...Loud. If you've met me you already know this. If you haven't this is your warning. It's not like I go around screaming in libraries or anything, but you probably won't have to strain to hear me often either. I'm loud. I've spent a lot of my life trying not to be loud, being made to feel bad about it, or being judged for it. I'm still loud. I also curse more than I should. (Sorry, Grandmama.) I'm trying to get better about the cursing though. After all, the littles are watching. Besides, thinking of creative, non-cursing ways to express myself can be fun. Or at least figuring out non-American curses I can throw at people that sound awesome enough that people aren't entirely sure what I'm calling them until I'm long gone.
Anyways...
Apparently some people think my being loud means that I'm angry all the time or something. It doesn't. I'm always loud. I'm loud when I'm angry, yes, but I'm also loud when I'm happy, sad, scared, delighted, perplexed, excited, tired, giddy...You get the idea. I'm loud. I'm not loud when it isn't appropriate. I'm not loud, or even talkative when I'm out of my element or around people I don't know. In fact, quite the opposite, I tend to get so quiet that I can apparently come off as standoffish and "bitchy". I guess I'm "loud" even in my silence. I suppose I make up for that by being extra loud when I'm in my spaces and around people I'm comfortable with. Here in Colorado that would be my family.
People apparently don't like this. I've apparently become the talk of some of the more childish folks here on base. And you know what. I'm okay with it. It's taken me quite awhile, but there are some things about me that I'm starting to like. Not all of the time. Old habits are hard to break, so I don't want it to seem like I'm dancing around 24/7 with an "I don't give a #*$%!" attitude. But I have this inner bad ass named Roxie that started to appear sometime around 30, and sometimes when it starts to bother what other people say or think she'll appear, give me a good kick in the tush, and say something like "Jesus, Holly, you're loud! It's who you are. They can get over it or they can go screw themselves, but it's their loss. Not yours."
So, I'm loud. That's my great confession of the day. That, and I guess the fact that I have an imaginary inner bad ass named Roxie. *thumbs up* I'm kind of strange.
Michael's on mids tonight, the boys room has been silent for awhile, and my tiny dancer is fast asleep. I could clean, watch Doctor Who reruns, read...Decisions, decisions.
(Immediately after writing that a little boy that I know sneaked up silently and peeked through my door. It took everything in me not to scream bloody murder. Never a dull moment with these three!)
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