I’ve written about “my little” before, but I’d stopped updating my index at that point and I can’t remember what I titled it, so … I dunno, it’s somewhere in that mountain of writing. So is the metaphor of all of these different aspects of my personality being passengers on a “bus” that take their turns at the wheel.
But if I recall the gist of it, it had to do with my “little” not being happy. A friend of mine called her a “Sad Little.” She, (because these different sides of me are like a bunch of different people that make up one phi), ….she (not me) is afraid, has abandonment issues, and feels a constant yearning to be unconditionally loved. She is the manifestation of my fears that the people I care about in my life are going to go away or not want me anymore.
And she’s been dormant for the better part of a year now. She was probably the last bit of me clinging with arms wrapped tightly around the ankle of codependency as it pulled away.
This new bit of me has emerged. He called her the “giddy teenager.” She is the manifestation of the excitement and joy and fearless way that I approach love when I feel completely secure. For those who know me in person and accuse my eyes of “lighting up” when I talk about him or something we’ve done or planned to do…that’s her. That’s the giddy teenage wallflower getting ready for prom with the star of the football team at the end of the 80s rom-com. Yes, in he next scene he’s throwing eggs at her or standing her up or whatever, but not that part. The part where she’s all excited in her new dress and her head is spinning with all the possibilities of what the night will bring.
That part. HER.
I fucking LOVE her.
But, I feel like it’s important to point out that these are all just little bits of me, and no one of these characteristics make up my whole. It’s not that the sad little has now aged into giddy teenager. Sad Little is dormant, but she’s still part of the whole phi, napping in the back of the metaphorical bus. None of us are one-dimensional characters, and we all have parts of us that ebb and flow with the tide of personality.
I know I’ve written about that before too, but whatever. I just think it’s important to remember that you don’t really know anybody here by the words on the screen, nor likely by the first impression they make on you.
Hell, he told me that when we first started spending time together, the giddy teenager caused him concern, but that over time he realized that she never takes over completely. Now, when she pops into the forefront, he smiles. He recognizes and loves her as part of who I am, and knows that I can (and do) send her to the back of the bus when it’s time for one of the serious or mature aspects of my personality to take the wheel.
Giddy teenager does not just become “bratty sorority girl” when responsibilities come knocking. I don’t actually have “bratty sorority girl” on the bus.
Guess she overslept and missed the stop.