Letting Go

“The cold never bothered me anyway…” Idina Menzel-“Let it Go” from the movie Frozen

This blogging adventure has taken me places I never thought I’d go, all without leaving the relative comfort of my desk or my couch. Some of the locations have been physical, while others have been inside my own mind. Today I came across a blog post that caused me to look inside and see how far I’ve come. Fellow blogger Michele shared a blog about conquering criticism and it brought back a rather unpleasant memory, but it also showed me how I’ve finally managed to pack up the unpleasantness and move on to bigger and better things…

I’m in my 3rd grade classroom, circa 1971. The desks are all lined up-4 or 5 rows and probably 5 desks per row. The class was full and the teacher was in front of the class asking questions about whatever subject was at hand-I think it was geography. I thought I knew the answer to one of her questions so I raised my hand. The teacher did not hear my answer clearly so she repeated what she thought I said, out loud, for the whole class to hear. It was NOT what I said, but by that time the damage had been done and the whole class was in stitches. I don’t think the class ever heard my actual answer because the laughter was so loud. You can be sure it was a VERY long time before my 3rd grade self raised my hand in that classroom again.

Third grade was a lifetime ago and it amazes me how vivid this memory still is in my mind’s eye. While I don’t remember the exact subject matter, I can still hear the almost mocking tone of the teacher’s voice when she said what she said, and I’m sure she had no idea at the time what affect her words would have on me. For the longest time I was afraid of revealing too much of myself publicly because I was deathly afraid of ridicule. I can still remember how it felt to hear that laughter knowing without a doubt it was directed squarely at me.

I still hold my cards pretty close to the chest in a lot of instances but it has taken a HUGE leap of faith for me to share my experiences with the world. I do so in the sincere hope that I might just inspire someone to take their own leap, follow their heart, or possibly to keep someone from making the same mistakes I’ve made. I’ll probably never know if I’ve succeeded in any of these things, but in all honesty I don’t need to know. What I do know is that I’ve been true to myself and I’ve “let go” of the fear and dread of the past. Look out world…

Have you had a similar experience? Please share in the comments-I’d love to hear from you! Thank you.

Be well and God Bless-until we meet again…

Author: olderwisermoneymiser

I’m a 50-something wife, mom, and full time accounting administrator sharing my journey from work to retirement.

5 thoughts on “Letting Go”

  1. Isn’t it strange how the small, seemingly insignificant events of our childhoods can shape our future? We’re so fragile when we’re young, and words can wound deeply. I was a shy kid… an only child of older, affluent parents. Seen and not heard for many years. It took a long time to find my voice. I’m glad blogging has given you the opportunity to share…. it’s a wonderful platform for reaching out. And I daresay you’ve helped some along the way…. even if they don’t yet have the voice to say so!

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  2. Your post reminded me of a very poignant 4th-grade experience. I grew up on welfare in a government housing project, but attended the Catholic school across town (thanks to financial aid). One day the teacher was explaining that those who are truly poor are those without love. A classmate turned to me and from across the room so that everyone could hear, said – “So Janet, you aren’t really poor then because you have friends and we love you.” Talk about a double-edged sword.
    I am glad you have found your voice through your blog — you offer thought-provoking, keeping-it-real content about topics that can be tough to talk about for so many. Thank you!

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  3. I’ve always been the outspoken sort – from an early age I think I saw how limited my Mom was because of being painfully shy. She couldn’t/wouldn’t speak up in situations that truly called for it. Being able to stand up and speak my mind without caring what others said back to me wasn’t something I decided to do. It just always seemed to be that way. Which works for me – I can speak in front of hundreds of people now without having any fear or hesitation. However, I was sensitive to teasing about my appearance. I wasn’t an ugly child – but I was very thin and tall. My bones stuck out in places where other kids looked normal. Top that with being anemic so I had dark circles under my eyes all the time, and I was so pale I looked sickly. As I got older, when the other girls were developing, I didn’t. I truly didn’t even NEED a bra until I was at least 14, and that was a training bra. Boys were merciless. I’d hear them taunting me in the halls at the Jr. High that I was so flat chested you couldn’t tell whether I was coming or going. I was too stubborn to let it show that it hurt, or that it was embarrassing to me. Sadly, looking back at those days from a now round shape, I wish I was that skinny stick girl again.

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