Destiny Doesn’t Give A Damn

Hello people! I’m Destiny. You know… that naughty personality Shell tries to keep controlled. She spoke of me a few weeks ago in her post ‘Who Are The Survivors?‘ This is my chance to let my voice be heard.

I’m the carefree one. Shell’s right. I don’t give a damn. When I have to come to the surface there’s a reason. Shell’s logical side won’t let her take chances and risks. She’s overly cautious. Her self-confidence is lacking. But if there’s something she knows has to be done and she’s scared — that’s when I get called in.

I’m a type of “liquid courage” like people feel when they are drinking. Although she doesn’t need alcohol to find me. I’m a relief valve for her pent up emotions sometimes. When stress becomes too strong, when she needs someone who doesn’t give a damn, she either calls on me or Carla. (You’ll meet her in a later post). 

Stress is a heavy pressure and Shell doesn’t know how to deal with it well. No matter the cause of the stress, Shell tends to hold it inside and try to deal with it on her own. She isn’t good at asking for help. Her independent spirit doesn’t trust anyone else to help her. Of course there are things she just can’t deal with alone. When she is at the exploding point, well, here I come!

I’m sassy and naughty and not afraid to say or do anything. I’m the one who mouths off to the supervisor at work who doesn’t understand why Shell does some of the things she needs to do. In a male dominated world, there are things women need to take care of. Shell is too intimidated to defend herself. I’m not.

I’m the personality who waves at cars randomly when we are driving down the road. Or who just starts singing at the top of her lungs with the windows down when a great song comes on the radio. I’m fun and free and unfettered. I’m happy Shell.

But I have no boundaries. I don’t recognize figurative stop signs. My mouth keeps flowing when I should tone it back a bit. Sometimes I say things I should be slapped for. I’ve hurt people with some of the tactless things I’ve said.

I’m the one who parks the car crooked in a hurry taking up two parking spots and says, “Who gives a damn” and just goes on ahead and runs in to the store quickly. Shell would never do that. She would get back in and park straighter even if she was the only car in the lot.

I’m the impulsive one who buys the things Shell refuses to splurge on, even if it’s something that can make her life easier and better. She worries about bills. I don’t give a damn.

She wants to rein me in. And maybe I need to be toned down a little. But I think, in some way, I think Shell is jealous of my freedom. She wishes she could do the things I do.

Maybe in time she will.