Open mouth. Insert foot. Choke on it.

Ya knowwww... I don't exactly have a reputation for doing things half way. I've always believed the old adage that something worth doing is worth doing well. Apparently, that is true even when it comes to screwing up.

A girlfriend called me today and said that she'd enjoyed reading my blog. Blush, blush...gee thanks...etc. She continued, "But I just wanted to tell you that when I read your letter to Mr. Leon, and you gave him a hard time about him laughing when he read your letter..." Yeahhhh, I said. "Welllll, I was sitting at my computer totally laughing out loud because that first letter was so, well, funny." GULP.

Could it be that I was SO prepared for negative feedback from the teacher that I made the assumption that he was laughing AT me, not WITH me? Or that maybe he really was a little embarrassed and he was chuckling nervously because I called him on it???

Holy SMOKES! As if that wasn't enough, I blasted him with ANOTHER letter because I thought he didn't take my concerns seriously. Then I became outraged when he didn't respond to it. Good Lord! He's probably trying to figure out how long I've been out of the institution.

At this point any reasonable person might have dropped it. Not me. I couldn't let it go. Instead, I published his email AND encouraged pretty much every living, breathing human being I know to attack him. Have I completely lost my mind? Is sudden onset of a complete manic episode an early sign of menopause? Do I have a brain tumor eating away the part of my mind where sense SHOULD be??? Aaaaaaargh! I hate it when I do things that totally and completely hot-headed.

However, the truth is that the laughing wasn't the only issue. It might be what sent me over the edge, but it wasn't the meat and potatoes. What really bothered me was that I perceived that he was just covering his butt in his reply to me, and that he gave lip service to believing that what I do is important, and that he was patronizing me with his invitation to the class. In my normal state of mind, I might have thought...wow, he's really a big jerk, but who cares what he says...I know I'm doing something extraordinary. Instead I practically turned into an internet-stalker.

I've spent a number of years attempting to loosen myself from the things of this world that bind me. For instance, I try not to take what other people think about me to heart. That's why shaving my head was so important. That's why I intentionally DON'T wear makeup to most things. There is NO value in those things. I had to learn that truth the hard way.

When I began to gain weight with pregnancies, from medicines I was on, or simply because I had a personal relationship with Ben, Jerry AND Edy (I swing both ways), it affected how I felt about myself. I went into catastrophic depressions... I believed that I wasn't worthy of love or friendship or anything else of value because I was fat. How sad is that? It affected the kind of wife, mother and friend I could be to others. That's the kind of thinking that has started an epidemic of young girls (12 and 13 year olds) with bulimia.

My self image has been shaped over the years by a number of things including being rejected by the father who raised me, being given up for adoption, my physical appearance, my first marriage and subsequent divorce, the list goes on and on. But my TRUE self image has nothing to do with any of that. The way I view myself should only be shaped by God's image of me. Doesn't the Bible tell us that we were created in His image? If that is the case, then no matter how I act or what I look like, He will still see me the exact same way...warts and all. And the best part is that He promises to love me ANYWAY. Wowwwww... that is an awesome thing to think about.

God is like a parent to a child when it comes to us. You look at them and remember the tiny baby you held in your arms and all the hopes and dreams you had for their future. Then you watch them make bad choices... some with minor consequences, some with more dire repercussions, but in the end after you scrunch up your eyes and try to look away but can't... you go to them and hold them, brush them off, dry their tears, and give them a squeeze that will imprint on their spirit for the rest of their life. And you tell them, "I love you NO MATTER WHAT."

So with God on my side loving me in that way, it is easy for me to formally (to Mr. Leon) and publicly (to you) acknowledge that I was a big jerk. I truly have no idea why this particular issue pricked my nerve the way it did, but when it did, all hell broke loose. Either way, it was a growing experience for me, and I suspect that the teacher will guard his comments more carefully in the future which is a good thing. In the meantime, I'll just be tuckin' my tail between my legs and go on back to lettin' the educators educate, even if they sometimes do or say things I don't approve of. Just like me... no one is perfect.

I've done reaped what was sown.