This is me here, a whole bunch of little balloons, in a chest. Each balloon says something about me. They are my traits and my talents. Some are big, some are small, and they are all a different color. Some are “good” according to others, and some are “bad”.
I have had these little balloons all my life, and I am proud of most of them. I even made sure that these are a little bigger and more beautiful. I also show most of the balloons to other people, because I want to show who I am. After all, others do too.
And then there is this one little balloon. It took me a while to discover it. It wasn’t that big, and was at the very bottom of the box. It was a bit of an odd little balloon, both in shape and color. At one point I heard people talking about such a little balloon, and ouch, it wasn’t good things they were saying about it. As a result, I became a little embarrassed about it. Besides, I didn’t know anyone around me with such a balloon myself.
But the little balloon grew, pushing other balloons away in the chest. It pushed the chest open, but I pushed back. No one was allowed to know that I had such a little balloon.
Then one day I did take the little balloon out of the chest when I was home alone. Actually, I thought it was a beautiful little balloon. It made me smile. But the shame was there too, so I quickly put it back in the chest. Still no one was allowed to know that I had such a little balloon.
The years passed, and the little balloon continued to grow. There were more and more moments when I took the little balloon out of the chest. They were nice moments, but I only did it when I was alone. I often felt guilty for taking the little balloon out of the chest. However, by occasionally taking the balloon out of the chest, I could get it back in more easily. The pressure decreased.
But the little balloon still kept growing. It was becoming a problem, that big balloon. And then I read that there were other people with such a balloon. Their balloon was different from mine, but they were similar. I was not alone, which was nice to know. Very carefully I approached those people, and they became very nice encounters. They told me not to be ashamed of the balloon. On the contrary, be proud of it, they said, and show it!
I told about that balloon to people around me. Most of them responded very sweetly. They also knew that I couldn’t do anything about it, about that little balloon in my coffin, and didn’t think there was anything wrong with showing it. Some did react with concern. And my sweetheart also knows it’s not my fault, but she doesn’t like seeing that balloon so much.
It’s hard to hide the balloon in the chest. It takes effort to get it in there, and it takes effort to keep the chest closed. It demands energy. It makes me tired. Some say I might not be able to hold on, and actually I want to show that balloon to everyone. For me, that balloon is no longer a problem. I enjoy showing it.
Louise Loverix' musings 