the selection of her wardrobe. That girl that doesn’t want her aging acknowledged because she has achieved nothing in her tired, insipid life.
HELLO, MY NAME IS PIECES, AND I AM A PEOPLE-PLEASER
I have spent 43 years contorting myself, denying myself, damaging myself all in an effort to please others. And the more I succeed in pleasing them, the greater their demands become. What a curse of life, for there is no life to be lived in trying to please people. It becomes a deadly cycle that brings about the death of me, the self, the individual.
I don’t exist. In pleasing others you deny yourself. You live out other’s expectations, desires, dreams and ambitions. You live a life that doesn’t belong to you. You are expected to bend and bow at their demands. You forfeit the right to your own identity, your own voice. You don’t have your own dreams or ambitions because after a lifetime of pleasing people, you don’t exist.
No matter what great self-destruction you bring about yourself in exchange for someone else’s validation, her approval, his permission; to submit or conform or comply……. to be loved…. it is never enough, never quite achieved. And if it is, the personal cost to yourself is far greater than the rewards of pleasing these people.
So for godsake, my birthday wish is simple…………… cue Diana Ross aaaaaaand……
STOP! In the name of (self) love , before you break (your) heart……Think it o-o-verrrrrrr…….
GO ON! DO THE ACTIONS. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!