In Mourning

The past week has been a very difficult one for me.  I find myself in mourning once again. This most recent round of crying spells centered on the truth that I will never have a child.  That I will never experience pregnancy.  The catalyst for my pitiful mood was seeing a mom crossing the street with her daughter when I was on my way home on Friday.  Out of the blue (or maybe not), I started balling - y'know one of those UGLY headache cries - and it went on all weekend.  I was so tired by Sunday from all the crying that when I finally went to bed, I passed out and was dead to the world.  Today I feel languid, almost like I am on autopilot. 

        I always wanted kids.  Two boys at least.  During my time in the cult I was a pioneer, I was on the RBC, served in a foreign language congregation, went to additional conventions and assemblies (other than the ones to which I was assigned), and I was considered a "popular" witness - I was invited to all of the parties, visited "friends" in other states, traveled outside of the U.S., I knew EVERYBODY.  In J-Dub world this is a recipe for finding a mate and getting married.  However, it did not work for me.  For all of the checks in the PROS column, I had some significant checks in the CONS column: ugly, black (how I hate that word), not submissive, fiercely independent, and opinionated.  I had lost the 'mate' race before I even started it.  Therefore having offspring of my own would never  happen.

        I don't understand why seeing that mom and her daughter affected me so deeply.  I can't blame it on hormones since I lost both ovaries in a total hysterectomy in 2004.  But i found myself wanting to be pregnant and wanting to be a mother.  The emotions have subsided a little, but not completely. 

        One side effect of this recent bout of sadness is a flare up of that anger that is always just beneath the surface.  Anger that I put my life on hold for nothing more than a stupid man-made fairy tale.  Sometimes I think I will never free myself of this enmity toward watchtower.

Stepford Escapee

Bad Motivation - Anger

Anger: noun

1. a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong; wrath; ire.

Anger is the one emotion that feels natural to me.  It wears me like a latex glove conforming to every negative space that envelopes my wounded psyche.  Without the anger I feel less than human, practically non-existent. 

Why am I so angry?  What could be so disconcerting to draw my ire?

The major thorn in my side is that I wasted nearly 40 years of my life in a brainwashed stupor following the designs of high control cult.  My youth and good health were stolen.  What stokes the fire even more is that the fact that I was too stupid to see the truth of my situation and save myself from it.   Now I am paying the price and hating every waking moment of my pitiful existence.

I am angry that the world tells me that I am inferior, yet I am constantly answering from and reminding people of things that should be common knowledge as if their brains are atrophied from lack of use.  I get royally pissed off when I have to constantly correct the work of those 'superior' to me, or take phone calls for simplistic questions that those 'superior' to me cannot seem to answer. 

I am angry that I work overtime every week and can still barely afford to keep a roof over my head.  If I have even two hours less overtime, I am in jeopardy of not paying one of my bills (and I don't have many at all). 

I am angry because I have to live in pain everyday because I can't afford to take off from work to get the surgery I so desperately need so I can function normally and live a more fulfilling life.  To be able to do my own grocery shopping, to take a walk, to dance, or to pursue the career I have wanted since I was in high school.  I am angry that I can't afford to have a dog when I really want to help rescue one that has been mistreated.

I am angry that I must leave my apartment every day to go to work terrified that I might be stopped by some maniac police office who is itching to kill anything with skin darker than a brown paper bag.  Terrified that each day I travel to and from work might be my last because my skin is seen as a weapon by the 'superior' end of the species.

I am angry that I can't even visit Starbucks without having an anxiety attack because I am afraid that the sorry ass barista  working the counter will call the police on me because I had the nerve to walk in to purchase a beverage or to have a seat because the pain in my back is about to make me fall on my ass.

I am angry that 14 years ago I lost my mother and I was so poor I could not afford to be there with her at the end.  Angry that in order to make it home for the funeral, I had to accept charity from my younger brother's employer because I did not have the funds to purchase the plane ticket.  Angry that I can't afford to blow off California and move back east to be there for a friend of my who is sick, and to be with people who know me and support me because they care about me, not the religion I practice (or don't practice).

I am angry because I let myself get fat and disgusting because I allowed my self to believe that jehovah would make me perfect in the new order. I am angry that because I drank the Kool-Aid and believed that I would get to have a family in the paradise so I gave an opportunity at love so I could be a 'good little witness'.  Now I will die never having experienced romantic love, raising a child, owning a home, just being a normal human being.

This is how I live every single day.  Pissed off.  The only time I get a break is when I finally close my eyes to sleep a few hours each night.  I have lived with my anger for so long that I don't know what life would look like without it.  It is like food, the only thing that gives me the energy to keep going.

I don't think I could survive without it.

Stepford Escapee

Bad Motivation - Fear

 n. - a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imaginged [...];

I am familiar with fear.  Fear rides on me like the Lone Ranger on Silver.  Fear rules my life.  Most of the decisions I make, are based on fear.

However, Fear can be necessary.  It can help us get away from danger or avoid it all together.  Fear will help us to be cautious when driving a car, to be alert when walking through an unfamiliar neighborhood, and fear of being "ordinary" can make you strive to be extraordinary.

On the flip side, fear can be paralyzing. 

I grew up with fear as a close companion. Growing up as a JDub, the constant talk about armageddon and the possiblity of being tortured by the authorities kept me in a heightened sense of fear.  Everytime I would hear about some major [violent] event on the news, I just knew armageddon was about to start and found myself obssessing about whether I was strong enough to withstand being tortured for my beliefs. 

And as it that did not cause enough anxiety, I also had to worry about Jehovah killing me if I did cave under the pressure of being tortured.  I remember being in field service one day and the elder in the car was telling the group that Jehovah knows our greatest fears and that if we are not loyal he would kill us at armageddon the way we feared most of dying.

You have no idea how what this elder said, f***ked with my head.  Every time I did anything wrong, no matter how insignificant, all I could think about was how jehovah was going to take pleasure in killing me using one of my worst phobias to do it.  It is no wonder why I was on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs.

Not all of my fears can be attributed to my time enslaved in religion. 

I fear leaving my apartment every morning to drive to work and then leaving work to drive home.  Why?  Because every police vehicle I see is a potential death sentence for me because I had the misfortune of being born in the wrong skin.  If I could find a legitemate "work at home" position, I would probably never leave my apartment.

I fear falling in public and then seeing my fat ass blasted all over YouTube.

I fear people feeling sorry for me because I am fat, hideous, and poor.

And I fear failure.  Probably the worst fear that I harbor. In part this fear is encoded in my DNA so I feel like I can never escape it.  This fear was nurtured in the in the JW culture which was never satisfied with one's level of participation.  You could give that organization blood, piss, and tears and they will still say that you are not doing enough.  It is no surprise that I was constantly taking anti-anxiety meds during my time as an active JW.

Then there are the "silly" fears, also called phobias:

Fear of worms

Fear of heights

Fear of phone calls (making them and receiving them)

Fear of confrontation

Fear of crowds

Fear of body fluids

Fear of large houses and hidden doorways

Fear of wood structures

And many more...

Unfortunately fear is a large part of the human experience.  The trick is learning to face it head on and do what scares the hell out of you.  If you don’t you will feel perpetually “stuck” in life.  Trust me.  I know.  It is an everyday struggle for me to not let my fears paralyze me.  It is a constant uphill battle, but I am determined to fight it day by day.

Stepford Escapee

A Brief Glimpse of Hope

It is not often that something breaks through the consistent black fog of despondency that surrounds me.  This weekend, however, there was a small breach.

Black Panther.

I have been anxiously awaiting this movie for more than a year, and I got to scratch that itch this past Saturday when I went to see the film.

I was not disappointed.  As with any movie, there were some “slow” parts, but once again Marvel Studios delivered a great entertainment experience.  I will not divulge any spoilers, I will simply give my impression of the movie.

Sets/Scenery/Filming locations: The scenes filmed in Africa were stunning. Wakanda came alive like a modern day Oz.  I really liked the juxtaposition of the traditional African accouterments with the futuristic technology.

The Cast: What else can I say??  To see a predominantly black cast and the movie not be about slavery - BONUS!!!  The cast members were people I could be proud of: intelligent, resourceful, creative, powerful, and fiercely independent.

The Women: I must give them their own paragraph.  NO BABY MAMMAS!!!!!!  The women were confident and strong.  They were the protectors of the realm.  Their natural beauty was highlighted - no relaxers, no weaves, no bleaching cream, and no colored contacts.

The Men: NO BABY DADDYS!!!!  The male characters were proud.  They took their responsibilities seriously and cared for their family and fellows.  They did not bow down to people of other ethnicities or look to them for their sense of self-worth or approval. 

Favorite Character: Killmonger.  I know he was the "villain" of the film, but I found myself understanding his position.  I did not agree with the way he chose to do something about the plight of his people but I take no issue with the reason he felt a call to action.

I really appreciated that this movie did not shy away from topics that are relevant for people of color today.  I know that this probably upset some white moviegoers, but hey, C'est Le Vie.  My response to that is this.  Just because something is irrelevant to your experience, does not invalidate that experience for others.  If you have never been raped, you cannot tell a rape survivor that he/she was not raped or that rape does not happen.  If you have never experienced domestic abuse, then you are not in a position to tell a survivor of domestic abuse that what they lived through is not domestic abuse.

But let's not end on a sombre note. 

This is a movie I would recommend to my fellow Marvel Universe fans.  Did it have some flaws?  Of course; every film does, but don't let that deter you from spending an evening being thoroughly entertained.   I think you will be pleasantly surprised.

Black Panther Box Office as of 03/16/2018 - $1,126,476,528 worldwide.

Domestic: $578,376,528                 Foreign: $548,100,000

Ciao,
Stepford Escapee

I Hate February 14th

Valentine's day - one of the worst days of the year.  Bitter much?  Yes I am. 

Valentine's day is just another day of the year that has no meaning in my life.  I have never had a boyfriend or significant other.  Never been in love.  And in all likelyhood, I will die having never experienced these things. 

People say that there is someone for everyone.  Just another lie.

In the social group I was raised in, if you were a black female, your chances of finding a mate was even worse than in the world in general.  So from my preteen years, I already knew I would probably be alone my entire life and die that way.  I have this recurrent 'daymare' in which I die, and I am not found until weeks later, because I have no one who cares.  The older I get the more I fear that this will become more than just a dream.

I grew up in a culture where dating was not acceptable unless you were ready to walk down the aisle.  It wasn't even called dating (that word was kind of taboo), it was called courting and it had only one purpose - to get to know your potential mate with the end goal being a wedding.  When you found someone you were interested in and you wanted to start courting, you had to be chaperoned; holding hands was frowned upon, and kissing - ABSOLUTELY NOT!  If by some unfortunate circumstance you did something more intimate than kissing (like touching a breast or the nether regions), well you had better rat yourself out to the "older men in the congregation" and take your discipline.

Even as f*cked up as dating was in the weird world of JWs, I would have like to have had the experience of being important to someone at least once.  But being born "black" (I despise this term, my skin is chocolate brown, NOT black) and ugly, I might as well had been invisible because no one sees you (guess I was noticed at least once in my life because a brother in my congregation told me I was ugly when we were out in field service.  I have never forgotten that day and I still want to punch that 'brother' in his face.)

I did make the mistake of letting myself crush on four different JW males, but I came to my senses when I remembered that I was less than nothing to these people.  In all honesty, I got what I deserved because I was the dumb bitch who made the mistake of thinking that maybe some would want me.

However, in the spirit of full disclosure, there was the potential of a relationship once.  He was a fellow student that I met at junior college.  He was 10 years my junior but we hit it off and became fast friends (something I have never had a problem with - I make friends pretty easily).  Things started to evolve and soon we were talking on the phone several times a week and I don't think we ever had a phone call that was less than 2 hours long.  We talked about everything - life, religion, politics, art, movies, sex, marriage, kids, a black woman's haircare, etc.  Talking to him was as natural as breathing.

I knew things were moving in the "wrong" direction when he asked me to ride with him on a class trip (for Art History 101) to the a popular museum. It was only me and him - we did not carpool with any of the other students.  On the way back to the college we stopped for dinner.  I remember being conflicted because I enjoyed his company, but because he was not a JW I was being disloyal to the "invisible dictator" in the sky.  I was also fearful of other JWs walking into the restaurant and seeing me with him.  Even with all the guilt I was feeling, I still went out to dinner with him again.  We went to an Irish pub and he gifted me a copy of "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" which was my favorite movie that year. 

Eventually the guilt won dominance and I started pulling away from him.  No explanation.  I did not treat him fairly.  I don't think a month goes by that I don't think about him and our brief time at least once.  That was the one and only chance I had to experience love and I threw it away because of the lies of a cult.  I can't even find the words to express the anger I still harbor about of this.

Now I am old and fat in addition to being black and unattractive.  A 100% guarantee that that I will die alone, never having experienced falling in love, never having had sex, and never having had a child of my own.

So, I hate Valentine's Day.  It is just a reminder of what I will never have.  Seeing people receive gifts from their significant others is like having a butcher's knife plunged into my gut and twisted for maximum damage.  I try to harden my heart and purge my soul of emotion but I am never completely successful. 

I guess my destiny is to suffer in silence until I finally drop dead and find a semblance of peace.

Stepford Escapee

Words from a "Happy" JW

When you are a JW you often hear from the platform and in the literature how you are "Jehovah's happy people".  I convinced myself I was happy.  But was I? 



This video was prompted by the call I received from an elder during my unemployed status.  He told me that I was happy when I was active.  Well, looks can be deceiving.  



In this entry I share just a few of the many poems I wrote while sitting in meetings at the Kingdom Hall, the one place I should have been able to find peace was like a vice grip on my throat.











Stepford Escapee

Growing up JW and Female. Lessons I learned.

This video really touched me.  I felt pretty much the same way growing up as a female in the JW organization.  Lucy for Danmera, she learned that she had some worth.  I still feel like a useless lump of flesh.



Stepford Escapee

Stepford escapee.

Another Survivor of the Cult

While watching an episode of Master Chef Australia, my ears perked up when one of the contestants was reciting her story and the words Jehovah's Witnesses were uttered...

"Dark Girls" - A Documentary

I just finished watching a documentary entitled “Dark Girls” by Bill Duke and D. Channsin Berry.  Following the presentation, I feel emotionally drained.  I know that I have been affected from childhood by the colorism that permeates brown-skinned people (like the little girl in the program, I hate the word ‘black’ because I am not black; my skin is brown.  I will not use the term ‘African American’ because I am not a naturalized citizen, I was born her and therefore I am just American), but I did not realize just how deeply these attitudes still affect me.

The program consists of a series of interviews with women of varying skin shades and backgrounds.  I was also surprised (pleasantly so), that a Korean-American woman was also included to show that this destructive attitude toward skin shade permeates cultures across the world, not just in the United States.  The interviews with men were also quite interesting.

The participants in the documentary spoke candidly about their experiences, how those experiences affected their lives, and how they have overcome the negative effects of colorism. 

While watching this program, I was forced to really think about how I feel about the issue.  If I am honest with myself, then I will have to admit that I hate the color of my skin and if scientist developed a way for people to change their ethnicity (I mean really change it, down to the DNA), I would probably be first in line to sign up for the human trials. 

I suppose I should be ashamed to feel this way, but I don’t.  Why should I feel bad about wanting to have the advantage of being seen as good, smart, industrious, righteous, deserving, clean, and everything else positive that is attributed to Caucasians?  Life would be so much better if the burden of being a person of color were gone.

Unfortunately there is no escaping my burden to birth.  Learning to live with it however, is proving difficult.  Not learning to live with it on the other hand, makes life more difficult to live than it should be.

Wrestling with this on a daily basis, is so emotionally and mentally tiring.

Watching this documentary did give me a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe I can work past this.  I don’t know if I can do it on my own, but knowing there is hope that I may have a chance at beating this does make the burden feel a little lighter.

"Dark Girls": http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1966396

Just sharing,

Stream of Consciousness - April 26, 2014

Last evening I cried like a blubbering idiot.

I cried so hard that I had a headache and red swollen eyes.

I could not stop once I started; I felt so stupid.

The weight of my existence is bearing down on me as the never ending boulders placed on the torso of one convicted as a witch.

I cower in the corner, a frightened animal, the will to strike back stripped away from me.  All that is left is a whimpering, castrated creature.

I am so weary, my body is boneless.

Mental tunnel vision beckons me toward a precipice and at its edge, the Grim Reaper awaits me with his lipless grin.

Mourning What Could Have Been

I woke up this morning thinking about someone who could have been an important part of my life.  (I will call him “Raul” as I have not enlisted his permission to write about him.)  I don’t know why he crossed my mind.  Maybe it is because I have been obsessing again about everything I have missed out on in life by being raised in a mind controlling cult.  Reading my friends updated online and seeing their family photos just rub salt in the wound that reminds me that I will never have a family of my own.  No one will ever call me Mommy.  There will never be anyone waiting at home for me when I get home from work.

Not that there was opportunity for me when I was “in the truth”.  I can’t speak for other areas of the world but in the area I grew up in black sisters did not stand much of a chance and the darker you were the worse your chances to ever be in a relationship.  So I had pretty much resigned myself to a life of singlehood and expected to die alone in a rundown apartment, my body discovered a few weeks after its expiration.

“Raul” was my chance to at a different path.  I met him when I lived down south and worked at the college.  I was taking some graphics and art classes and he was in several of the same classes.  We got along really well and had a lot in common, but I just chalked it up to the fact that we both really like movies and special effects.  Then the day came for a class field trip to the Dali Museum down in Saint Petersburg.  We would be taking several cars and “Raul” decided he would drive and said I could ride with him.  However, unlike the other cars, it was just the two of us riding together (which I found out later he maneuvered it that way).  All I kept thinking about was what if someone from the kingdom hall sees me in the car with this worldly guy! 

Well, no witnesses saw my transgression that day, “Raul” and I hung out together at the museum (along with our assigned group) all day, and on the way back to Clearwater, stopped at a restaurant for dinner. 

Thus started my brief stint into what would be considered bad behavior for a Jehovah’s Witnesses.  “Raul” and I would talk on the phone for hours at a time (which witnesses considered phone dating), hang out, talked about starting a business together, and generally spent a lot of time together outside of our regular class time. 

I never understood why this young man who was 10 years my junior, and could have had any of the Barbie doll blondes that were in our classes showed attention towards me.  It made absolutely no sense to me at all.  After all, he was “worldly”, the only thing he was interested in was looks and sex right?  Why did he find me worthy of attention when none of the better, spiritual men at the kingdom thought I was worth a thought?

The relationship with “Raul” could have progressed in a positive direction if I did not let fear of the organization overtake me.  Once it did I started pulling away from “Raul”.  We remained friends for a time, but with time we lost touch. 

I still think about him from time to time and wonder “what if”.  I hate myself for being so afraid of the organization and the consequences of defying it to the point of robbing myself of personal happiness.  Not that a relationship with “Raul” would have necessarily been perfect, but it would have been nice to have had the chance to find out.

Stepford Escapee

I Should This, I Should That. I should…I should…I should…

When I was still living on the east coast, I was seeing a therapist that did his best to get me to weed this word from my vocabulary.  I never understood why and thought he was just being difficult.  Now that I have had time to digest my sessions with him I am finally starting to get some clarity why he wanted me to avoid the use of the word “should”.

My life has been all about the S-H-O-U-L-D.  I should go to the meeting, I should go out in service, I should prepare my watchtower lesson, I should answer at the meeting, I should start a bible study, I should pioneer, etc, etc.  I could do everything on the list, but if I missed just one, I felt as if I had failed and that Jehovah had turned his back on me and I was going to die at Armageddon. 

Using the word “should” in your vocabulary has power.  This word helps us to put untold number of burdens on ourselves – realistic and unrealistic.  This word can give birth to guilt, shame, and all kinds of negative emotions.  

  

Even once I walked away from the world of watchtower, “should” has been an integral part of my psyche.  Then the thoughts were “I should not have left the organization”, “I should still believe in Jehovah”, “I should still pursue religion”, “I should go back”, etc, etc.

Even if I decide to take a day for myself then I am flooded with thoughts of what I “should” be doing (like cleaning the apartment, looking for a job, studying something, doing something constructive).

It is a miracle I have not “should” myself to death.

So now the task will be learning to use this term less in my conversations with myself and other people.  How to go about this, I am not quite sure.  This is yet another part of my journey to learning who I am.  

When thinking about this subject to write about, I found an article at the website Tiny Buddha that give some advice on managing the word “should”. 

Here is what author Hannah Braime, founder of Becoming Who You Are shared with her readers (Full article here: http://tinybuddha.com/blog/why-the-word-should-can-be-harmful-3-empowering-alternatives):

   1.   Focus on the benefits.

Instead of telling myself I “should” be doing more of something, I try to focus on why I want to do that particular thing.

Instead of saying “I should do more yoga,” I remind myself of why I want to do this: “I feel great when I do yoga a few times each week,” “I enjoy feeling myself relax and stretch out when I do yoga,” or “I feel a greater sense of self-connection when I make time to connect my body and my breathing in yoga.”

   2.   Focus on how the activity fits with your values.

One of the biggest things I used to “should myself about was being on time.  I struggled to turn up on time for work, appointments, meeting up with friends, and pretty much anything that was due to start at a set time.  It was a constant battle with myself and, of course, telling myself “You should be on time” or “you shouldn’t be late” did nothing to change my tardiness.

Instead, I started reframing this from the perspective of my values.  I started telling myself “It’s really important to me to be on time,” or “I want to live with integrity and do what I say I’m going to do, when I say I’m going to do it.”

    3.   Focus on accepting and exploring reality.

I used to think that I shouldn’t feel angry or jealous.  I had heard they were “unhealthy” feelings to experience and had the belief that there was something wrong with me for feeling that way.  No matter how much I told myself that I shouldn’t feel these things, however, they didn’t go away.

Now, I focus on accepting my experience.  Instead of telling myself “I shouldn’t be feeling/thinking _______,” I take a step back and say “Okay, I’m feeling/thinking _______.  I wonder why that’s happening now?”

Removing the word “should” from your vocabulary will take time, patience, and practice.  But it is possible, and it comes with great rewards.  Replacing “should” with more helpful dialogue will lead to a kinder relationship with yourself, and better relationships with the people around you too.”

As always your comments are welcomed.  I look forward to reading them.

Stepford Escapee

Who Am I?

This is a question that I am sure most of us have asked ourselves at least once in life.  For me at 48 (nearly 49) years of age, you would think the answer would be obvious to me by now.

But, it is not.  I don’t know who I am.

When I look in the mirror I see a thing I despise.  A monster.  A nothing.  I have seen myself like this for as long as I can remember.  At this point it feels normal.  I realize that this is not a healthy way of thinking.   

But why the question, “Who Am I?”

Because from age 7 to age 46 I was told how to think, how to feel, strongly encouraged what to read, what to watch, who to have as friends, and what my future would be.  Whenever someone would ask me “who are you”, I would always answer “I am one of Jehovah’s Witnesses”.  Thinking back on that now makes me feel a little creepy. Ironically, I thought I was in control and NOBODY dictated to me how to live my life. 

Man was I wrong!

In most normal families, parents nurture their offspring’s dreams of becoming firefighters, police officers, lawyers, actors, musicians – whatever their hearts draw them to.  Growing up in a Jehovah’s Witness environment, children are discouraged from having their own dreams.  Instead they are coerced to live their lives for the benefit of the organization because that is the only way they will be pleasing to god and to avoid his wrath at Armageddon.  Any other aspirations are considered “worldly pursuits” and are STRONGLY discouraged.  (Mind you, if you speak with any rank and file JWs or members of the governing body, they will assure you that they don’t tell their members what to do.  We all have the “free” will to make our own decisions. But this is a discussion for another post.)

So here I am in the second half of my life not really knowing who I am.  Not having an outside entity “guide” my every action feels foreign.  This new freedom feels as much like a prison as the control the Watchtower held over me nearly 4 decades.  I feel as if I have fallen and I can’t get back up.

Clearly, this is a journey that is going to be longer than I anticipated.  I just don’t know how much time I have left to figure it out, but every journey starts by taking the first step.  To begin walking down this path, I found a couple of self-assessment quizzes to gain some insight.  Here are the results:

Quiz #1 - Who Am I meant to Be (http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Who-Are-You-Meant-to-Be-Self-Assessment-Quiz):

Your Result:

Striving to Be Creative

You are an artist: You came out of the womb with a paintbrush in your hand. Or maybe it was a flute or a castanet or a fountain pen to go with your poet’s imagination. The point is, you’re an original, and you know it. Even if you don’t have a singular gift, you’re drawn to the arts—anything creative, for that matter— and you have a unique way of looking at the world. Your need for depth and authenticity in relationships can lead to both great joy and profound sorrow, depending on whether others reciprocate. You don’t care so much about adapting to group or societal expectations; your independence and sharp intuition propel you on your own path. 

What to watch out for: When fear of conformity overrides your creativity, you can assume the role of “outsider” or “orphan” and end up feeling alienated. You may even go so far as refusing to vote or pay taxes. This lone-wolf stance might be a defense against feeling vulnerable. Try to be aware that blaming others for your banishment, or pushing away those who want to get close, only makes things worse. Also, dramatizing your emotions can interfere with your creativity. 

Looking ahead: As long as you genuinely express yourself, you feel like the person you were meant to be. How you do it is irrelevant. A chef or architect can be as much of an artist as a painter or sculptor. Many advertising and public relations executives are also highly imaginative. Beyond work, there are opportunities everywhere you look to coax out your inner artist: Design your own jewelry line, create an innovative blog, dream up a comic strip. Relationships are another avenue for self-expression.

Your Scores

Many people have two or three strong striving styles, and they can all be important in leading you to the person you are meant to be. If you have a few "highest" scores, read each matching description by clicking the arrow below, and see what rings most true.

Striving to Help: 11

Striving to Be Recognized: 7

Striving to Be Creative: 11

Striving to Be Spontaneous: 6

Striving to Be Knowledgeable: 11

Striving to Be Secure: 10

Striving to Be In Control: 6

Quiz #2 - Who Am I? (https://whoami.visualdna.com/?c=us#quiz)

Some detailed results from this quiz that are eerily accurate:

OUTLOOK

Realist

Realists like to think they see things the way they really are. But it’s important to remember that everyone sees the world differently. You might tend to keep a level head, and don’t excite easily, but this can leave you susceptible to bouts of gloominess. If you feel yourself moving towards a negative emotional extreme, try looking to other people for fresh perspectives

SELF CONTROL

Reserved

You may feel a bit conflicted when you’ve been wronged. On the one hand it can affect you deeply to the point of feeling victimized, but on the other you can be scared of saying something about it for fear of upsetting other people. The result is that your anger might be directed inwards, which is very unhealthy. You can’t always be the nice guy.

SOCIABILITY

Humble

People with this characteristic tend to be modest and self-effacing – sometimes in the extreme. They enjoy their privacy and their own company, but are also sympathetic to the needs of others. In fact, sometimes they can be too trusting of people, which can lead to them being taken advantage of. If you recognize this trait in yourself, it’s important to have someone you’re sure you can trust looking out for you.

ATTITUDE

Progressive

People with progressive attitudes tend to have a great deal of faith in human nature and believe in education, co-operation and free thinking as ways to help develop society. They are willing to try new ideas and solutions and take a thoughtful approach to issues like social problems. It sounds like you tend to be seen as the voice of reason in most situations.

RESILIENCE

Sensitive

Sensitive people are extremely aware of potential dangers and problems around them – perhaps a little too aware sometimes. In fact, they tend to purposefully imagine worst-case scenarios. If you recognize this trait in yourself, rather than let yourself be overcome by fear use these theoretical situations to stimulate yourself to come up with imaginative solutions.

Thank you for taking the time out to read my entry.  My goal is to post more as I travel the path of self-discovery.