DeeDee Scalzetti
Bio
Writing about my life is the only way I know how to make sense of living it. Sometimes I do some questionable shit. But it makes for great stories.
Stories (4)
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Resistance to Release
There is a resistance inside of me. I've felt it as long as I can remember. It must have been there since before I was born and I can't help but feel I've carried it with me through many lifetimes. It's nothing I can put my finger on, just an undercurrent, a theme in my life, that manifests itself in different ways. I'm always ready to oppose, to defend, embodying the raccoon-like energy of, "cute but will fight,” whether that kind of enthusiasm is warranted or not. Resistance is good when it comes to certain things, of course. Like when I know someone is trying to take advantage of me or when it's time to protest injustice in the streets. But it becomes harmful when I use my own resistance against myself. When I unconsciously resist my own growth, sabotaging my personal evolution. Yet it's not always easy to recognize when this shift in the dynamic of resistance has taken place. Because people can rationalize anything. And I for one am damn good at rationalizing the hell out of things I am not yet ready to face.
By DeeDee Scalzetti4 years ago in Motivation
The Millennial Urge to Quit A Job That Was Killing My Soul.
I was always supposed to quit my job. Years before phrases like "The Great Resignation" were common household rhetoric, I was saving money and choosing locations and setting dates like I was planning my wedding. My family was unfazed by this behavior, though not entirely unconcerned. I had quit jobs in the past, which was why this was nothing new. But now I was planning on leaving a "good career.” The kind that comes with "benefits" and "retirement security" and "money no one walks away from". Which is where the cause for concern at my itchy feet was taking center stage.
By DeeDee Scalzetti4 years ago in Humans
Just Give Me A Moment
Today, I stuttered openly at my work while I was in court presenting a case. It was for a couple of moments at most, but it felt like it lasted forever. A few people around exchanged glances and then looked back at me in a way I interpreted as, "What's wrong with her?" like I was incompetent or stupid. Even though I've become used to this kind of reaction after dealing with stuttering for the past 20 years of my life, I still felt incompetent and stupid for the rest of the time I was at the bench on that case. And even though I was well aware that I was the only person in the courtroom who knew every last detail the judge might need to know, I still couldn't shake the thought that constantly crept into my consciousness at times like these - what did it matter? I could have all the answers to all the questions in the entire world, but if I couldn't say them articulately, with poise and precision, then who would want to even listen to me at all?
By DeeDee Scalzetti4 years ago in Motivation
