The outsider

As a child, I was very familiar with what being an outsider meant. I was painfully shy,and moved from place to place; time after time. Sometimes with no forewarning. I was not ever comfortable being the new girl in class. Those years, when a child’s character is shaped can prove to be enough of a struggle, even for a young girl with a sense of permanency or roots…with nothing to cling to but myself and siblings, I somehow found peace. I have always relied on my imagination, creativity, faith, and endless energy. No, I was never the popular one, there were always mean girls, (I kinda felt sorry for them after a moment or two of self pity). I was smart and caught on quickly, allowing my mind to wander and dance with the leaves swirling in the wind outside the school window. “Jessie, Jessie, Are you with us”? the teacher would inevitably have to bring me back. Oh, the places I would go, the scenes I would create. The beginning of so many dreams. A place to escape, to be me, to hope, dream, plan, a place where I belonged. I nurtured my spirit and soul this way most through out a tumultuous adolescence. As life passed, I realize now how my early formed and shaped who I am today, was it the easy road, definitely not. But, it was my road, and I embraced it. I could look back with sadness and longing for something else something more; I could look at my childhood as though I got the short end of the stick…but, then: I would not be me. I am stronger and wiser for it. I kinda like being me. I would never have experienced the joy the sadness, I would never have encountered so many different types of people, with so many ways of looking at life, some good, some not so good. The countless lives who have touched me and the countless lives whom I have touched. I feel blogging as an extension of this philosophy, if I can bring peace and beauty to one person; this to me is bliss.

Some pretty to enjoy:

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Be well,

22 thoughts on “The outsider

  1. i like the words you write…

    beyond the maddening crowds, we must discover ourselves, to give us strength to endure the surrounding disturbance of the faceless crowds that do not know themselves.

    such pretty, peaceful, and colorful photographs here


  2. Even the grape vines need to struggle to become strong. Pity the person who has an unchallenged childhood. When the rain comes – and it will – from what spring will they draw strength? Love this post Jess.


  3. I enjoyed very much reading the “Outsider” and can relate to a lot of what you have written. You have such a gift with the words you publish. I was blessed to have met you on your life journey.


    • Gary,

      I think alot of us can relate to not having the “perfect” childhood, don’t you? It’s what we do with our adulthood that matters. Self pity and complacency is of no value; so why bother. I hope you are well. Did you see the review of the IDVD at Take care.



  4. Gorgeous photos. I only had one major move in my childhood at age 8 (the only move I can really remember) and it completely turned my world upside down. I clung to my “Ramona Quimby, Age 8” book as I felt that Ramona was the only person who understood what I was going through — because she was going through it too. I have no doubt that it affected who I am today. You’re life is so beautiful now!


  5. Over and over my Dad told me when I was young (usually with consternation and wanting me to snap out of it) that I was “in my own little world.” I was. But it wasn’t a “little world.” He had that part wrong. We moved a lot growing up. We moved a lot when my kids were growing up. Recently, well a couple years ago, a spiritual teacher in California told me my writing would be a help to women and children. I hang onto that. I hope it does. Thank you for this heartfelt post. Lovely.


  6. Pingback: The Serendipity of Struggle | Writingfeemail's Blog

  7. I love your images. Thanks for sharing your peace and beauty with us.

    You know, I was an outsider too. But I lived in the same small community, went to school with the same kids for 12 years. I felt that I was plunked into a package in first grade and as long as I lived in that town and interacted with those kids, that package could not evolve or change. It was only when I left town for music or summer camp that the real “me” could emerge and how shocked I was to discover how easily I made friends in those new environments. It may have been because we were all new to each other, thus tried that much harder.

    I think it is hard being a kid whether you move around a lot or not.


    • You know, you may be right. It amazes me how expectations, where you are “expected” by those you sense as powerful…expectations of teachers, of peers, of parents, unknowingly, it seems; set boundaries for exploration of self ~ if even subconsciously as a child keeps you (children) where your are cast…”your package”.

      I never thought of it this way before; perhaps because I was never in one community long enough to be characterized! Thank you for your perspective and for visiting my blog.



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