Most of my adult life, I have wanted to be rescued and taken care of. Whether it is being physically ill, and wanting someone who will make soup for me; getting into a jam and having someone bail me out; or a host of other scenarios, I always wanted to be the damsel in distress. It could be due to my character trait of the Drama Queen, who loves to ride the wave of dramatic moments, and being rescued fit right in with that. It could be that I viewed myself as such a giver, a doer, a martyr of sorts, that it would be anyone’s greatest wish to take care of me and what I might need. It could be because on some level, deep down, I couldn’t easily believe in the love that others had for me, unless they proved it by taking care of me while I seemed helpless, although, I really wasn’t.

When I recall those types of scenarios, I don’t think that a more clear version of this story comes to mind, as when I was diagnosed with Shingles. I had left my partner of ten years; I had moved out of our home and into an apartment; and I was not in a relationship. I hadn’t been feeling so well, and the day after Christmas, my eye swelled shut. As soon as the eye doctor saw me, he knew what it was. Shingles. SHINGLES??????? ME????? I was in shock.

That wasn’t the worst of it for me, however. The diagnosis was scary, especially with it being on my eyelid. The pain was at times, excruciating. I was physically sick for several days. The worst part for me, however, was being alone. At first, my parents were with me, because they were in for a visit. And, my daughter was with me for part of it as well. However, for many of the days during my recovery, I was all alone. Alone in my sickness. Alone in my misery. Alone in my aloneness.

I wanted someone to take care of me.

I will never go to such a dark place in my life ever again. Why? I have discovered the superhero in my life.


Corny? Perhaps. However, I have walked around most of my adult life, under the very incorrect assumption that it took other people to rescue me, save me, guide me toward the light. I was SO wrong about that!

The superhero, now, forever and always, is me. I am the one I need to depend upon. I will always have others in my life who love me, inspire me, and will be there for me. However, none of them need to rescue me

I can always do that for myself.

I am my own Wonder Woman. YEAH!


6 thoughts on “Superhero

  1. Hi Vanessa,
    Many of your posts have touched a string in me that is painfully uptight.
    While I really believe everyone can and should rely on themselves in crucial moments, and all my life I’ve tried hard not to be dependent on others, I was shocked to read the words below because this is exactly what I feel now:
    “It could be because on some level, deep down, I couldn’t easily believe in the love that others had for me, unless they proved it by taking care of me while I seemed helpless, although, I really wasn’t.”
    I’ve tried to avoid situations where I will need others’ help, I’ve tried not to “disturb” anyone unless it is absolutely necessary. I think the result is my chronically feeling dissatisfied as I see myself as giving too much and getting too little in return. It is perhaps because I don’t have a strong enough belief in the superhero in me.
    Very best wishes to you

    1. Shiona: I am calling myself to a higher expectation; since writing as a career, and being able to make a living of it, is my dream, and my fondest mode of expression right now, I am challenging myself to post here every day. SO, keep coming back. I hope that the words, even when they pluck that uptight string, bring clarity and guidance to you. Much love!!! Vanessa

  2. Thank you, Vanessa.
    I’m glad you’ve made up your mind to post every day. I’m sure I will find a lot in your posts to think about.
    Good luck!

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