i am not the best advocate of mother’s day.
my own mother–my most vivid memory of mother’s day is when the teacher in grade school had us grow marigolds to bring home and when i presented her with the marigolds i grew for her…she said, “ug. i hate the way they smell.”
and then when i became a mom, everyone would turn to dusty and say, “what are you getting her for mother’s day?”
and he would reply, “she’s not my mother.”
not that he got his own mother anything either.
that was one of my first glimpses that our marriage was not going to be a blissful & magical one.
now i have kids who want to do nice things for me on mother’s day, and i just feel uncomfortable. i feel like a fraud as a mom.
i just feel like a fraud.
especially on mother’s day.
maybe i will spend the day planting marigolds.
imposter syndrome triggered….
i just applied to be on a website that features women illustrators. it is for professional illustrators.
am i professional?
well…what am i if i am not professional? who am i then?
so many questions.
all i can do is write “i believe in me” over & over until i am convinced i am spelling it wrong.
(i believe in me)
i want you to love me
but let’s be honest
i’m probably just going to
instead of a handshake
i will cut to the chase
kick you in the ankle
& run away.
one thing i have succeeded at
one thing i am really good at
one thing i can do
i have completely internalized
that i am unlovable
check mark that box!
my beautiful frankenstein monster’s complex
i have even named it
it is a part of me
i have let it become me
i have let it define me
wrapping its sticky kisses
“who needs ’em? it’s you & me against the world”
a battle i have already lost
because deep down
a fellow blogger…and dare i say–friend–wrote a nice review of me in an effort to help me override my setting of self-sabotage.
that put me in a tail spin of imposter syndrome & unlovablility & made both really happy–but also want to dig a hole & hide away…so i got to examine those reactions and write journal pages about them.
see, you too can poke the demons! you just have to be nice to me and make me question those little whispering bastards.
so yesterday morning
i had a dream that is a reoccurring theme for me
the dream has me
trying to reconcile with dusty
to be with him again
so i spent yesterday
does my subconscious really really?
want me to reunite with dusty?
& i guess my subconscious was listening
because this morning
i had the same dream
but with a different ex
to be in love
happily ever after
now i know it’s not dusty
my subconscious is messaging me about
but i am still in the dark
is it as simple as my own desperation
to be loved?
to be happily ever after?
or does it go deeper….
i’m not getting art done. the minions are crazy, & i am crazier. i need to get art done. because, well, deadlines…and because it is something that keeps me sane….
but late summer is acting like fall and i have bees to get ready…goats to find a stud for…lambs & turkeys to butcher…winter gardens to plan…chicks being born and deserted by their fickle mama hens…
i did get around to signing up as a place for travelers to come & help out. i am on helpx and on wwoof. today a couple of girls contacted me about hanging out here in september.
did you know that not only can i feel like an imposter as an artist, but also can i do so as a homesteader?
i’m all like–is my homestead actually a homestead? are they going to be disappointed in my homestead? like take one look and go–you call this a homestead???
relationships, art, writing, motherhood, and homesteads…it’s all one experiment in rejection….
speaking of, a work of creative non-fiction i submitted to a magazine that was doing a theme that screamed of my story, rejected my story before the email submission had even cooled…and i cried…and then felt like an idiot for crying when there are people losing their homes to fire, flood, and fascism….
but it still hurt.
ps. if anyone is good at dream interpretation & wants to take a crack at my dream, please do so!