The Scorched Barb
Is it possible to not get singed when in close vicinity of someone determined to commit spiritual self-immolation? I don't know. Trying to release the residue of such an encounter had me doodling this for tonight's digital meditation painting on my phone.
I openly admit that I suck when it comes to painting on my phone, but there's something about the act of doing so that floods me with great relief. Perhaps it is because it's the one media I don't feel bad about mucking up, and I just allow myself to move color around. There is such freedom in that.
While doing so tonight, I realized the expectations I place upon myself are often quite silly and counter-productive. I think I'm going to make myself share more of them here due to that. Not all, but maybe the ones representing an important moment.
There is a person in my life who likes to compare today's me with a me from thirty years ago. With a me who was not comfortable in her own skin, but was determined to be seen in a very specific light. She was not succeeding in the way that I now define success. She was exceptionally good at surviving, and rose to every challenge that came her way. She was miserable most of the time. Terrified more often than not. And mistakes were not allowed. She wasn't someone I'd encourage anyone to be. She definitely did not love herself.
Today, I do. He seems to have a real problem with that. I think it more that he can't stand himself therefore he needs someone to project all of that self-loathing on to. When he decides to go there, it's a massive energy suck from multiple directions, and it always leaves me feeling it in a multitude of ways. I have gotten much better at navigating that.
I wasn't sure if writing this or sharing the doodle was the correct choice. I now find my eyes growing heavy to the soothing sounds of nature I have raining in the background. That tells me the magic of acknowledging is working. I am grateful for the sleepy smile this contemplation has gifted me. Perhaps come morn I will feel much lighter.
Written August 1, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.
