A Woman’s Heart vs Mind
A Woman
The voices in her head screamed, do this do that.
It screamed you’re not perfect, not beautiful, not right.
It chided why did you cry, get angry, lost control?
And her inner child went frustrated, lost, confused and quiet.
It was plenty of effort, effort to stay sane.
It was plenty of energy, to wear this skin of grace every day.
Her Heart
She wants to do better, she genuinely tries. So she read books, and she meditates. She “self-love”. They say, be yourself. Now, what’s “myself” she wonders? Is not being herself meant all of it? The joy, the rage, the laughter, and her tears, the sweetness and the bitterness. That’s herself. Not one part less. She looks around, searching and saw no one who wears their heart on their sleeves. She looks at her big, bold heart, intense and furious. And she’s embarrassed by it. She tries to hide it, and it was so much an effort.
Her mind interrupts, “Yes, hide it! Don’t be emotional. Don’t behave like a kid, stay normal, don’t be crazy or so they will notice.” The mind says, “If you want to be accepted and loved, don’t be seen. Hide it, keep it, be strong.”
Her heart gets furious! “What do you mean to hide it? I am a part of you!”
And so her heart lashes and pumps even stronger. Her energy rises, and in seconds, a current of tears came to her eyes, crashing down as huge waves. Her heart wants to be free.
Now she’s confused. Sobbing uncontrollably she asks, “Oh, heart, what do I do with you?”
Now everyone knows.
My Mind
My mind my mind my mind.
My mind, I am tired of you. The thoughts that came into my head, why don’t you stop?
I tried to grasp you, and you keep escaping. These thoughts like ghost figures, they come they go.
It slips off, and I’m never getting hold.
My mind my mind my mind.
The things you tell me, I’m not sure to listen which of it.
You tell me that I am losing it, I am crazy.
You said to regulate my emotions, to be strong.
You said not to dwell on stuff, to think positive thoughts and yet you keep sliding these thoughts in me.
My mind you are such a battle.
I don’t get it if I am myself, why do I have to take the effort to be someone that I’m not?
You read this articles of someone else, and you idealise a figure of me.
And you want me to be not me. Like a fool, I followed.
Now tell me, where are you leading me?
My mind my mind my mind, it’s not me.
Sometimes I feel that you’re leading me further away from me.
My Heart
It’s a wave, it’s a storm.
It’s coming, and I felt it strong.
It wants to destroy, it wants to tear.
It wants to scream, it wants to pour.
It’s raging, it’s angry.
It’s furious it’s losing its form.
The Story Behind
Above is a little depiction that I write to allow the battle between my heart and mind come into form. I meant to give a concrete structure to my emotions and thoughts. There are times I can’t tell from which is which. As you can tell even from the way that I have written, there comes a moment of confusion within me that I described my perception of myself and my heart as a third person. I have left my writing the way it is albeit confusing for a reader. This was done so intentionally because I believe that a subconscious part of me is trying to convey a message to myself.
I guess we are all to varying degrees of both logical (mind) and emotional (heart). The logical ones are afraid to lose emotional control, and the emotional ones dislike being logically controlled. I am both highly sensitive and rational, with perhaps a tendency to be more emotional. These splits are part of this whole. The whole of me is a split, and that’s how I like to be. It is a perplexing part of me I am learning to comprehend and be at peace with.
In a relationship, this gets tricky. The people whom I went out with seem to like one of my splits more. If someone is logical, it’s easier for them to communicate with the logical division. If they’re emotional, then evidently they feel more comfortable to connect to my emotional split. Too much of one or the other is unhealthy since I am both. Although secretly, there have been occasions where I am envious of people who have a broader tendency to be logical and very rarely do I appreciate how vulnerable my heart is. I will say in society today, people will relate better to logical forms of thinking because it is the part that makes sense, decisions and functions. It is the get down to business, no-nonsense and less drama way of life. I see us as a society that has suppressed emotions when even a proper release of emotions have to first be considered “healthy”. A healthy version depends on the appropriate environment, trust and societal requirements, to name a few before we feel capable to freely express our emotions. Apparently, we are not allowed to bawl out in a business meeting or to scream in public areas etc. While I can logically see how and why this is necessary, I like to challenge this notion of why?
Why does it have to be this way just because it has always been this way? Why can’t there be a “healthy” restraint on logical thinkers on insisting in a way of doing things just because they happen to be the people who are less capable of being in touch with their emotions? Why are we encouraged to be less in touch with our emotions more often than the other way round?
Recently, I have been getting into disagreements with my partner, and I’ve become a lot more emotional and may have seemed to lose my sense of logic. When he commented that he prefers me more when I’m logical, it’s a statement I find it unsettling. He further justified that it is ok since we all have a preference. It’s a question I ask myself. Can I love someone based on preference or as a whole?
I’m sure there isn’t a wrong or right way of thinking since we are all entitled to our own thoughts, likes or dislikes.
Well, see, logically I can understand it whereas emotionally, I can’t.
Perhaps it’s the notion of being reminded that there is a part of me that is more lovable than another. It is a choice of this or that split. So if preference can be in place, mine would be that I will like to be loved wholly, good and bad, without a favourite.
