I agreed to participate in the third round of Things I’m Afraid To Tell You posts that have spread around the blogosphere, mostly because I, too, have been struggling with the transparency issue on blogs — specifically this blog. I consciously keep this a place of positivity and happiness, only because there’s so much negativity to sift through on the Internet. I’m also a very private person. But am I then encouraging a crop of young girls to get pregnant based on the flowery parts of “early” motherhood? Am I not portraying a realistic image?
After much back and forth, I firmly decided that I’d rather come from a place of positivity because that’s how I choose to live. Yet it’s been refreshing to see other bloggers bare their insecurities and fears — bloggers I hold on such sky-high pedestals — to make us all feel a little more human.
So here is my reluctantly written list of things I’m afraid to tell you:
1. FIRST let me say that I’m a very rational, logical person (see #2). Yet a part of me thinks that I may not make it past age 27. It feels ridiculous to write, but it’s the truth. The number 27 has had such an eerie presence in my life, and I can honestly say that there isn’t a person in my family who isn’t convinced that there’s some major significance — especially after Noah was born just after midnight on 2/7/09. It’s all so weird.
Something significant will happen when I turn 27, and it very well could be something wonderful — a new baby (most likely), finally getting a house, having a major career milestone, etc. Or maybe all of the 27s in my life have been like neon blinking arrows pointing to my 2/7 baby — just so I’d recognize his significance to the world. Maybe he’s my 27, lingering around, dropping clues of his forthcoming existence.
Or maybe it means absolutely nothing beyond my slow spiral into lunacy.
On a bad day, I’ll think that maybe there’s a reason I’ve done everything “early” in my life — why I felt I had to rush to adulthood, to condense my life. Maybe my entire life, including death, will be “early.” Even though it sounds like a weight to carry around — an unnecessary, illogical, torturing weight — it actually helps me enjoy each day, each minute, of my life before 27.
Feel free to mock me on my 28th birthday.
2. I’m not a religious person. This is something that I deliberately never wanted to tell you, only because it’s unfortunately a major divider. I was scared of losing readers, of being misunderstood.
I’m fascinated with theology, but I’ve always been very open-minded about it. I went to Sunday School, CCD — I’d beg my Dad to tell me Bible stories on the car rides home as I’d stare up at the moving stars — but I never fully bought it. I went on to take countless classes on religion in college, specifically relating to politics, culture, humanity — but I’ve always maintained a very objective perspective. If I’m watching Netflix, I’m probably watching a documentary on Buddhism, Jesus, Ancient Egyptian religion, etc. (loser!). I’ve never been sold on any one doctrine, but I’m fascinated at the common threads — as well as with nature, physics, energy, and basic laws of science. I might be the most spiritually curious non-religious person I know.
This is my religion: I don’t know. I don’t know. You could be right, or you could be right — or maybe everyone is slightly right. The real answer is most likely too big, or even too simple, to know for sure. Maybe it all means nothing, and the atheists are right. But I choose to live my life piecing the puzzle together, and I hope that you choose whatever makes you feel happy and content. I strongly feel that religion/spirituality (or the lack thereof) should be personal and private, yet I really struggle with how to approach this with Noah. He has no idea who or what a God is.
3. I used to secretly wish for a miscarriage. And now I’m terrified that the wish will one day come true — that someone or something will take him away from me. (More here.)
4. I went on three job interviews at Allure magazine (when I was days pregnant and didn’t know it). I didn’t get the job, and I never would’ve taken such a demanding job while I was pregnant. As much as I’d never trade my life — never, never, never — I still get stomach pangs when I pass an Allure cover at the grocery store. I still imagine a different life that could have been.
5. I’m constantly comparing myself to you. When you succeed at something, a part of me feels like there’s less success for me. I’m not sure where I’m racing to, or why.
6. The people who have hurt me, embarrassed me, or rejected me (see #4) take up far too much of my quiet moments. I’ve mentally gone back in time to tell you exactly what I should have said, over and over again. And even if you think I’m over it, a part of me isn’t.
7. I strongly considered not publishing this.
Here are the rest of the brave bloggers participating in this round. Leave them some comments too — it’s not easy being so vulnerable:
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 | Amy at Old Sweet Song | Jen at Jen Epting | Leslie at Lights and Letters