I’m pretty certain I have some form of OCD. I get stressed out about menial things. I’m allergic to stupid things. Some days I look in the mirror and think that everything that I am amounts to something that is, at best, nothing special, and, at worst something worthless. Then, some days, I look into the mirror and think that I could take the world by storm. Sometimes, I’m lonely, but even then I maintain my natural tendency of pushing everyone away from me. So I am always immeasurably baffled and wary when I find out that someone loves me. And I’m sorry that I am slow to trust them, because they mean so much to me. And I thank them from the bottom of my heart for caring.
But more importantly, there is this: You are loved too. Believe me, you are, because if someone can love me, despite all of my faults, than someone can love you, despite yours. This world has become twisted in so many ways, and so many people seem like they are too. And sometimes it’s hard to see your own worth amidst it all. But it’s there, and if you ever doubt that, just remember that someone out there in this fucked up world loves you. Whether or not you love yourself that day or the next, someone loves you.
Over a month ago, I lost the canister of pepper spray I take with me every where I go. Yesterday, I replaced it using a company that generally works with my University. The man who ran the company arranged to meet with me to drop off my order; the town around my college is small enough that a standard delivery service just makes so much more sense than dealing with the general headache of the post office.
We arranged to meet in broad daylight, in the middle of my campus, and I was scared.
He ended up being wonderfully nice, and even pantomimed a quick demonstration of how best to use my new bottle of pepper spray. The thing is, I hadn’t realized how dependent I was on pepper spray until then. I walked into that public meeting fretting over how I would likely be blamed if I were to somehow be kidnapped. Not alone that, but I was worried about being attacked by someone who built up a business aimed at making sure people are safe.
When I walked away from him and his wife I felt a sense of completeness, and that was truly the scariest thing of all. I realized then how vulnerable and afraid of the world I had felt without that little instrument of defense. And, I knew that I’d been conditioned to feel that way. I left wondering at what sort of world we lived in today that could lead a woman to not only feel like she is missing an integral part of herself is she isn’t equipped with half and ounce of pepper spray, but could also encourage her to feel as such.