I’m nice. Nice to a point it’s debilitating, but still- it counts. In a world so jaded, angry, dishonest and cruel… I’m that smiling stranger. I’m that lady who offers to hold your crying baby so you can help your other child, that person who pays the difference when you run short and the first to volunteer for shitty jobs that nobody wants to do. I’m nice. I’ve hated this about myself for years and finally in the last couple have learned to embrace what makes me happy. I LIKE being nice. It doesn’t sit well with me when I’m unkind and I’d rather suffer the consequences of people taking advantage of my kindness than live life as an asshole.
I’m stubborn. Bullheaded is an understatement. I redefine what it means to be inflexible when I am determined. I hate this about myself a lot of the time, but truth be told, it saves me regularly. I refuse to give up, wouldn’t quit with a gun to my head and pursue what I want, intently. I don’t take no for an answer, I dig my heels in and pull out all the stops until that no changes to yes. There are downsides but for the most part, I’ve achieved some amazing things simply because I flat out refused not to.
I’m really thoughtful. I like to make the people who are special to me, feel those same feelings in return. I like to mentally catalog the favorite things of my loved ones and surprise them when it’s least expected and needed the most. I love you with my whole soul, no parts left out… even the ugly stuff that most people would turn their nose up at- those things are sometimes my favorite details because it makes me accept my own shortcomings a bit easier. I am inspired by love and the feelings resulting from it, and I go overboard at times in expressing it. I like that about myself. The world is full of sadness, I enjoy doing my part to make it better for the people that do the same for me.
I’m crafty AF. I can knit, sew, bake, grow, can, fix or paint anything I’m inspired to want to do. If I don’t know how, Google leads the way. I have collected hobbies for years and am definitely the mom to call when you’re in need of crafty help. I used crafting as therapy for years in a bad relationship, and learned how to knit some of my favorite treasures in the process. I fell in love with heirloom tomatoes and planted 350 plants…. hence the needing to learn to can. I’m a crafty version of that “If you give a mouse a muffin,” book. One craft leads to another and before you know it, I’m rewiring the garage and installing new tile in the bathroom while my cheesecake bakes. It’s a lot sometimes… and I wish I liked to clean up my messes as much as I like making them.
I’m funny. I can laugh at myself with the best of them and have learned to brush off the tears that fall as easily as laughter when the two collide. When the hot water heater dies, I can laugh about it now- where it used to decimate me. I can joke about my poor taste in men and perennially broken heart, because what good is life if you don’t use it all up? I took my female cat to the vet for an emergency last month and found out that she’s a he. How can life be anything but hilarious after that?