I’m An Effing Rainbow

Trying to find myself…whatever that means.

I have been doing quite a bit of thinking, and although exhausting, I’m happy to report I’ve finally settled on a few things. Ever the realist, with a tiny garnishment of pessimism, I try my best to step outside myself and be as unbiased as one can.

I’ve met many people who have done me the service of mapping out all the ways I am not good enough. Too tall. Too loud. Too fat. Not smart. Not worthy of time. Not worthy of the effort. Not worthy of commitment. I’m sure as you read this you’re thinking “Yeah Roxy, life fuckin sucks sometimes, move on.” I’m trying dear friend, I’m trying.

As I peer past my impending divorce, at the horizon beyond my husband, I know I have to face who I have become so I can work with, as opposed to against, what I am. Who I am. I’ve been my own worst enemy for the longest time, my toughest critic, and I’m over it.

The problem with people I’ve trusted my entire self with is their negative notions of me become my inner narration. I’d very much like to stop adopting all the worst opinions of myself as my own. There are a few select, kind, gentle souls who continue to put up with my crazy ass and for them, I am eternally grateful. You know who you are.

As I was talking with a friend, one of these kind souls mentioned above, I mentioned a rainbow. Not in any specific sense but when I said the word, it clicked for me.

I’m a fucking rainbow. Let’s dissect that, shall we?

I’m always associated with a storm. You don’t see rainbows on clear days, do you? It could be a storm of emotions, of thoughts, or my actual non-stop dreams of tornadoes.

Non. Stop.

You can see a rainbow, stare at it, but never grab it. It’s right in front of you, but aloof all the same. Try to grab the next rainbow you see. She will disappear. Try to study it up close. You can’t.

Steadfast in the wake of the storm, rainbows are reassuring. They’re the grand symbol the storm has passed and all will be okay. The rainbow has the storm at its back. Everyone stares at them. Everyone takes time to stop and watch, but then they snap their picture for Instagram and move on about their lives. The rainbow is only good for temporary joy. A distraction from the business of life.

A distraction.

Distractions, however joyful, are not meant to last. They serve a very specific purpose and when that purpose is fulfilled, they’re disposable. It is always okay if a distraction, a rainbow, goes away. That is their job. They exist for a few moments of pleasure, and then need to vanish.

Sometimes you’ll see partial rainbows. A half, or a quarter, sometimes even less, of a full arch. It all depends where you stand. Your proximity and direction in relation to a rainbow determine how much of herself she will reveal.

I am the same way, and I have accepted that about myself. I reveal only what I feel someone is deserving to know. You experience me in exact proportion to how much I feel you can be trusted. Some have seen all of me, you’re fucking welcome, but many will never be allowed to see the real me at all.

I suppose that’s an underrated gift from those who have hurt me. Protecting myself, my essence, my center, from everyone means I have a chance to study people before I allow them to get close. Taken to the extreme, I have in fact walled myself off completely for years and I realize there has to be a balance. There has to be a balance between vulnerability and self-preservation. Too much in one direction, and you’re a fucked up looking rainbow. Too much in the other direction, and you don’t exist at all.

As I ponder intimate relationships after my divorce, I know I need to find that balance in order to sustain healthy partnerships. I need to be open and vulnerable, which is scary as fuck, but protect my heart as it has been shattered so many times. Really y’all, this thing is being held together by dollar store packing tape and hope.

Getting to know a rainbow is so difficult, but that’s the point. It’s easy to weed out all the people who are there for a momentary Instagram shot. Momentary, self-serving, pleasure. Even the whiff of work to get near me, and these people run for the hills.

The worthwhile people, the people I want to connect with, will put in the work. It’s not easy, but it’s fucking worth it. It takes time, patience, and trust-building. Slowly but surely I will reveal each of my colors to you.

At some point, there will be a man (fucking hopefully) that will recognize there are colors he may not quite yet see, but he knows they are worth the effort. He will do the work, put in the time, give me true commitment and he will see me. He will see all my colors. I will show him the good, the bad, and the ugly, and he will still feel I was worth all the work. Even the ugly was worth it.

He will be able to get close. I will allow him to see me complete. When the work is done, he will reach my end. It takes a lot of work to find the end of me, but when you do you will find a treasure, and that treasure is anal.

If you didn’t laugh at that last part, I recommend you not click on anything in the rest of my Medium profile. I’m not your flavor. If you did laugh, you’re my people.

Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts and reflections! I hope you were able to connect with even a tiny piece of this in some way. Feel free to learn more about me by visiting my profile. 18+ only please. Thank you!