What Makes Me Feel Beautiful
Elyssa D. Durant © 1995
I was in danger of falling in love with being in love.
This love is the shallow conditional "love" I grew up with as a child. The kind of love that I came to believe was for other children. Children less difficult or better behaved than I could ever be. The kind of love that used to scare me because it was so unfamiliar.
It existed only in titles and words; is dependent upon an ideal that can never be met.
The additional danger in that for me, is that even the ideal ideal is so incredibly foreign, that I can not seem to grasp.
I needed a self worth in and of its self so that I can go into a relationship knowing that I bring as much if not more than I can take. In my loneliness, the thing I "need" and feel tempted to take, is time.
This is the time where I can find myself lost in my words, or in their absence. I find myself needing something, anything, from anyone capable of diverting my attention from the realities I would rather not see.
In my work, I can forget about everything else. I can feel strong, and I can feel whole, I can feel beautiful, and I can feel love.
You once asked me what makes me feel beautiful.
I don't know what the "right" answer was to that question, though I remember the clear
distinction of the physical, external beauty we see in magazines and soap operas, as opposed to the inner-beauty we hear of on Oprah. I told you that I feel most beautiful in the Theatre class I TA'd for last spring.
We discussed the association between beauty, knowledge, and power. And although I am unsure if I could express the sentiments at the time, I can now clearly see that sitting in front of that Theatre, I didn't need to rely on the external.
"This is what a grad student looks like" Our first acquaintance at lunch during the summer of 94. you commented how the boys would eat me up at law school. Isn't that the point.
I do not wish to compromise your peace in any way. Whether you realize this or not, 1 write these words mostly for myself, as they clearly reflect my self I have tried not to define myself through and by my relationships with others, since 1 believe that reality and identity is something that comes from within. Perhaps that is why I am so intrigued by the social context of evaluation, since it is in perpetual conflict with the belief in subjective reality.
So to learn of your incredible distaste for me, which from my understanding is quite strong, is the exact same reasons you were drawn to me in the fist place.
in the relationship we may have had at one point, and your subjective interpretation of events.
Though I need no clarification, I will not pretend as though there is no motive beneath this contact. So in the world of business where there ain't no such thing as a free lunch, you have something I need, I am willing to pay for your time, but not your love.
[note pgs 3-300 may show up someday... or maybe not]
This love is the shallow conditional "love" I grew up with as a child. The kind of love that I came to believe was for other children. Children less difficult or better behaved than I could ever be. The kind of love that used to scare me because it was so unfamiliar.
It existed only in titles and words; is dependent upon an ideal that can never be met.
The additional danger in that for me, is that even the ideal ideal is so incredibly foreign, that I can not seem to grasp.
I needed a self worth in and of its self so that I can go into a relationship knowing that I bring as much if not more than I can take. In my loneliness, the thing I "need" and feel tempted to take, is time.
This is the time where I can find myself lost in my words, or in their absence. I find myself needing something, anything, from anyone capable of diverting my attention from the realities I would rather not see.
In my work, I can forget about everything else. I can feel strong, and I can feel whole, I can feel beautiful, and I can feel love.
You once asked me what makes me feel beautiful.
I don't know what the "right" answer was to that question, though I remember the clear
distinction of the physical, external beauty we see in magazines and soap operas, as opposed to the inner-beauty we hear of on Oprah. I told you that I feel most beautiful in the Theatre class I TA'd for last spring.
We discussed the association between beauty, knowledge, and power. And although I am unsure if I could express the sentiments at the time, I can now clearly see that sitting in front of that Theatre, I didn't need to rely on the external.
"This is what a grad student looks like" Our first acquaintance at lunch during the summer of 94. you commented how the boys would eat me up at law school. Isn't that the point.
I do not wish to compromise your peace in any way. Whether you realize this or not, 1 write these words mostly for myself, as they clearly reflect my self I have tried not to define myself through and by my relationships with others, since 1 believe that reality and identity is something that comes from within. Perhaps that is why I am so intrigued by the social context of evaluation, since it is in perpetual conflict with the belief in subjective reality.
So to learn of your incredible distaste for me, which from my understanding is quite strong, is the exact same reasons you were drawn to me in the fist place.
in the relationship we may have had at one point, and your subjective interpretation of events.
Though I need no clarification, I will not pretend as though there is no motive beneath this contact. So in the world of business where there ain't no such thing as a free lunch, you have something I need, I am willing to pay for your time, but not your love.
[note pgs 3-300 may show up someday... or maybe not]
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