Thursday, August 11, 2016

Breaking down, Breaking through

I've been reading  "Women who run with the wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes and last night I read the chapter about the Ugly Duckling and how it never really fit in anywhere and how this is the epitome of the Wild Women.

I was nodding so vigorously my head nearly fell off because that was me.

All through my child hood I felt like I didn't fit in.

When I was in my teens I was convinced that I must have been adopted even though I looked exactly like my brothers and sisters and was often mistaken as a twin of one of my sisters.

I just felt alien, other, different, wrong.

I also couldn't stand my name - or any variations of it. So I tried on different names and settled on my initials for a time.

I thought things would get better when I left home. They didn't.

My mother in law had distinct ideas of how and who I should be and try as I might I wasn't that
either.
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