People might be surprised to learn I would not describe myself as ‘a happy person.’ I am a surviving person. For years I battled the results of a traumatic childhood, then a traumatic relationship and other trauma-laced events plagued my life. In spite of it all, I pushed through barriers from self and others to achieve my goals and dreams. I wanted so badly to be a writer when I was a kid. One neighbor man said to me once, “you’ll never be good at it and you’ll never make any money, kid.” He was wrong. I went on to be a published author and a selling artist. Today, I write scripts for my Hypnosis practice and am successful there, as well. But happy… well, no. Not happy. Surviving.
From the outside and from the keyboard, my cheerful persona rises above all that aches inside me. Even on my worst days I try to find the rainbow through the clouds. This is how I survived 100% of my days, thus far. Choosing to put on the happy face ESPECIALLY when I feel like sulking. I choose to portray happiness, especially on days when I have trouble feeling it.
One day, I will be on a stage telling the details of this story called my life. People will be amazed at how I survived, let alone still smile. Hell, I am amazed.
I am not perfect, by any means. I work to right wrongs whenever possible or warranted, largely because I never, ever want to intentionally make a person feel as I grew up feeling.
Some of my past is foggy, at best. So there are days I am uncertain if something I recall happened the way I perceive it. Largely because my subconscious, I believe, is still trying to protect me from the horrors I faced. Because the stuff I do recall in vivid detail which I know to be true, are horrific. Still, I survive, so I smile.
Smile. It might not be the face of happiness you are portraying. Perhaps it’s the face of survival.