The Mouse and The Peacock

Being a strong woman is a thing of beauty. I mean, when you are almost 40 and have a reputation for making things happen, when people come to you because they KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can handle it, that’s a compliment, right? Indeed, it is. I love being a rock for people, I love being independent. I love being counted on. I am ready and willing to make tough decisions and have difficult conversations. Why? Because they need to happen and dragging things out over time because of fear or anxiety, is back sliding. The powerhouse in me LOVES forward motion.

So, what’s so hard about being the HBIC? (That’s Head Bitch In Charge for all of you who aren’t in the know) I’ll tell ya, it’s a few things but for starters it’s this: Nobody asks if you’re ok. Nobody asks if you need help. Because they KNOW you’ve got it covered. You’re no wilting flower, you’ve got this! But do I? Always? I try to but, damn… sometimes it would be nice to be asked.

Another drawback is that since you’ve “got this” you’ve also got this, and that, and those and these and those over there as well. Since people know that you can, they assume that you will and they keep piling it on. What’s that old saying? “If you want something to get done, ask a busy person to do it”. That’s a true story and it’s what we do, as strong women, we just do it.

The third travesty, might be the one that bothers me the most. I call it, “The Mouse and the Peacock”. As a strong woman, I see myself as a peacock, proud, colorful and fierce. Why do I find myself constantly feeling judged and berated by mice? I realize that it comes off as cocky (pun intended) but I don’t mean it that way. If I am proud and colorful, I will naturally draw attention to myself. Should I be sorry for that? If I do something fantastic, I want the whole damn world to know. Why is that a bad thing? The flip side is that since I’m drawing attention to myself, I am responsible for making sure my shit is game tight. Because if they notice the good, they sure as shit, will notice the bad. It’s the risk I take as a peacock. A mouse scurries under the radar making sure they go unnoticed. In many ways, I can see how much easier that would be, but where’s the reward in that? No reward… is that what the mouse wants? Notoriety? Maybe, but I’m unsure since I don’t have the foggiest as to what it’s like to be a mouse. So, guess what mice, don’t worry about what the peacocks in your life are doing unless you’d like to follow suit. Chances are they are doing their job and some of yours and still have time to blog and create and have full and wonderful lives. I will not apologize to a mouse for being a peacock.

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