In the past month or so, our little corner of the internet has been blowing up with posts from blogger's who are bravely baring their souls in a movement called Things I Am Afraid To Tell You. The story began when Jess Constable, who writes the blog Makeunder My Life, revealed a series of personal things that she was afraid to share with her readers. Then Ez of Creature Comforts turned this thing into a full blown movement. People have been sharing all sorts of fears and insecurities and all kinds of things that don't typically show up on our blogs. I fancy myself a pretty open person, but there is a gap between my real life and the life that I present here. Sometimes things get edited out. Or gussied up. And sometimes I just talk about pretty or silly things. Because sometimes that's just easier. But seeing and reading the first and the second rounds of these posts was inspiring. I found myself wanting to bare my soul, too. So when Leslie asked me if I wanted to participate in the next round of posts, I agreed. And then I immediately regretted agreeing because I had no idea what I would say or how I would say it. But, there's fifteen of us posting today and I knew that meant I couldn't back out (even though I kinda wanted to).
So here goes.
Things I Am Afraid to Tell You:
I think for the most part I'm a fairly happy, together and grounded lady. I try to focus on the positive things in my life and pay attention to being happy in the every day. But I'm not always happy. I act like I'm an optimist but there is a strong thread of pessimism that runs through me. It's an interesting breed of pessimism though because it's only directed at me. So while I believe generally that good things happen and that things work out for the best for everyone else, it doesn't apply to me. And the the truth is I spend too much time being scared.
I'm scared that I'll never meet the right man for me. Or that I've already met him and I didn't realize it. Or that I'm looking for the wrong things. Or that he lives on the other side of the world. No matter the reason I'm sort of convinced I'm just one of those unlucky people who will end up alone. And it terrifies me. Because even though I'm a pretty independent person, I'd still really like to find someone to share my life with. And maybe it won't happen.
I'm scared that I'll never get the chance to have children. And I'd really like to do that and I think I would be good at it. And I sort of hate Facebook now because all it is is baby after baby and while I'm individually excited and happy for everyone, when you put all those babies together in one place it's like one big baby faced punch to my sad uterus. And sometimes it makes my heart hurt. So I don't look at Facebook too much because I find myself having feelings of envy and I don't want to be that person.
I'm scared that all the weight I've lost will instantly come back if I eat pizza or skip the gym for a day. I'm scared that I'll never be fully happy with my body. And I'm scared that I'll always feel like the fat girl.
I'm scared that I'm making all the wrong choices. And that maybe I'll never have the happy, settled life of love and family and laughter that I want.
In case that wasn't enough, here's some more crazy: I smoke cigarettes. I drink too much. I'm kind of lazy. I never call people back. I haven't cleaned my fridge in two years. I never wash my duvet cover. I pay for a New York Times subscription that I hardly ever read. I really want people to like me. And I spend a disgusting amount of money on new clothes and I should donate (a lot) more to charity.
So there you have it. Just a wee bit of crazy around here. Be sure to go visit the other brave souls who posted today, as well.
And, as always, thanks for reading. xo
Jill at Terra Savvy | Erica at The Elbow | Jen at Taking Off the Mask | Kate at Modern Home Modern Baby | Laura at My So Called Sensory Life | Monique at Razing Mayhem | Caroline at Salsa Pie | Leslie at Life In Every Limb | Tammie at Tam.Me | Melanie at Inward Facing Girl | Michelle at Early Mama | Jen at Jen Epting | Leslie at Lights and Letters