Me and Magnetic George
Last weekend I spent about three hours talking on FaceTime with my emotional equal, my dear daddy. My dad George and I get very little sleep, fret about things and people that probably don't think as much about us as we do about them, and care far too much about the world around us, that within us, it can literally make us worried sick. We are two people who could spent countless hours caring, counseling, coaching and consoling with lots of laughter and joy in the mix. We are the magnetic emotionals.
The Extroverted Introvert
For years I considered myself an extrovert, until I realized I am at my happiest when I am alone. Growing up at least 1/2 of my life as an only child I learned to converse with myself, rationalize my behaviors, applaud my success, mourn my failures, and work out my pain without talking to anyone except me. On the outside, that blossom that became Tonya Taylor was flitting around, and attracted bees with honey. Over time, I realized one of the things that makes me that magnetic soul is my authentic unfiltered truth. It's riddled with imperfection, love, self-depredation, and passion for doing what is right with my life. That is why my honeycomb is always buzzing.
I need the silence more than the buzz, and that is where the introverted me seeks time away from the world that looks to me for so many things that I was never really prepared to provide.
Since I figured out I could convince people to do great things with their lives I have been a magnet for both good and undeserving people. Because I lean to what I believe is what is inherently good, I suffer, strain, cry and pain over things sometimes, and letting go of hope in something or someone you believe in is very hard. I, like my dear dad, always want to believe and have hope, so we tend to suffer more for the flaws and live through the disappointment of those who flock to our honeycomb.
Life as the Beekeeper
I'm not sure how many beekeepers get stung to death statistically, and won't bother to look it up, but I'm thinking it's far less than one would imagine. These are people that take the good bees with the bad, and armor themselves. While me and dear dad's layers of armor are much less evident, our introverted extroverted selves tend to retreat much more now, and value more time with those who we know make the best honey in their beehives, with love.