Thursday, January 17, 2008
The Vocation of Servitude
Serve. Always hated that word. See, I'm not really a server per say. I am more of a serv-ee. I enjoy being taken care of at home, as I take care of people all day at my job. It's in my nature, my blood. I've grown up around a whole harem of women servers. Maybe server isn't a politically correct word. But I've grown up in a world where women are the fixers, the merry makers, the make rights. We live to be taken advantage of, to be thrown out without a second glance, our feelings never considered. Perhaps that is why I am so strong and why my mother, aunt and Grandma were so strong. But we're also crazy and mental illness runs rampant in my family.
It's a hard life always pretending and keeping your feelings inside. I get tired of swimming upstream and against the current. It's something I work on everyday, something I strive not to do. But it's hard to be yourself and not tear others down.
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