Own your narrative

I watched a great series on “Netflix” a few weeks/months back called “sex education” – the naughty scenes were hard to watch so I mostly covered the phone with my hand (I watch Netflix a lot on my phone) until they were over; but the parts where people were there for their friends and where the main character counsels his peers, they were so lovely that they seemed worth the naughtiness.

In one episode, the young ‘councilor’ says to his peer:

“Own your narrative”

Which really resounded with me.

What it means to me – is that you make yourself responsible for – and you fully accept – the person you are in your life. Your narrative is your story – no one else can be you – but you.

So owning it – means accepting it. Maybe even getting to the point where you embrace and actually quite LIKE being yourself.

Photo by Brigitte Tohm

I find this so hard!!!

Because I always hope to be someone else.

Someone better. I always hope to be thinner (OMG DO I WANT THAT!!!), funnier, smarter, sweeter, wiser, stronger and just generally awesome.

So ‘owing my narrative’ is a really hard hill to climb because when I look at who I am – who I actually am – it’s not very impressive.

I don’t like who I am.

I’m scared a lot. I hate confrontation because I worry more for the person who did me wrong than I do for myself so I end up letting really bad people walk all over me (poo all over me in some cases) rather than drawing my line in the sand and saying “no more”.

I eat to comfort myself. I eat to celebrate a great day and I eat to console myself on a bad one. And there have been so many bad days of late. So I’m eating a lot. And it’s always junk food. It’s always something fatty and/or fried. So I’m very, very overweight and that makes me very sad indeed.

I embellish. I can’t seem to help it. I guess somewhere inside of me is a young girl who just wants  you to be impressed to instead of just saying the plain story – just A to B and ending it, I want to tell you so much more. I want you to know how the sun felt on my skin, how the donut tasted, how my heart banged against my chest so hard and so fast I honestly thought it would burst out. I want to ‘fill’ the story so that you will be satisfied when you hear it…and that sometimes makes me an untruthful person. I don’t feel great about that.

This blog – this is the one place you’ll get ABSOLUTE TRUTH from me – yeah, it will take you a long time as my posts go on forever (yes Marc and Sue, I hear you)…but I will always tell the truth on this because I see it as my heart on paper and if I lie – even once – on this – then I’m ripping apart my own heart. My own integrity, honesty and forthrightness (is that a word?) and I don’t want to do that with something so precious.

I bloody love this blog.

Owning my narrative means accepting my faults – as many as they are.

I’m fickle. I don’t like to stick with one steady thing if something more shiny is out there. This does Alun’s head in.

I’m impulsive. I would put ALL THE MONEY I OWN RIGHT FREAKING NOW to bet on black at the Casino – and I wouldn’t think twice about the carnage and the way it would ruin not only my life but Alun’s if I lost. Nope. Instead, I would already be imagining myself doling out gifts to everyone I love. Sending Marc a first class ticket from Heathrow to Perth 🙂 asking him to pick up Becci on the way so I can see her lovely face again. In my mind, I’m already paying off my Mom and Dad’s house so they don’t have to worry about mortgage. I’m doing the same for Alun and I’m booking and paying for tickets, accommodation, food and tickets for Alun and all his best friends from Wales to go to every Welsh game in this year’s Rugby world cup.

Because that’s who I am. I’m thinking already of winning – WITHOUT DOING ANY ACTUAL WORK.

That’s my downfall. I won’t carefully save money so I can buy Marc a ticket – in economy – to come and visit Alun and I. I will just spend a fortune on lottery tickets and be grinning away on the train ride home with the tickets folded in my pocket, imagining how much fun it would be to see my friend again.

I’m not thinking of what happens when I lose.

Of the moment when the ball lands on red and I have to go home and tell Alun I bet our home on it, and now we don’t have a home.

(So I avoid the Casino at all costs).

I’m bitter. I’m resentful. I’m angry, easily enraged and will hold a grudge. I’m slow to forgive. I will forgive you (that is the Grace of God – otherwise I would just shoot you in the face), but I will hang onto the moment you hurt me forever.

I’m fat.

I’m depressed.

I’m up right now typing away to you because I can’t sleep – because I’m scared and anxious about going in to work tomorrow to face “the girls” when really, it’s no big deal. They don’t own me. They won’t physically hurt me. They will gossip, lie, cheat and laugh at me – sure…but I shouldn’t care about that and that shouldn’t affect me – and yet I’m anxious about it – so I’m up late blogging about it to you.

It’s not a great narrative right now.

The only hopeful things I can see about this are:

Narratives can be changed by the very person they are about 🙂

I’m the writer of my life story. God gave me the pen. In the rare times I give it back to Him – oh the masterpieces He draws on the pages of my soul!

But, it is never for long because I’m always greedy and hungry to hold that pen again.

…And doodle swear words on the corners of my book of life. Lol.

I’m losing my train of thought.

Oh yeah – the hopeful things.

I can change my narrative.

Now that I’m not suicidal anymore, I can get my ass back to the gym and I can change my narrative of being fat and embarrassed to being healthy, thin, strong and beautiful.

I can change my narrative of hating where I work to focusing on the blessings of my job (it pays a sh*tload, you don’t even know!) and on the people there who are actually people of substance and integrity. I might even take Marc up on his suggestion and just sweep the roads instead. I will earn A LOT less but oh my word, I’d be so much happier with a straight-forward job and so much less responsibility.

The point is, though:

I can write myself a new story.

And I can start tomorrow 🙂

That’s a bit exciting, eh?

Published by janetdthomas77

I'm the person who will go into a burning building to save everyone. I'm also the person likely to have started the fire by leaving a stupid scented candle unattended or something, so...you know.

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