I’ve noticed something.
I guess I knew it before, but now that I’m writing every day, it’s standing out more.
I think I have several different “fronts” I put on when interacting with people or writing here.
In any situation, there tends to be part of me I’m holding back.
Weirdly enough, I let a select few personality traits come forward here that I don’t let to the surface when interacting with some people.
I say “some people” because there actually are some people who know every side of me.
Maybe I’ll just start with a list of confessions, so you, Dear Reader, don’t feel like you’re being duped.
- Sometimes I swear, okay? Sometimes it feels like there is no more fitting word than s@!& or the dreaded f-bomb. I don’t let them fly regularly, but they definitely come forward in certain emotional situations – usually frustration or anger, or sometimes in story-telling because they have a certain embellishing affect, or sometimes with certain people who use it in their regular lingo. I won’t swear freely with you unless I know a) sometimes you do too, or b) you’re not offended by it. A and B are not rock solid rules, because there have been times I’ve let loose with questionable language and walked away from the conversation suffering waves of anxiety that it just wasn’t the right place or time. With that confession out in the open now, I should extrapolate that I am feeling like it’s time I work that “sometimes” habit out of my system. Most of the time I don’t swear, and I’m thinking that’s truly the direction I need to go from here on out, because I’m a grown-up now. I try, but I’m not perfect, damn it.
- I listen to a lot of Christian music. Like almost every day. I know this probably shouldn’t be on a “confession” list, but Christian music has such a reputation for being cheesy and weird and “not real music” that it makes my cheeks turn pink if someone asks what kind of music I listen to. I generally play it when I’m alone in the morning or painting during the day because nobody else in my house enjoys it like I do. I find it soothing and uplifting. It puts my mind and heart where I want to be – which is, I suppose, the whole point. So there – I’m a Christian music fan. That’s not to say I don’t listen to other music. I do. Just don’t ask me to identify who’s currently top 40 right now, because I have no clue.
- I have a heart for people, I really do. But man, I’m human, and sometimes that’s just not the side of me that shows. I so deeply want to be loving with all my words and all my interactions, and all my conversations, but I fail at this often. Right now, I’m remembering a conversation I had two days ago that just didn’t live up to this desire. Sometimes after I’ve said something questionable, I’ll hang my head and wish I could go back with a wet cloth and erase what just happened. I try not to let that linger too long though and practice what I preach to my kids. Mistakes are mistakes and all we can do is learn from them and move on. The actual tricks are the learning and moving. #workinprogress
- I cannot and do not speak the same way I write. I’ve known this one for a long time, but I’m just letting you know too. I think this is true for many, if not most, people who write. Our words come out clearer and perhaps with more honesty in writing than they do from our mouths. In fact, I did an experiment with myself the other day. I had a post percolating in my mind, but I was driving. So I turned my phone to voice record and tried to dictate the post. I literally (and I really mean literally) could. not. do it. I couldn’t get the first sentence out. I couldn’t make it sound the same way out loud as it sounded in my head. So, if you speak to me in person, just be forwarned (I’m thinking of you Lisa S. . . .), you might be like, “What the. . . . She doesn’t even seem like the same person!”. . . . I guess maybe the best way to describe it is that here, you’re getting my innards. Yum. This is why when I find out someone from real life who may not know me well is reading the blog, I suffer a serious wave of anxiety, and I feel like I’ve been inserted into “the underwear dream”. You know, the one where you go somewhere prominent and you’re standing in front of everyone in your underwear, utterly exposed. It’s so much easier for me to write when I imagine everyone who reads here is my BBF – either that, or a complete stranger. The in-betweeners – those are the ones that give me the anxiety.
That’s it for now folks. No time for a clever little wrap up. It’s 8:30 and there is a table full of appetizers calling my name and football game to be watched. I must go and do something about both.