Thursday, June 28, 2012

Things I'm Afraid to Tell You...

There has been a blog movement that I have thought about participating in for several, several weeks. I have debated whether or not I would really publish a post.

I heard about it on Creature Comforts. I read quite a few blogs, and women listed the things they have been afraid to put out there for the world to read. I do feel there is a gap between what (a lot of) mom bloggers put in their posts each day and what really happens in their lives each day. No hardwood floor is always spotless, but one rarely sees a dust bunny in a blog post. Look at my beautiful home. Look at my impeccable children. Do you like my shiny car? These are the yummy cookies I made for a treat. Check out this faboosh baby shower I threw. BUT. I don't care how perfect your blog makes you look; your turds stink the same as mine. Ya know what I mean?

There are certain things that I do not put on the blog. Most of those things are intensely private and do not belong in my public space. Some of those things are sacred. Only for me. And then...there are those things that even though I would love to say them, I don't. Until now.

- There are clothes in my closet that I have never worn. Expensive, nice things. I buy them but can never bring myself to wear them. For example. I have a gorgeous dress from Anthropologie that I have never worn because it is sleeveless, and it hangs in my closet tags and all. Two years after I bought it.

- I hang on to guilt even worse than my thighs hang on to ice cream. In 1994 I inadvertently helped with a joke that hurt a classmate's feelings and embarrassed her beyond all reason. Let's leave it at that because I am long-winded. Eighteen years later. I feel guilt. I know I should have told her what actually happened that night. I know there is a million to one chance she reads my blog, but just in case...Jennifer, I am sorry, and I wish I had told you eighteen years ago. Nope, still feel guilty.

- I have a crippling lack of self confidence. Crippling might not even be a strong enough word for it. I think of myself like Chinet. Cheap, plain, disposable, only allowed at the dinner table because you don't want to fool with it later. Occasionally, it comes in handy to not suffer from an inflated sense of self worth. I try very hard to appear confident and strong, and maybe I have been able to fool some of you over the years. The brutal truth is that I am paralyzed by my insecurities and always have been.

- I have not spoken to my younger sister in almost a year. I don't know if we will ever speak to one another again. Sometimes, the hurt is just too big for words.

- I am pro-choice. Emphatically so. I am also in favor of legalizing gay marriage. Emphatically so. I do not believe that something must be biblically justifiable to also be legally justifiable. Morality cannot be successfully legislated in my opinion. The majority of the blogs I follow are written by Stay-at-Home, Christian mothers. I would guess that most are Baptist. I would guess that the majority of the people who follow my blog are also Christian mothers. I would also guess that I will lose a good number of followers because I decided to "come out" as someone who does not believe that religious beliefs should dictate the law.

- Ok. This is kind of silly, but I have never, ever confessed this on the blog for fear of what others might say. I have a tattoo. It's in a place where no one ever sees it. In fact, I could wear a bathing suit, and you still wouldn't see it. If I ever wore a bathing suit. Ha! I think J is the only person who has ever heard me talk about when I got it and why. Truthfully, the when and why fall into a sacred category, but nonetheless, I have ink. Do I regret it? Sometimes. Other times, I am acutely aware of what it did for me at the time and know that it was actually an experience that I needed to have.

This list barely brushes the surface of things I'd love to put on the blog but don't. Maybe I will work up the courage to post more things over time. I would love for my blog to have so much transparency that it aches. That's a dangerous thing to want. Everyone looks awful under a microscope.