Much of a Muchness

 Herself speaks.

The other day I had a weird little flashback to a birthday party I attended when I was in grade school. There had been outside activities, and the birthday girl's mom had invited all of us inside for cake and opening of the gifts. When we'd entered the living room, she pointed out some knickknack that she thought the party-goers would like to see. I remember plopping myself down on the couch next to the end table where the knickknack stood, so I could take a closer look; I did not reach out to touch the knickknack, but merely sat in the position nearest to it on the couch. The hostess promptly reached out to me, and repositioned me to sit farther back on the couch, away from the knickknack. 

It was... a moment. 

She was not overly aggressive, I don't think, nor did she verbally scold me. Nevertheless, she made it clear that my physical action, and my body, were too much and not where they belonged somehow. 

Perhaps I remember that moment because it was the earliest awakening of self-consciousness of my physical presence in front of other people. 

I was too much for her. I made her uncomfortable, for herself and the safety of her knickknack. I needed to sit back, make my movements less, make myself smaller. 

One of the many lessons I failed at, in being a dainty young girl. 

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Here I am, some fifty years later. Half a century of trying to stifle my natural inclination to be ebullient, enthusiastic. Making myself figuratively (and attempting, fruitlessly, to be literally) smaller.

And, similarly, decades of tamping down inherent feelings of kindness/friendliness, lest they be misinterpreted. We all know how it goes -- when a young woman is warm or affectionate, she must be promiscuous; when a middle-aged and overweight woman is warm or affectionate, she's pathetic/attention-seeking/disgusting. 

I have come to the conclusion that I am angry that Life has tried to squeeze my spirit into a tiny, acceptable box.  

Be small! Be quiet! Don't sit too close! Don't be too loud! Don't take up too much space! Don't be too nice! Don't be too kind! Don't love too much! 

On the other hand, though: there's safety in the box. 

One is less likely to get one's heart trampled if it's safely in the box instead of out there in the world, offering kindness to people who consume it without reciprocation. Or if one's heart is in the box instead of exuberantly enjoying a moment in way that causes Life to notice and to threaten to snatch back that molecule of happiness. 

Still.

All things considered: I would like to be Louder. To be More, not Less. To love harder, not restrainedly. 

Where do I begin?