Pretty fragmented
It struck me today that I don't like the way I move most of the time. It feels artless, restrained, and all about getting from point A to point B efficiently. To me, it feels lacking in style and grace, much less personality. Later in the evening, I caught myself focusing on how characters I like in TV shows move, and how it seems an extension of personality. That left me feeling that if my movement style reflects my personality, I'm in bad shape, or that I hide my personality in my body movements. In either case, I'm not happy with that being so.
I think I communicate poorly. At least, with too many important people, about too many important things, I think I communicate poorly. Something invariably gets twisted in the flow from intent to implementation to reception. Unfortunately, I only have limited control on two of those areas, so I tend to assume it's my fault, because effectively, it may as well be.
Dinner with my family (extended, post divorce and remarraige, nuclear) last night: as usual, it leaves me wondering how on earth I came from that environment, and ended up so different. They're a pretty shallow, unreflective lot who seem to take great comfort in imposing and reinforcing sexism. It seems particularly bad now that my stepbrother is a teenager, as if they're raising the frequency in an unconscious attempt to make sure he gets the 'correct' messages. At least three times, I went far enough to feel like I was being rude, calling overt (and not just by my standards) attention to this sexism, to no avail. It was weird; I know they heard me, but everyone just pretended it didn't happen. Either that, or maybe they just couldn't comprehend what I was saying.
I think I communicate poorly. At least, with too many important people, about too many important things, I think I communicate poorly. Something invariably gets twisted in the flow from intent to implementation to reception. Unfortunately, I only have limited control on two of those areas, so I tend to assume it's my fault, because effectively, it may as well be.
Dinner with my family (extended, post divorce and remarraige, nuclear) last night: as usual, it leaves me wondering how on earth I came from that environment, and ended up so different. They're a pretty shallow, unreflective lot who seem to take great comfort in imposing and reinforcing sexism. It seems particularly bad now that my stepbrother is a teenager, as if they're raising the frequency in an unconscious attempt to make sure he gets the 'correct' messages. At least three times, I went far enough to feel like I was being rude, calling overt (and not just by my standards) attention to this sexism, to no avail. It was weird; I know they heard me, but everyone just pretended it didn't happen. Either that, or maybe they just couldn't comprehend what I was saying.