rabbit hole

Myself as a Rabbit Hole and the Magic of the Underground

It’s time to slit my wrists a little, if only to prove that I, in fact, bleed rainbows.

Once upon a time, in late December of the great year 2019, I had a conversation with a friend. A great friend. One of the girlishly small handful of people that know just how far my rabbit hole goes.

The subject of the conversation was this blog. My friend’s reaction to it was simply, “You’re odd.”

Now, as seeing how this friend knows me quite well, he already knows that. This statement was not worth the breath that carried it. So naturally I went Sherlocking away.

Two words barely qualify for a reading between the lines, but together with the subject matter, there’s enough material to search for a hidden meaning. Why note that I’m odd when that’s a given variable? Obviously it has to do with this blog.

My hand reaches halfway down to my pocket for my imaginary monocle before the answer comes rushing through my head.

This friend knows me to be a creature of the underground. He knows about the thorny bushes and decoy personalities I use as diversion to cover up my rabbit hole of a personality.

He knows those things because a long time ago, when no one was allowed in, he followed that proverbial white rabbit. And fell in. Way in.

He fell in and came out on the other side, a side that holds a thousand cups of tea and all the philosophical madness one could ever imagine, served on rooftops and with a side of glitter.

And he knows that my world is hidden, kept out of sight, and written on no map.

And here I go and advertise. Well, advertise is a bit misleading, perhaps, but here are my military grade secrets displayed for everybody curious enough to read, without so much as a cup of tea or a trip to a rooftop. No one has to go through me to get to my center anymore.

My rabbit hole has been transformed to a regular doorframe. At ground level.

I am no longer underground. I can see how this qualifies as an odd variable, even if its oddity simply lays in the fact that it’s a normal variable within a sea of abnormalities.

But here comes the justification. Or explanation rather; I am fully justified.

I guess my snob for the underground was always just a cover for my laziness. Or complete lack of extraverted ambitions. It was a lingering seed of my hermit ways that somehow found itself blossoming in my later-day philosophies. That snob portrayed many, many things, with the common denominator of being juvenile nonsense.

The main reason for this being nonsense is that I don’t really have any insecurities. I don’t care if people laugh at me and I never have. Seriously. Maybe the nurse dropped me on my head as a kid or something, but somehow I never quite made a connection between the outside world and myself in such a way that enables me to see the significance in how the world sees me.

So what do I possibly have to hide?

That attribute I always considered to be indifference is in fact very closely related to fearlessness. And since it’s not fear holding me back from being visible, why would I hold back?

I don’t care if I fail, because in my own eyes it’s a lesson learned and my eyes don’t see from the viewpoint of others. It they judge, they judge, but that judgment has nothing to do with me.

So, dear friend, I can see how you think me blogging is odd. I can see how it doesn’t fit your frame of how I operate. But I also believe you know me well enough to know I change. Constantly.

After all, it took change for me to let you down my rabbit hole to begin with. And that was one of the best decisions I ever made.

Really hope you’ll stick around for some more changes.


I’m a writer, new mom and foodie. I love sharing what I know while making others feel beautiful. On this blog, I share my healthy lifestyle, simple meals, fitness tips and experiences.

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Kara Bout It