Dilemma Solved

After weighing out the options and criteria I proposed in my previous post (The Dilemma(s)), I have come to the conclusion on what I would like my future to look like. Yes, I will always have a desire to change the world, but I'm going to have to find more subtle ways to do it. My desire to be a stay-at-home-Mom, and possibly a writer outweigh my desire to be a legislator.

In order to begin strolling down this particular path I need to decide how my writing will be displayed. I had a thought the other day - maybe I could start my own "newspaper" or "magazine." I would entitle this project "Liberty, and Justice for All" and it would be largely a political read. Columns would be written by anyone and everyone that submits a worthy article. The columns I would claim for myself would be based mostly on the need for Common Sense, Unbiased Education, and Proper Parenting (all defined by my own opinions). I would encourage others to write about whatever they wish to - as long as it's not inappropriate in any way, shape or form.

The other day I decided to write a children's story - a bit far off my normal writing path - but fun nonetheless. I enjoyed writing it and would like to see it published some day... hmm, a means for dinero? Maybe I shouldn't limit myself to any single type of writing. An open book is easier to fill than a closed one, verdad?

Posiblamente, escribiré en español también.... eh. Jaja.

But seriously, I could do whatever I want, I could write whatever I want, and say whatever I want if I don't claim a single style for myself - so why not?

Regardless of the type of writing I choose to do, the dilemma(s) have been solved.

The Dilemma(s)

        So, I've hit a road block with my plans for the future. You see, in the simplest of terms, I want to change the world. I want my voice to be heard across the nation. I want to instill common sense, manners, appreciation, and the other basics of a good person into our youth. I've always felt that if you feel something isn't being done right, do it yourself. In my opinion, our government is not being run properly - so naturally, I want to fix it. The lack of morals and ethics that our political leaders contain is beyond my comprehension and I refuse for our country to continue on this path. Here arises the dilemma.
        I want to be a legislator - without being a politician. My desire to join the political world is based on the fact that I simply feel we are being bombarded with laws and rules that prevent us from thinking for ourselves. I want to be a lawmaker so I can rid the laws I deem frivolous, correct the laws that need fine tuning, and put forth brand new laws that protect our rights. Sounds peachy, doesn't it? Unfortunately, this day in age, politicians have no capability of avoiding our media. As a female libertarian I would be a likely target for the media. Although I am no Sarah Palin, I fear that they might tear me apart just like her: rummaging through my life to find the mistakes I couldn't hide, trashing my children publicly, treating me like a demon to society. I would never want to put my family through that just so I can live out my world changing dreams.
        Speaking of family, my whole life I've wanted to be nothing more than a Mom: a housewife. As long as I've been around I have watched my mother juggle her motherly duties, her wifely duties, and run the books to our family business all without sacrificing any of the three. It was always so impressive to see the way she made time for all of her work and still had time to herself - something most people have a hard time pulling off. Because of her, I've always wanted to follow in her footsteps. Having said that, I fear my voice won't be heard enough on my trips to the market, the bank, and the post office; I will still be needing an outlet for my thoughts.
       I need an outlet for my thoughts. Being a legislator allows my voice to be heard often and with power. Being a housewife allows my voice to be heard by my children, my husband, and the few friends that are willing to listen. What's next? Where is the happy medium?
    
Dear Goldilocks:
          How the hell do I solve this dilemma?

Sincerely,
The Guru of Nothingness


      No, but really. It has been suggested to me time and time again that I consider writing as an outlet for my thoughts; do you think I'd have this blog if I hadn't already thought of that? Oh, you mean writing professionally - okay, I could work with that.
        Freelance writer, columnist, journalist - all options for thought out letting. Now the real question comes in to play - is this my happy medium? Being a writer would allow me to work from home - housewife problem solved. Being a writer would allow my voice to be heard at different volumes, depending on the media source. I could write a political column in a widespread newspaper that shares my plans for a changing nation to those that are searching for answers. I could write a freelance, common sense, opinionated column in a local newspaper that speaks softly but with power to those that need it most. Voice heard.
        Okay, number one dilemma (potentially) solved. However, a new dilemma has risen to the surface; can writing have the same effect on a nation that being a legislator would? In other words, my voice may be heard by many - but is that enough to bring forth the wave of change that I am seeking? Will people listen to my writing the way they listened to the news William Randolph Hearst published? Will my writing speak in the volumes necessary to reach every man and every woman?
        Can I change this world one article at a time?

        I don't know. That is why I have come to you, people of Blogger, friends of Facebook, buddies of AIM. This is not a question I can answer on my own - I need your feedback. Please, contact me in any way, shape, or form with your thoughts on my dilemma. Any feedback will be greatly appreciated.

Thanks,
The Guru of Nothingness

Acquaintances

Recently it became apparent to me that I have more acquaintances than I do friends. Honestly, I do not feel that it is because I’m not a friendly person, or because people don’t like me – although I haven’t ruled either of those out – but because I’m afraid to let people get too close to me. I hear the “let your walls down” cliché all too often, but it rings true. Constantly I judge people based on how they look, or the first characteristics they show me, but I don’t give them the second chances they deserve. I shut people out much too quick for fear of being hurt in the end.

Everyone has their story of childhood pain – whether it be the pain of growing up, a broken home, or love gone wrong – and mine is just another one of those. People weren’t always nice to me as I was growing up, hell, they were just down right cruel sometimes. But of course, it has made me who I am today and I’m just fine with that. Although, I often wish I could have become this person without the hurt that I had to endure – couldn’t I have made it this far with even just a little less heartache?

Too many times as a kid was I made fun of, called names, and pushed around. I wasn’t the kind of kid that took crap from anyone though, so when I was pushed, I pushed back – but that didn’t make the words and actions hurt any less. Too many times in my life have people walked all over me because I gave them too many chances. Too many times have I been hurt by the people I cared more about than they could ever understand.

            I got close to people. I let them in. I gave them every bit of trust, confidence, and loyalty that I had. They took it all and returned nothing. If you picked on me, I picked back. If you pushed me, I pushed back. If you walked all over me, I broke down.

            My friends would come to me for help and I would drop everything I was doing to help them. When I needed something, the only ones to be found were my family. At the time I didn’t realize how important of a sign this was, but years later I wish I hadn’t been so naïve. I gave everything I had to my “best friends;” my patience, my wisdom, my time, my heart, my love. They took every bit, used it to their liking, and when they took all they could from me, they were very quick to hurt me and move on. I had thought at the time that friends were the family God forgot to give us – boy was I wrong. These kids meant the world to me; I would do anything and everything to make their day just a little brighter. They didn’t understand that when I called them my best of friends, I meant every word. More often than not I had hoped each and every one of them would be attending my wedding – if not part of it. I wholeheartedly believed that they were going to remain an enormous part of my life till the day I die. Truthfully, I was right. The times I’ve spent with them, the times they’ve hurt me, and the time I’ve spent without them has all made me who I am today. Too bad it had to hurt this bad.

            Their cruelty has left me afraid. Since them, I dislike calling anyone my “best friend” – and for the first time in six years I finally referred to people by that term. Moments after letting the words into the world I found myself filled with incredible regret. Quickly, I backed away from those friendships. There’s no way in hell I’ll let myself hurt like that again. I refuse to be walked all over… again. I will not be the same naïve kid I was six years ago.

            I have more acquaintances than I do friends, and the more “friends” that enter my life, the higher my walls build. Lately, I’ve let people in more than usual and it has me filled with fear. As the wall slowly breaks down, I quickly build it back up. For every brick they take down, I rebuild three. I am afraid. I have no desire to relive the friendships I once had. I’ve dealt with enough failing friendships and merciless taunting in my short life, and believe me, there is more to come.