Another Secret Revealed...bullies stripped of there title.

There is a saying that goes...in youth we learn with age with understand, a quote that rings so true as I age. A sadden thought at times of what's to come as my numbers climb. (for more of this topic read my add on post below) and one other that I carry everyday, "What does not kill you makes your stronger." I've learned this one the hard way and rightly so was a personal journey for me. We all have to make mistakes even as children we must or we do not learn our strengths, our limits, our ability to accomplish and survive. It builds are character, keeps us humble for without all those mistakes we would not be the person, we would not discover who we are meant to be.

 

When I was featured in our local paper in the early 90's I was young, newly divorced, thought I knew so much more than I actually did...so much to the point I did not acknowledge what was really happening when the photographer and reporter sat in my apartment. I could not comprehend as I do now just what this all meant. To me it was nerves, fear, glory, and a bam! at those who viewed me more as a physical threat or a sexual conquest, a trophy, less than a person with feelings. I was thought to be rich, too good looking to approach, to hot not to approach and was meant for merely one thing. At 18 I was tagged and given the name Foxy Lady in my community. It was my first real battle in life, this eight little word...that meant nothing to me. I did not see myself as others did...

 

In high school I did not date much at all my morals and values stood out...that helped more than I would or could have possibly known. But the title given never really left "Foxy Lady" it haunted me most of my life. I did not want to be a tag, I wanted to be human seen as a person with feelings, to be loved as a person not as a figure, trophy or name. At the time I had no idea what all this would mean, in my older years. I can only tell you this....my first experience of being devastated by a male was my junior year. I became the blunt of a joke football season that year, all because I didn't date and had values that said, I will not be your sexual object. That year in pursuit of destroying those morals, a girl I knew Shelley, was dating a football player on our football team. One day my locker started to contain images of Dan Windau ( the football player) rumor was they had broken up and his interest was directed towards me. Talking to me, hanging around me, walking me to classes, and Shelley acting as though she was anger for all that was occurring. This went on for a month of my life until....a cool Friday night.

 

Our school was playing Fremont Ross a true rival at the time, game no one would miss. Prior to that night Dan ask me to attend with him, ride along and be his date, so I accepted. I was excited stunned that someone like him would want to date me, a football player and me. After the game, which we won...on the way home we seemed to be heading in a different direction. So indeed I ask, were are we going. He replied, I have a surprise for you. Miles down the road we went upon a Motel lite up and open, in the car went and Dan ready with a room key. I sat there for a few minutes, stunned in my mind thinking...oh no, not this girl. So I told him, no way, I was a girl of morals, a girl of wanting to be loved first before anything else would take place. I stood my ground but not without repercussions...all the way home he yelled at me, called me names, and drove fast. Arriving at my house...he did not stop the car, only slowed down to open the door and push me out. I sat there in the cool damp grass, tears flowing and trying to process it all. I went inside hung up my coat as I started to walk up the stairs, my dad came from around the corner...he said, did you have a good time. My head hanging I muttered, yeah dad it was a nice game, we won...and off to bed I went. The next day was filled with Shelley laughing, Dan and his friends laughing and me dropping out of school. Yes, you heard it right dropping out of school. Embarrassed, ashamed, I shriveled up, gave in...and dropped out. Sad for me, yes I was at the time, damaged goods, and now an introvert more than ever.

 

I maintained a fake id, which was easy in the 70's and became an 18 year old just that easy. Working at fast food places...which there weren't a ton back then, and an occasionl dairy queen. But it was with aging as I reflected back, began processing with a more mature mind. I realized something incredibly important that came many years after that reporters interview, and my exposure in the newspaper the same year. No one could touch what I had accomplished, sure they could offer there opinion, but no one could touch what I had done on my own, with my hands. And that said a lot to me, about me, that no one could ever change. I was unique, I belonged to myself and at the end of the day what I did matter only to me. This was the very first light bulb moment that I experienced a pesonal growth one that said...you can say what you want about me, but you can't touch me, the person, me the human sharing the same planet in this life. No one needs one specific talent to come to this in there life as we all have them...even if only small they are there within you, used everyday. You just have to take notice it's there...if your write a letter your talented, if you care for a pet you're talented, if you swim, watch birds, play ball, ride a bike, cook for yourself everyday...you are talented. Even if you draw a stick figure you are talented. Yes, you are!!! Because it comes from within you and no ones does it just like you!! I am not rich in money I am rich in life...within me and that for me is priceless. I AM HAPPY...I am stronger, I am a survivor!

Update...all the white areas in the paper article are for my own personal safety.

 

 

Now I share this....poem by an aging man in a nursing home found after his death.

And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, will be there, too!

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The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart! — with Angela Cabral.