All my life I've struggled with who I am.

As a small child, I was cute and (I think) a little precocious. Then I started to grow, and I lost that baby cuteness, developed severe astigmatism, my teeth turned sideways, and I became exposed to the torments of children on the playground. I learned how to be pissed off. I learned how to silently seethe; I was raised to think that violence was wrong...but how much better would I have felt as a child if I'd just once been able to wallop someone.

My mother told me once (I'd have been about nine) that I was a pretty child. I told her she only thought that way because she was my mother, because everyone else thought I was ugly. The neighbor's kid threw my homework in the creek, and laughed at me and called me four eyes.

I'm not whining, really. Who the hell remembers how the felt at eight, nine, ten?

Somewhere along the way I realized that there were some people who were smart, some people who were really smart, and a whole bunch of people who were dumb. I fell into the smart category - I could have fallen into the really smart category, but I was lazy. So that's who I became - the smart girl. Occasionally, I'd meet people who were really smart, and they would blow my mind. One went on to become my best friend. The smart girl with bad hair, bad skin, bad clothes, braces, acne and pink glasses glued together at the corner. I certainly wasn't girly; I had a Barbie but she was thrown over for Lego's. I didn't do ribbons in my hair, and never wore anything floral. I didn't squeal and run away when that stupid kid that lived behind us in Simpsonville threw a bucket of bait worms at me. They were just worms, after all. And I was smarter than that piece of trash anyway, and brains always triumph over brawn. I was raised to be strong, and to be independent, and so I became.

So I'm not girly now, and unfortunately that seems to mean that I lack some kind of emotional capacity. Oh, I'm capable of suffering great hurt, pain, of having my self esteem knocked about like anyone else. But somehow, I don't feel very feminine. I get over it. I have a higher tolerance for life's bullshit (unless it's my job) than a lot of people. I really don't sit around (even though you might think otherwise if you read these page) moaning "o woe is me".

You think you reach a point of equilibrium in adulthood, where such things cease to matter. Where you aren't the ugly kid on the playground with glasses. Where it isn't all a popularity contest. Where it isn't about where you came from, or who your family was or wasn't. Or how much money you had. All my life experiences have just left me feeling more and more adrift, like I don't belong anywhere. Yeah, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished in my life with little or no help from anyone. If I suffer in comparison, I can truly say that I built what I had on my own. I didn’t go to school (remedying that now). My parents didn’t help me once I sprouted wings (once in a while, though, thanks mom, dad and grandmom). My job, my house (as much as I hate it…:-)), my car….I earned those things. I must be doing something right.

I'll let you know if I get there.

You know what I learned about myself when I was married? Because I feel I have this deficiency, I'm willing to put up with a lot of bullshit. Worse, I turn it on myself, that I brought this on myself because I lack something that a man looks for in a partner. In turn, this led to really allowing things to happen that no self respecting person would have stood for. Don’t get me wrong, I beat myself up over it enough. A lot of people hate my ex husband…except me: I hate myself for making such a bad decision. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. All because I stood there and let him do what he wanted to make himself happy, at the expense of my own happiness. Is that inherent in women – that we want to make people happy, and so will stay “for the children” or “because we don’t want to split up”?

How sucky is that?

I've turned into Emo Eyore!!!!!! LOL!

Seriously, I was just doing some thinking based on a comment passed this weekend. You know, I’ll never be pretty. There will always be someone smarter, someone sexier, someone better. The only thing I can do is strive to be the best person I can be.