Wednesday, May 14, 2008

This Post Confused Me and I Wrote It.

When you only have voice conversations with someone, you can often hear subtle changes in their voice and instantly know when something is wrong or when something has changed. I wasn't surprised that my mother recently made a comment that I sounded "different." Afterall - she IS my mother. She's always known when something wasn't right in my world without me saying a word. But what I hadn't expected is when she told me she thought I had become "harder" since I've been running the rescue.

I've been mulling this conversation over for days. Have I become "harder" and "thick skinned"?

Once I became more educated about the plight of homeless cats and what really happens in shelters, I became more vulnerable. I don't like being vulnerable. Vulnerable means I'm going to get hurt. Vulnerable is how you are when you tell someone "I love you" and hope and pray they say it back. Vulnerable is everytime I walk into shelter and know there will be a cat that touches my heart but I won't have the volunteers, resources or space to take him and he'll die. My emotional wall comes up and I have to protect myself. It hurts too much.

I told myself when I took over the rescue 4 years ago that I wouldn't lose sight of the mission. I wouldn't become one of THOSE "jaded shelter/rescue workers". But it was only last year that I started using the phrase, "We can't save them all". Was there a day that I REALLY thought I could save them all?

On the other hand, vulnerable also means *passion*. When I'm vulnerable, I do have passion. When I'm vulnerable I have the fire under my butt and feel like everything I say is the RIGHT thing to say. --"Even if you don't like what I'm going to say, you're going to hear it anyway!"-- When I'm vulnerable I feel like I'm moving in the right direction, making a difference, my soul is being fed.

This is a really hard blog post to write. It's almost TOO personal. It's easier writing about cat poop. I keep typing stuff and hitting the backspace button. As Dr. Phil says, "It's time to get real". But I'm not sure if I'm ready to do it. (Did I really just quote Dr. Phil?)

I saw a picture of a cat at the shelter - his name is Logan and he's neutered and declawed. I bet somebody loved him at some point. He looks so sad and abandoned. I need to be vulnerable to help him. I have to beg people to take him at the risk of being turned down.

I don't think I've become "harder". I think I've become wiser and more confident. I just wish I could stop getting hurt . But if I stopped getting hurt, I would get "tougher" and lose the passion.

(**lightbulb over the head**) I think I get it now.

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