Take a chance on me. Who?
Who am I talking to? Who is it that needs to take a chance? What do the lyrics of the song say?
If you’re all alone when the pretty birds have flown,
Honey, I’m still free. Take a chance on me.
I loved Abba. And I loved the film Mamma Mia using Abba’s songs. The lyrics fitted the plot quite well. Okay, it was cheesy. The plot was thin. The acting, hmmm, predictable. But for a light-hearted romantic tale with some beautiful scenery thrown in, you could do worse.
And Julie Walters. Who could forget her rendition of the song? She wasn’t about to give up on the guy she had her sights on.
He looks terrified. But she keeps going. She’s willing to take the risk of asking him to take a chance.
So, what about me, then? Should I be getting out there doing a Julie Walters and targeting some bloke?
Err, no thank you. There are things I have to do first.
Who needs to take a chance on me?
I need to learn more about myself.
It’s a strange thing to reach this advanced stage in my life and come to the conclusion that there are things I still don’t know about myself. In my last post, I wrote about vulnerability. It isn’t a weakness. It’s the greatest strength humans possess – this willingness to be open and honest and take one’s chances in life with the people we meet.
But, see, the problems creep in when some of those people we meet don’t possess the same strength. They have ulterior motives. They hide them from you because they know if they were open and honest about what they had in mind, you’d run a mile. So they pretend to be something they’re not. Like the wolf in Red Hiding Hood featured in another previous post.
So, what’s a girl to do?
How can we make the best of these attributes? It takes so much strength to overcome the negatives that sometimes come your way there are times when it’s easier to give in. You might think, ‘Is it all worth it?’ ‘What’s the point?’
The point is, what’s the alternative? You have to keep going. Don’t listen to those negatives in your thinking, telling you the bad stuff. You already know the bad stuff. The objective is to get out of the bad stuff.
I write from the heart. It’s who I am. I have all the tools I need to get out of the bad stuff and move on. Of the four endowments listed above I have conscience; I have independent will and I have an abundance of creative imagination.
I’m working on the self awareness.
I’ve identified areas of weakness.
You’d think I had all the confidence in the world if you knew the things I’ve done, the jobs I’ve had, the activities in which I took part. I won’t go into them all here and now. It’s enough to say I was never afraid to be in the public eye. Acting. Singing. Teaching. Selling my artwork at craft shows etc.
In the past I have had confidence to do many things. But when the aforementioned bad stuff comes along what happens to all that confidence?
It gets knocked out of you.
It’s a long haul upwards from the pit of overwhelming despair you find yourself in after years of emotional and psychological abuse. But, I’m hauling. I’m hauling.
I know some of my weaknesses. I make excuses for people who treat me badly. I don’t listen to my gut instincts telling me that something is wrong. I think I can make everything be okay when it’s obvious the situation is past redemption. I don’t like quitting when I should really walk away. I don’t have strong enough boundaries.
I’m finding out who I am.
Women of my generation learned from their mothers that the right thing to do is hang on in there when the relationship with the significant other faltered.
They didn’t have the pill in those days. They didn’t have the internet where all manner of information is readily available. They didn’t have the freedoms of women today. Many were completely dependent on their husbands.
Girls wanted marriage and a home of their own to start their own families. And in order to have those things it was necessary to have a good man to provide them. How lucky they considered themselves if they were Bobby’s Girl. If they wore his ring. If, if, if . . .
Girls grew up wanting to be chosen by the lad they had their eye on. My generation wasn’t taught how to be choosy instead.
So, here we are, then. Keeping going, recognising my own limitations so I don’t go and make the same mistakes all over again. Putting those boundaries in place. Learning how to recognise fakes and users.
Getting ready for whatever comes next. Writing from the heart.
The pretty birds have flown, Celia. You’re on your own now. You’re still free.
(Leave a comment. I’m happy to hear from my readers.)
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/take-a-chance-on-me/”>Take a Chance on Me</a>