Isn’t this something we struggle with our whole lives? From the moment we begin interacting with others, we have to deal with their expectations. If we don’t meet those expectations, then watch out. Rejection. Bullying. Aversion. Topic of Gossip.
I wish that I could have embraced myself years ago. So much heartache could have been avoided. Did everyone like me when I was in school? No. Did I have at least one or two friends? Yes. Did my family like me? When I wasn’t being a sassy little brat, yes. Did they love me? Always. That’s really what counts.
Mary is in the third grade and 8-years-old. One of the biggest things I’ve been trying to get her to believe is that she is awesome. It doesn’t matter if that little boy called her an idiot or if they claimed something ridiculous about her so that she would be laughed at. She has a few friends who know her and love her for who she is.
She often hears me saying, “You are the only one who can allow you to be offended.” When you give that person the ability to hurt your feeling by simply using their words, you’re giving them too much power over you.
So be weird, if that’s who you are. The ones who love you will love you either despite of that fact, or because of it.
What happens when Mary’s bullies are forced to work with her to not embarrass themselves and their families?
Today, I am thankful for pi. Happy Pi Day! Here’s my pie. Cookies ‘n Cream.
Esoteric: Adjective: Intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.
Continuation of Ineffable and Abecedarian
When the fog clears, I’m still sitting on a soft, spongy substance that I would rather not try to identify, considering I just hatched from an egg, of all things. Like a newborn babe, my vision is blurred for anything further than my own hand. The light reflecting on the glittering shards of shell is blinding, so I blink several times before finally deciding to just close my eyes.
“Stunning,” a female voice says, surprising me.
When I burst out, I expected my kidnapper and the older male to be present, but I had yet to meet anyone else. I have no idea how long I was kept unconscious before somehow ending up in an egg, or how long I was in the egg when I got there. Something tells me the whole process is esoteric, and I will never know how everything came to be.
“She truly is. You made an excellent choice, Tristan,” another female says.
Tristan. That must be my kidnapper’s name. What is with everyone discussing his choice? Why did he choose me? And why didn’t I get a say in whether or not I wanted to do whatever it is they intend to do with me?
“Of course, because of her background, she’ll need to be trained,” an unknown male says.
“Yes. Etiquette, culture, history-” yet another female says, but is interrupted by Tristan.
“I know. I know. She’ll need to be trained in whichever element she has, as well.” There’s a pause, as if everyone is examining me. That’s when I realize I’m naked, so I quickly cover my private bits as much as I can. Everyone chuckles. “By her skin tone, I would say she’s either an earth or fire elemental.”
“Earth?” I’ve lost track of how many males and females are present at this point, but this is one of the females I’ve already heard. “Aren’t they usually green or some shade of brown?”
“You’ve still much to learn yourself, lovey,” a male voice says patronizingly. “Sometimes an earth elemental will take the shade of a blossom. The peachy tone of her skin could either be a shade of flame or petal. Time will only tell which she is.”
It’s starting to bother me that they’re all talking about me like I’m an object or not present. I’m becoming cold from the constant current of a breeze, which makes me think I could be outside. Even though I’m surrounded by people, I’m alone in whatever it is I’m going through. The mystery of what these people want with me is making me scared. The combination of feelings and climate cause me to shiver.
“Aw. The poor thing is cold. Tristan, give her the blanket,” one of the females says.
He’s had a blanket this whole time? Suddenly, a warm, soft blanket is draped over my shoulders. I grab for the edges and snuggle into it, not even caring how infantile it makes me appear. A hot sigh breathes against my hair as Tristan, I’m assuming, picks me up in his arms.
“Try opening your eyes again, sweetling,” he murmurs in my ear.
I shake my head.
“Come on,” he coos. “Let us all see those pretty eyes.”
I snuggle further into the blanket.
“We can see them properly later,” one of the ladies says. “She’s clearly uneasy with everything.”
“She needs to learn to accept her new life,” another woman says. “We all had to, at some point. It’s her turn. You’ve nothing to fear, girl. We’re all friends here, despite what you may think.”
“Just open your eyes and I’ll take you away from everyone, so you can have some time to recover and adjust,” Tristan says.
That sounds good. I’m sick of all these people. I would rather deal with the devil I know that the ones I don’t, even if I don’t know him well.
Everyone gasps when I open my eyes. While I still can’t see clearly, I can see a little better. What I see makes me lightheaded. The men all have what I would consider to me normal skin tones, but the women are every shade of the rainbow, glittering just as I am. Where am I?
To Be Continued…
Daylight Savings Time is ludicrous. Why do we lie to ourselves about the time for several months out of the year? If you like seeing the sun so much, change when you wake up or go to sleep, but don’t make me do it. /rant
Note: If you would like to save your own daylight, get this solar powered light jar. Then you can save as much daylight as you want.
Today, I am thankful for jelly beans. Yum.
Abecedarian: Adjective: 1. a. Of or relating to the alphabet b. Alphabetically arranged 2. Rudimentary
Continuation from Ineffable from a few weeks ago.
An incredible ache consumes me the moment I wake up. When I exhale a groan, my hot breath bounces off a wall a few inches away back into my face. Peach fog invades my vision upon opening my eyes. Being curled in a fetal position, my arms are curled into my chest. I attempt to reach out a hand, only for it to be stopped by a smooth surface not far from my body.
Am I in some kind of a box? If I am, I’m cushioned beneath me. It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic or this could be very traumatizing for me. Turning my throbbing head left and right, I note that I am surrounded by the colored clouds that shift and writhe with my every breath.
Familiar voices are outside my box, though I cannot determine how far away they are. They’re definitely the men I met before the older one made me lose consciousness. It’s a pity they’re kidnappers because they were possibly the most handsome men I have ever seen. Unearthly handsome. I’ve never seen eyes that color of dark blue, at least not naturally.
Transformation. They said something about me undergoing a transformation. Are they some kind of alien? Oh my gosh. Is this a sort of transformation chamber?
Lifting my hand, I examine it, and promptly begin freaking out. My skin has changed into the color of an actual peach. Is it my imagination or is it sparkling like a Twilight vampire? I have to get out of here.
I try pounding on the walls, but my arms move as though I’m in a pool of water, though I know I’m not in any kind of liquid at all. Am I? No. I can feel tears streaming down my face. What have they done to me? Kicking out with a foot, I manage to make a crack in the wall, causing the fog to escape and cool air to pour in.
“Should we help her?” the younger man asks. I can understand them now. They’re not far away.
“No. This is an abecedarian task she should do on her own,” the other replies.
I don’t even know what that word means, but it sounds like they want me to break out. That concept causes me to pause my attempts. It can’t be a good thing to leave here if they desire me to get out on my own.
A dark blue eye peeks in through the crack in my wall when I haven’t done anything for a while. Part of a smile is exposed on the lower part of his face.
“She’s beautiful.” It’s the younger of the two. “Come now, little one. You can do it.”
“I’m alright in here,” I say.
They both laugh.
I don’t think it’s funny.
“You need to leave your egg now, sweetling. Experience your new world.”
His smile widens.
The idea of being in an egg does it for me. No matter what I face out there, I can’t be in an egg. I’m not a bird or a fish or a reptile…or a platypus. My arms and legs thrash all over and soon I’ve broken out of the egg, leaving shards of the glittering peach shell scattered all over the floor around me.
To Be Continued…
One of the major themes in The Talented Turtle is being willing to accept help and friendship when it is offered. At first, Mary is too shy to even speak to anyone, but eventually realizes that life is so much better with friends.
Even as adults, we can find ourselves trying to do everything on our own. Have you ever been having a rough go at it and someone says, “If you need anything, please let me know”? I have. How many times have you taken that person up on their offer? If you’re like me, probably not often enough.
There are many excuses for that. Maybe it was an empty gesture. You don’t want to be a burden. You need to look strong and like you have everything together. There isn’t time. It doesn’t matter what you tell yourself, there really isn’t a good reason to not accept assistance from a friend.
Put yourself in their shoes. You see a friend having a rough time and you offer to help them, but they never take you up on your offer. You stand by and watch them spiral, helpless because they won’t take your hand. It’s hard when you see someone you love suffering.
The next time you’re sick and someone offers to pick up your kid, or someone dies in the family and someone offers to cook you a meal, accept the offer. Not only will it make your life a little easier, it will give that person great joy to be able to help you in your time of need.