meisner - day 4

not a comfortable day.

i blushed. and evidently it was the color of my vibrantly red shirt. that's a whole new level of blushing. thanks guys. it's all your fault. you provoked it, laid me bare. stripped me down for all to see.

not really. but it sure felt like it.

and as much as i could joke or nod or agree wryly, i find myself wrapped tightly, holding my self in and closing them out. keeping my layers secure. zippers up. laces tied. buttons fastened. generous nathania with so much freedom of expression and i just want to curl up in a fetal position and say damn you all for witnessing my shame. multiple times.

another student squirmed. a lot. perhaps they were even more uncomfortable. i hope i wasn't so restless in what i was feeling, but who knows. one of the observations was "you are resigned." and i was and wasn't at the same time. another student was so closed. a tightly clenched fist. fingertips like their heart completely turned in on itself. i have a softness for them both, even as i cringe. and why can't i extend that softness to myself?

hmm....what day is it? damn hormones. can't i just be on the other side of menopause? {she shakes her head.}

my two biggest insecurities: my height and my skin {you have a shiny forehead}. and really, i should qualify this to say that if i were suddenly 5' 6-9" tomorrow with alabaster skin, i would find some other thing to chanel my insecurities towards....my insecurity that is on a whole different dimension: my sexuality. we progressed to asking questions that the other repeats in order to distill responses. i was asked by a smug little punk: how old (or where) were you when you lost your virginity? and i had to repeat it, which i did after several moments of shiftingshrugginshirking and i think it was at least the second time i turned redredred in class. just on this day. not like i have a problem with the fact that i've had sex, or the story of that first time, or anything about it, but somehow, i was so exposed {all these men, watching me and judging, verdict: not in my favor}.

damn him. really. and not really. damn me. conflicted. yet again.

he said he would have asked anyone that question, but he knew what my response would be and he savored it and chose to stick with it despite the request for mercy in my eyes. i watched the enjoyment/playfulness/smugness in his eyes for what felt like an eternity of three or four seconds before he said it. the expected washed over me, and swept me away in my full body response and there was part of me that knew it could have been worse.

in the end, i know i don't really want to curtail the harder spaces, so there is part of me that is greatful sandpaper-to-my-heart sort of way. so, thanks, buddy? i really wish i would have gone with my impulse which was to retort with "why do you have to be a punk all the time?"

that is the lesson: should have gone with the impulse. the second time i checked it that night to the detriment of the work.

tomorrow is another day, and unfortunately, one where work still hates me.