Being Heard & The Green Post It Note

I have so rarely been heard, truly listened to.  I begin to wonder if as human beings, if it is even possible for us to really hear what another person is aying because no matter what we have our own internal chatter, perceptions and biases.  I feel often times that nobody hears what I’m really trying to say.  I often feel like nobody really understands me because they aren’t really hearing me.  They are just hearing me as they want to hear me, not for what I am rally saying.  Or… maybe sometimes I am just not blunt enough and just need to say things clearer.  I worry to much about how to make something come out so it sounds right that I don’t speak from my heart enough.

I don’t stick up enough for myself and say what I really need and ask for what I really want.  I am starting to realize that that has hurt nobody but me.  It has murdered my self esteem and has left me a shell of a person.  I don’t even listen to myself anymore like I used to.  Instead I attempt to shush out the thoughts…. the thoughts I need to deal with and confront.  Instead I replace them with preoccupation with anxieties… fears.

As I told my husband… “I don’t know how to deal with my shit”…. even though… I used to.

It was because I listened, with my heart.  Even when it was utterly irrational I never once regretted following it.  It has only been when I have refused to listen, refused to follow that I regretted where my life has led me, regretted the experiences I didn’t get to learn from.  It is where the fear started.

Today… after my breakdown about the financial aid situation… I went to Barnes & Noble because it is one of my ‘happy places’.  I picked up a random self improvement book that probably wouldn’t have normally appealed to me but as I flipped through it I found a green post it note inside with “You are beautiful” written on it.  The world suddenly ceased to exist for a moment as I stumbled upon that.  People passed by me holding the green post it note.  I was utterly convinced… that some how that had been left there specifically for me to find on that very day.

I contemplated leaving it there, for somebody else to find, but I needed it, as a I reminder… a reminder that somebody knew that somebody would need to really hear (err read) that and so they left a tiny note for discovery.  I tucked it into my purse and later into the Claire Weekes book I bought as I sat on the ramp in front of the lake at the Rose Gardens.  It is my reminder…

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