Virtually real- Virtuellement vraie

Micheline Harvey: Virtual Assistant, real person/Adjointe Virtuelle, mais tout à fait vraie

Je suis vraie – I’m real March 15, 2017

bereal

Je suis vraie

Je suis vraie, je ne sais pas être autre chose. Je ne connais pas bien les règles du jeu. Vous savez, ce jeu où il ne faut surtout pas montrer à quelqu’un qu’il nous plaît, où il faut demeurer distante, mystérieuse, évasive et floue? Ce jeu où il ne faut surtout pas rappeler le mec ou le texter trop souvent, car cela voudrait dire que je suis trop disponible, trop enthousiaste, trop facile?

Je ne suis pas facile. Mais si je m’intéresse à toi, et que j’ai décidé de te le montrer, tu as de la chance. Je ne m’ouvre pas à n’importe qui, et peu d’hommes peuvent capter mon attention, m’intriguer, et garder cette attention. Alors, si tu m’intéresse, je vais te le faire savoir. Je vais soutenir ton regard, je vais te sourire beaucoup, je vais te parler, t’écrire et te montrer qui je suis, incluant mes pensées bizarres, mon sens de l’humour un peu douteux, mes passe-temps étranges, tout!

Si tout cela te plaît, alors dis-le moi. Parle-moi, dis-moi comment tu te sens, sois présent, écoute-moi, appelle-moi, laisse-moi t’écouter, serre-moi fort, fais-moi rire, ne m’oblige pas à me demander ce que tu penses, ne me laisse pas me soucier de mes réactions ou des tiennes, ne me laisse pas me faire du mauvais sang et stresser sur le foutu jeu. Sois vrai. Si tu m’as charmée, tout ce que je veux c’est que tu sois vrai, aussi.

On ne sait jamais ce qui va arriver, court terme, temps partiel, long terme ou juste l’histoire d’un bel été? Mais pourquoi s’en soucier quand on n’a rien d’autre de certain que le moment présent?

On perd tellement de temps avec ce jeu. Et pourquoi? La vie est courte… comme ils disent! Il faut déguster la bonne nourriture, boire le bon vin, danser si on en a envie, montrer nos sentiments, prendre des risques, même si la situation semble compliquée ou sans espoir. Une véritable connexion est une chose beaucoup trop précieuse et rare pour la laisser passer!

***

I’m real

I’m real, it’s the only way I know how to be. I can’t play the game. You know, that game where you’re not supposed to show someone that you like them, where you’re supposed to remain aloof, mysterious, coy, and unclear? That game where you are not to call him back or message him too often, because that means you’re too available, too eager, too easy?

I’m not easy. But if I like you, and I’ve decided to show you how I feel, you are lucky. I don’t open myself to just anyone, and not just any man can catch my eye, intrigue me, and keep my attention. So, if I like you, I’ll let you know. I’ll hold your gaze, I’ll smile at you, I’ll talk to you, I’ll write to you, and I’ll let you see who I am, strange thoughts, quirky sense of humour, crazy hobbies, everything!

If you like all of that, then let me know. Talk to me, tell me how you feel, show up, listen to me, call me, let me listen to you, hug me hard, make me laugh, don’t let me wonder what you’re thinking, don’t leave me to worry about my reactions or yours, to wonder and stress about the game. Be real. If I fell for you, all I want is for you to be real, too.

We don’t know what it will lead to, short term, part time, long term or just a fun summer? But why worry about that when all we have is right now?

We waste so much time on this game. And for what? Life is short, as they say. Eat the delicious food, drink the wine, dance if you feel like it, express how you feel, take a chance, even if the situation seems hopeless or complicated. A true connection is a terrible thing to waste!

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In between June 18, 2013

CaptureMEH

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always felt like I was in between. Not fat, not skinny, not even thin, just something in between. Chubby from some angles, athletic or muscular from other angles, or just a little too soft to be considered thin. You see, I’m only 5 feet 2, and believe me, you don’t have to eat much at all to fill this up.

This in between state has never been comfortable for me.

When I was a little girl, I remember standing on the playground with the sun at my back, casting a slightly elongated shadow in front of me. I’d twist my legs together to make it look like my tall, thin shadow was wearing a mermaid gown and I’d toss my hair behind my shoulders so that my shadow would look like she had straight, thick, long hair like Cher. In reality, even my hair was very so-so. It was thin, poker straight, baby fine and ended up full of split ends when it hit my shoulders.

In the mirror, the image I saw has always been okay, but not quite beautiful. Not interestingly ugly either. Just in between. Why couldn’t I at least be interestingly ugly?

Oh how I longed to look like Brooke Shields when I was a teenager, with those gorgeous eyes, tall thin build and those fabulous eyebrows. I tried to mimic her “nothing comes between me and my Calvins”, but I ended up looking like a sausage stuffed into the jeans, that were always just a bit too long and that I had to roll up. Rolled up jeans are not sexy.

Sometimes I wished for a prominent nose, skin that would tan deep and dark, because my skin tans, but only very gradually and you can’t tell unless you see the actual tan lines, so that too is sort of so-so and in between. Besides, I don’t go out in the sun much anymore.

It was as if someone tried their best to erase me, to make me nondescript, but didn’t quite succeed, condemning me to the in between, forever.

Two years ago, I tried a fad diet and lost 17 pounds. I felt fantastic. My collarbones stuck out, my clothes were loose, I actually felt confident in skinny jeans. I even kept the weight off for over a year. But then I started eating real food again, the pounds crept back on, and now I’m back to… in between.
In my defense, I work out, I do cardio, I eat well, I have pretty good muscle tone. I think the goal is being healthy.

You’d think that being exquisitely beautiful or very large would be exhausting. To tell you the truth, I think being in between is worse.