Resistance.

I often feel resistant to what I love. As a young child, I was fully devoted and connected to my obsessions: musical theatre, acting, American Girl stories and accessories, Babysitters Club books, and my favorite movies such as Anne of Green Gables. I played with my antiques, dressing up and packing my little red trunk with antique school books, slate pencils, and more for my imaginary train journey. I had no shame. I subjected my friends to wild play pans, long sessions of listening to showtunes, and dressing up with varying degrees of historical accuracy. I wept in the backseat of the car while listening to Sunset Boulevard with headphones.

At some point, I either became a little embarrassed (this was around the time we moved from Nashville to Charlotte) about my obsessions, I got distracted (Irish Step dancing, a few crushes), or (most likely) I didn't feel capable of managing the way I felt. I side-stepped what had enchanted me most. My response was too intense--at least, I thought it would be.

Now, I have three different recordings of Phantom on my iPod. My main Spotify playlist is full of showtunes. I'm re-reading American Girl stories. I've been looking for movies and TV shows that engage me deeply. I'm trying not to hold a shield up against what could help me live more fully. I can handle it.