Golden Bear (eithne_star) wrote,
Golden Bear

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Do you ever wonder what people say about you behind your back? What they really think of you? One of my biggest fears--probably the biggest--is that I am merely tolerated. Everyone has that person in their life--you know the one--that you greet when you see them, and converse with, and invite them to get-togethers but pray that you won't see them? The one who, when you're discussing them, you always seem to say, "Well, _______ is a really good person, but..followed by something not-quite-complementary? Sometimes I think I am that person.

And I don't want to be. When people talk about me, I want them to say things like:  "She inspired me;" "she helped me;" "she was nice/kind/compassionate;" "she listened to me;" "she made me think;" and perhaps most of all, "I like her."

It's a stupid fear, I know. And I know, I know, there are people out there who would do just about anything for me, just because they love me. But there's still that nagging, persistent voice in my head (that I wish I could corner and just SQUASH) that persists on telling me that it's true; people really are relieved when I leave, that they are saying things like: "Can you believe she said that!? How conceited." Stupid STUPID voice. And yet....


I'm more afraid of getting old than I am of death. Isn't that stupid? Shouldn't death be feared above all else, being the complete cessation of life? Now, the dying part, that still gets to me; I'm not a big fan of agony or sickness, so, really, there's not any really good way to go. But death? Nope. It's going to happen eventually anyway, so why stress about it?

But getting old? Watching wrinkles appear on my face? Seeing my body sag and drop in all the wrong places? Losing my memory? That scares me. And the part that horrifies me the most? No longer being considered desirable.

There, I've said it. Yes, that is EXACTLY how shallow and conceited I can be. I want to be desired, and the idea that someday--soon--I might not be terrifies me beyond all reason. That is a loss of such power that I am not even willing to contemplate.

Granted, one might say that in a career where jobs are 90% based on how you look, it's not an unreasonable worry. But it's more than that. It almost....a compulsion, an obsession. There is a part of me that craves sexual attention, and the thought that eventually I'll be passed over for someone younger and fitter than I am makes me howl with rage. (Wow, I totally just had an insight into the Snow Queen's motivation.) It's unhealthy, I know. Little crazy, even. Scary, definitely. 

And I do try to take care of myself; after all, I do portray a 12-year old on a weekly basis. I use creams, and lotions, and toners, and I exercise and watch what I eat. But there is such a thing as going to far, and for me to even contemplate doing something drastic just to be prettier or thinner or whatever is dangerously close to that line. Most of me laughs at just how ridiculous I am, but there is that other tiny little bit that is sooo tempted.....

These are my fears. They aren't prompted by any overwhelming feelings at the moment, just a desire to write them down, air them out, and hopefully, eventually, laugh at.


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