It’s no secret that I’m a bit of a picky B. I would rather have a few very close friends than a flock of people I only sort of know. With a few exceptions I find that most of my good friends tend to have boy parts. I really don’t know how that works out but it’s been the case since I can remember.
Skipping ahead a bit. Went to the Psychologist yesterday (the same one that wants to see me twice a month because I’m “fragile”) and he basically told me that I’m emotionally clogged. Um, ok. After some explaining I understand that apparently I function on a more rational level when dealing with emotions and not the random roller coaster of fun most women experience. I’m only going to say this once… I don’t believe he knows me at all after this bit. I’ve been seeing him well over a year and he thinks I keep stuff bottled up? Really? I have no filter. Everything that goes through my brain is regurgitated by my mouth. Does that not apply to my feelings? Apparently not.
After talking to some of my good friends I have to say that maybe the good doctor’s got a point. So here’s where I get to explain something that I’m going to attempt. Call it a warning of sorts. I’m going to try to actually express and embrace the emotions that I have. I rely entirely too much on thinking things through and trying to rationalize these kinds of things.
So if you see me with a tear or two please understand. I’m an open book. Ask me if you want to know. I’ll tell you. But make sure you really do want to know. And to my friends with boy parts, please remember that a woman won’t drown in a couple of tears and making her laugh usually just pisses her off (ok maybe that’s just me). A hug goes a long way.
I really really like hugs. From just about anyone that means anything to me a hug can be just the thing. From my mom it is an outward expression of how much I mean to her and that we really do have a great relationship. From my sister it means that we’re done with the stupid she’s-on-my-side-of-the-back-seat fights and have finally become the friends my mother always threatened we would become. From my urban family it can express that they really do embody the word family. But it’s the hugs that I share with my husband that I treasure the most. I’m considerably smaller than he is so a hug in his arms is all encompassing. I feel safe and warm. It is the most reassuring thing for me. If I’ve had a bad day a hug is an instant fix. It it a wordless way to reconnect with someone. And one that I really love.
