yer fake name is not for everyone, good enough for me.

we are each other's perceptions.

we are defined by them at least.

we are creatures of dualism,

though people can only see one side at a time.

some who know you well,

know both sides of you, if not more.

but in entirety of being?

no.

every thought, every word,

every contradiction,

every confusion,

every thriving or struggling of being.

here are some of my transparent examples:

today in the lunch room i was teased for

'always being soo healthy'.

"do you ever eat anything besides vegetables everyday?"

i protested,

sharing that i love pizza and french fries,

while my peers looked at me like 'yeah. right.'

like the girl who's crying while swearing she isn't sad.

if only they knew that right now i was lying on the floor,

drinking warm beer and eating peanut butter m&ms for dinner.

: :

earlier this week i was awarded employee of the month again.

first person who ever got it twice in one year at our company of 800+ people.

i was awarded it while job searching on my laptop.

while looking up fashion schools and internships in paris.

i was praised for starting these state initiatives that were personally

recognized by the governor.

i was honored for being good at things i could not care less about being recognized for.

(i'm not trying to come across as arrogant as i probably am,

i just feel more pride and joy when the girl at walgreens

compliments the hairpiece i designed myself, 

than when i receive a personal letter from jan brewer).

i don't even care about politics...

and she's got a bad rap around here.

 (which if my theory is correct, means she probably a good person somewhere).
then i came home and couldn't change my water cooler by myself.
the full bottle sitting on my table,
taunting my strong, capable self.
i'm strong enough to start county wide initiatives for early intervention,
but i'm too weak to change my own water jug.
i could feel my face get hot with tears.

: :

a few months ago,

one of my employees was leaving for a meeting,

and after going out to her car,

ran back into my office very flustered.

"what's wrong? flat tire?" i asked.

"there's a flopping injured bird on my car, i can't look, it won't get off, pleeease help me."

so i went to the kitchen,

put two plastic bags over my hands,

tied a paper towel to my face with a rubber band,

and went outside.

i walked up to her car to find this mangled HUGE nasty pigeon on her hood.

flopping and flapping,

and gross. i mean, gross.

i took a deep breath,

and in one motion,

jerked out my hands,

picked it up,

and (lightly) tossed it on the grass.

that girl still talks about how 'brave' & 'fearless' i am.

yeah right.

i'm the same girl who still sleeps with the bathroom light on.

: :

recently when i started going places

(mostly coffee shops)

i'm been giving a fake name.

i come up with it,

right on the spot,

and see if i can remember what i said

when they call my order.

i've been thinking about how we can really be whatever we want.

i can tell people i'm a vegetarian,

or a runner.

we can create how people perceive us.

what we want to be defined by.

that guy at starbucks will never know that he just made a drink for

bradley whose real name is tannia.

it's quite silly really.

childish.

i was reflecting on all this tonight.

the dualism (at minimum) of humankind.

and thinking that there is only one being

who knows it all.

every cell,

every thought,

every truth. every lie.

what i say and what i do,

and how they are and aren't the same.

when i'm scared or (seemingly) brave.

and in those moments i feel most alone,

in those moments when i wonder if anyone will truly ever know me,

whispers,

"your fake name is good enough for me...

i know the name i gave you and i won't forget.

beloved."

grace in the mess.