Today’s prompt teases me at the top of the page:
Something you love about yourself.
It makes me wonder how we define self-love these days. Is it the Me Me Me culture of social networking, where you fill photo albums with self-portraits and proclaim your awesomeness via status updates? Is it in the way we carry ourselves and perform everyday tasks? Is it the decisions we make about our lives? Or some combination of all these things?
My quest for self-awareness and acceptance led me to take a Myers-Briggs Personality Test over the weekend. I scored as an Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving (INFP). Much like the astrological chart reading I received earlier this summer, the test revealed that I’m a sensitive, emotionally intense thinker. I’m always in my head and because I’m so hard on myself, I internalize criticism in a way that can easily lead to self-loathing.
But those were the things I already knew. Let’s get down to what I learned.
I posted earlier today that I wasn’t going to post today.
And then I changed my mind.
The Universe soooo has my back right now and I love it.
Anywhoo, since Thursday of last week, I’ve spent a lot of time in my head. Yes, I’m a thinker, which means I spend about 85% of my time running around the maze that sits on my shoulders, but this thinking has actually been productive. I’d been working on my “Things That Make Me Happy” list for about a month and while it’s helped me to keep a generally positive outlook, it hasn’t done much to help me figure myself out.
The cocky bitch that I used to be is no more.
That was a painful sentence to write. I’m literally staring at it right now and wondering “Am I sure about this? Do I really want to lay that part of me to rest for good?” I still don’t have a concrete answer. But all evidence is pointing to yes. It may be time to set her aside.
Just a girl with a writing habit, using a blog to share my stories and passions. These are the tales, interests, and observations of the quiet nerd in the corner of the bookstore; the professional woman strutting down the street in slacks clutching her Blackberry; the dork in bed by 9pm on a Saturday night; and the B-girl in the middle of the dance floor getting down in her sensible shoes. Welcome to the world of The Skinny Black Girl.
