Luggage or Baggage?

It’s Thursday, which means later on tonight I will uploading a picture of my luggage for SPF.  SPF is all about taking a picture of your stuff (Stuff Portrait Friday) and just sharing your link with everyone so you can get to know your fellow bloggers.
I love when I assign a picture and people really take it to a whole other level.  It amazes me how people see things so differently.

This week’s assignment is Luggage and I can only imagine how people will take this one.  Suitcases, Diaper bags, children, an ex-husband…the options are unlimited.

You would think with everything from yesterday that my “Luggage” would be the stuff that I am carrying around from my past.
I’ve actually let all of that go.  Maybe it’s easier for me because I was younger than my brothers and sister when our life was less than ideal.  Maybe it was because I lived in a fantasy world where I was a princess that nothing bad could ever happen.  Everyone loved me enough to let me live in that world and I thrived there.  Everything was magical. My brothers were Princes that protected me and my sister was the most beautiful woman in all the land.
My dad was an ogre.  My mom was the carriage driver.  Anyone that came to the house was ignored unless they had a role in my world.
As I got older, my princess life changed into a world of stories.  I would write for hours and hours about people, their emotions, drama and happy endings.  I remember handing my dad one of my favorite stories and letting him read it.  He pointed out that I was changing the tense of the character.  My mother got mad at him and told me it was an awesome story.
I never wrote another story after that.  Even though my mom was supportive  of what I was trying to do, one single word from my dad about how he didn’t  like the story and my whole motivation was lost.

Yeah, sure…I’ve let it go huh?

I’ve gotten over worrying if my dad approves of what I accomplish anymore.  When I graduated from college I put together a whole book of my electronic tests, each with an A on the top of the pages.  This was my gift to him for having to put up with me as a child who wouldn’t even open a book during high school.
He flipped through the pages and said, “good.”
It might have been at that moment that I realized It didn’t matter.  I kept the book for myself as a reminder of what I accomplished.

I know that some of this stuff will come out during my meetings.  The guy will say that I do so much to gain people’s approval. I don’t set boundaries because I don’t want people to get mad at me or say bad things about me.
He will be right, because even though I don’t seek my father’s approval, I’ve transfered it to other people and the fear of guilt of not doing enough is my driving force to keep doing more.

So, now that I have that all figured out, what now?  try to not feel guilty for not doing enough?  How does one go about changing that?  How does one change the whole fiber of their being without becoming a self centered bitch?

Yeah, I think I will just post a picture of my luggage. It’s red. It holds lots of stuff. I’ve never used it.