There was a time in my life when I’d write anything on this page. I shared every story, held nothing back, left it all on the field, and rarely worried about what people thought.
And now, there’s nothing.
Which isn’t to say there’s nothing happening. My world, both inside and out, is a tumult of unfulfilled desires and unrelenting duties that I primarily share with someone whose greatest dream is to be Moana.
There is stuff going on in here. Stuff that desperately needs to come out.
What holds me back is that I don’t want anyone to be shocked. I don’t want the first time people hear about me considering taking Ativan leftover from an MRI to see if it helps the jaw-tightening, tongue-tingling anxiety to be from a blog post.
I also don’t want to be accused of withholding. Of putting on a brave face. Of airing dirty laundry. Of being a bad example.
“I had no idea.”
“Are you okay?”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Maybe worse is silence. The kind I fill up myself.
“You wouldn’t feel/think/deal with that if you were a better mother/wife/Christian/human.”
But where is the time for those conversations between work and baby and commute and all of the rest of life that piled up and around me when I wasn’t looking? Who wouldn’t be shocked by half of what I’d say if given the chance to have those conversations face-to-face?
The response to my last post was lovely. But there was a (small and trying-to-be-helpful) contingent echoing the rallying cry of “don’t care so much what people think!” And they’re right. But also not.
I care what people think because it’s not just me anymore. The person who published everything that was on her mind existed before I committed to my marriage, before I had a baby, before I met God. Now I’m a wife, mom, and banner-carrier for Christ, where before I was sort of just, this guy, you know?
It’s different now.
There has to be a middle ground. Some balance between past abandon and current self-consciousness.
Maybe the answer is to just do it. To open the valve and let it rush out and see what happens. I keep saying I will, but fear keeps me from it.
Maybe there’s grace enough even for that.