I am a fearsome creature.
You may respond: oh, no, you’re not fearsome! and you will
probably think you are reassuring me.
I am fearsome. I’m not unhappy about it. I am heartbroken
that you’re afraid of me.
(which makes me turn my eyes away before I have to see it)
You may respond: well, yes, sometimes you’re fearsome, but
you’re amazing in other ways! and you will probably think you are reassuring
me.
I am fearsome. I’m not ashamed. You value what I bring in my
contained smallness despite my inability to always hide my bigness. That is
love in part. Thank you for it.
You may respond: but I see how hard you try, you’re getting
better! and you will probably think you are reassuring me.
I’m not trying to fix it. All the time and energy I expend
mitigating my overwhelmingness is for your benefit. I find it distracting and
draining.
I would rather spin my glory with loud voice and
unmistakable force than get better at stepping daintily between the lines. I would
rather be wind fire magnetic power if I trusted you to handle me, massive me,
clumsy me, dark burning me, bright glowing me as I show up when I don’t protect
you from me.
You can stand rock-strong amidst my gusts. You can bask
lion-lazy in my shine. You can ride hawk-joyful on my roiling currents. I
can be rock and lion and hawk for your weather. We can dance with love when we trust each other’s strength. When we trust our own.