Holding onto Shame/Letting Go of Secrets

It comes in phases. 13 years later, it still creeps up on me, rattles around my mind, strides across my memory. Lately, it's lost its power. I can say the words without a racing heart, sweaty palms or fear of judgement. 13 years later, it's not as tangible as it once was. Breathe.

Most of us grow up learning there are certain family secrets that we don't share with people outside our family.  Then there are the shameful bits that we don't discuss outside our immediate family, if at all. As we get older, we begin to collect our own secrets, our own shame, develop our own list of indiscretions. I have come to believe that the healing begins when you can refer to it as a bad choice. When you are no longer the victim, but a willful participant who can accept an appropriate amount of blame, and still recognize that while not a victim per se, we were not alone in the situation.  When it no longer makes you hang your head, no longer weighs on your shoulders, pops up in the middle of your day- that is when the secret, the shame loses its power.

Throughout the last 13 years I have battled with my secret. I tell some, then not others. I had nightmares, saw faces in a random crowd, feared confrontation: a bitch-slap in front of my in-laws, a drink thrown in my face while out with friends at a bar, worried about being side-swiped while driving through the town where much of it all happened. This is all very dramatic and unlikely to happen, but I still feared it.

I recognize that not everyone would understand. Most of us can't fully empathize unless we have been through a similar situation or know someone who has. That is human nature. It is easy to judge when you hear a story third-hand or without knowing all the facts. Regardless, I admit that my secret involves me being selfish, fearful, ugly and dishonest. The years immediately following my secret, I made a hundred terrible choices all in an effort to distance myself from the shame, to build up a wall to block it, to prove to everyone else that I wasn't that bad of a person. None of those hundred terrible choices made me feel the shame the original secret did. The funny thing is, if you talk to enough people, my secret is not shocking, it's not outrageous, not everyone thinks I'm doomed to spend eternity in hell, because many people have experienced something similar.

Also, I admit that at this point, it's not much of secret. Enough people know about it that it's becoming just an event in my past...and less of a shameful secret. I'm the girl who drinks too much and then spills all my dirty stories. I'm a drink and purge kind of girl-not vomiting, but confessing my deep, dark past to the people I feel connected with. It's a way of unburdening myself, and testing the friendship. It's the method I used when I met Husband. Right away I told him everything because if he wasn't willing to stick around, I wasn't interested in pursuing it. Laid it all out on the table, well, the bar. If he couldn't handle it then he was free to go without either of us having invested much time. Lucky for me, he stuck around.

This is a rambling post, but the point of it all is this: 1. We all have secrets that feel heavy to us, but in reality aren't that big. 2. Shame only exists if we allow it to, but it's a hard thing to shake. 3. Women carry the secrets, we carry the burden of our family secrets and our own. We hold the key to acceptance, forgiveness, absolution. Women hold the power in a family and that comes with responsibilities.

Recently I have discussed my secret, and while I believe it caused distance in one relationship, it went unnoticed, unjudged in two others. There is something lost for me because I am not the perfect, untouched, undamaged person that the relationship needed. It makes me angry and resentful, but also, I give up on trying because it's out of my hands. If I'm judged on a bad choice I made 13 years ago, then that person's affection/approval is not important to me. I recognize there is danger is sharing secrets because while you may feel unburdened, the other party might take on that burden because they don't know how to handle it. Yet if they care, they will find a way to make it unimportant because your relationship matters most.

Thank you to my friends for letting me share and not making me feel judged. Thank you to my friends, and my husband, who love me despite my bad choices in the past, who understand that those choices made me who I am now.

Stuffed Animals Make Everything Seem Alright

First, I'm proud of myself. We were supposed to have a meal with the family including the newly pregnant wife of the terribly spoiled and selfish sibling of my husband (hereafter the Brat and Wife). We had managed to talk ourselves into behaving correctly, believing we could accept it, when they refused to give a date for dinner. They are simply too busy, too rude, too selfish to say "this day works, this day doesn't" so at the last minute we end up going without them (hallelujah). I spent the day with my husband's mother, while he, his father and cousin went out looking at motorcycles. Knowing how weird she has been about the whole thing, I brought it up, wanting to get it out in the open. Previously I had thought she was acting strange about it because she knew how much we wanted a child, and that we had been trying for some time, etc. But no, she shared why she had been so awkward about the whole thing. The Brat is shocked, scared for himself, for the fact that his life will change and he will no longer be the center of attention. He won't be able to travel at the drop of a hat, can't spend every weekend with his frat brothers getting sloppy, while his wife does the same with her vapid, bulimic girlfriends. They didn't want to tell too many people, therefore they ruined my mother-in-law's joy.

She mentioned that the Wife was worried that I (along with her pregnant friend) would be upset. I didn't respond. Of course I'm upset- everything happens for them without effort. The worst part is, they aren't even grateful. But to prove just how "okay" I am with the whole thing, I took my mother-in-law to the toy store down the street and purchased the cutest stuffed animal I've seen to give to the Brat and Wife. So I listened and watched as my mother-in-law picked up and cooed over everything in the store. Was that painful to see, knowing it was for the Brat and Wife? Hell yes, but it was necessary. These are two high maintenance people who make more money and spend more money than most people I know on clothes and cars. Naturally I was worried about the gift-was it nice enough for them? My mother-in-law assured me it was all in my head and agreed to give the stuffed animal to them since the Brat works with them and they live very close to them. That was Saturday-it's Tuesday and we've heard nothing from them.

I know that you don't give a gift just for the reward, but c'mon. Between texts and Facebook, it doesn't take much effort to acknowledge a gift.

I'm still envisioning my oft-practiced speeches in responses to their careless remarks. Comments that I'll never be able to make because the Brat and Wife won't give me the opportunity, no matter how badly I want it. The chance to spew my frustration, disgust and anger at the people who seem to have all the luck, who get all the things I want without even trying, praying or wishing.

It's hard to say what's worse-that no one really acknowledges our struggle or that despite knowing it, they don't address it. I've got a bitter speech prepared, either way.

Thursday my husband and I have our first visit at the fertility clinic. There are alot of mixed emotions about this. I'll post more about that later.

Brought to You by The A**holes on My Drive Home

This is a quick rant on what has frustrated me on my drive home in the afternoons:
1. People smoking with kids in their cars
2. People smoking with kids in their cars, driving, while on their cell phone
3. Mothers pushing their kids in strollers, along a busy street while talking on their cell phones and not paying attention to traffic, swerving all over because they can't push straight while holding the phone to their ear.
4. When waiting at a stop sign to turn left, people driving on the road I wish to turn onto drive too fast for me to pull out in front of, then suddenly slow down when they see me waiting to turn. PICK A DAMN SPEED!!
5. Drivers driving below the speed limit, cutting people off, cutting bikes off...the list goes on.

I spend way too much energy screaming at people when they can't even hear me. They can probably see me though-a crazy looking, frizzy haired woman throwing her hands up and moving her mouth, turning red in anger. It's fun though!

I tried to find an image that would represent me while I'm driving, but this one really spoke to me. Anyone else feel like this sometimes?

Love Letter to My Ladies

I don’t know how it is for men, but for women, in general, it’s very important to have another female whom you trust and care about who is on the same page as you. There have been a few things that have happened where I needed my girlfriends to understand and be on my side. Even when they can’t fully relate to the situation, they are supportive and it makes the biggest difference.

I think that no matter how loving your relationship is with your boyfriend or husband, you still need your girls. Women understand the jealousy, the insecurity, the desires that we all have. I’m so grateful for my girls who make me feel like a normal human being, who love me no matter what crazy bent I may be on for the week or wild bitchy mood I may be in-they accept me for me, and give me what I need to get through whatever difficulty is happening in my life.

Women are challenging creatures. By no means do I believe that we are all honest, up front, our love/friendship is not always unconditional. But when you do make that connection to another woman who is as open as you, as real you, it’s fulfilling. It’s also lonely when you don’t have those women around you all the time. My women are in California, D.C., Maryland and Vienna. We don’t talk everyday, or even every week, but when we do talk, text or email, it’s as satisfying as being together in person. I know they mean it when they say they understand, I believe when they tell me the truth and that they love me.

Thank you ladies for your friendship. I hope you feel that you receive the same from me. 

Grace, Being Grateful, Acceptance

We got some news recently that was utterly heartbreaking. It’s taken us a few days to recover, and it required a lot of alcohol, crying and holding one another. These are the times when I question everything-and try very hard to hold God accountable and decide I won’t believe anymore. This never works because while I have no particular religion or faith, I do believe. I want to believe, but there are times when the constant shit-storm is too much for me and I doubt that anything/one is looking out for my husband and I.

When people around you appear to have very easy lives, or have little conflict or real distress (not imagined or self-created as many people do), and they receive something wonderful that you have been working for, or wishing for, it can be difficult to feel happy for them. The first response is “why not me?” It is especially challenging when they are not grateful. There is a difference between downplaying something positive to be modest or kind when you are sharing your good news with another, and simply being ungrateful. A lack of appreciation for the blessing they’ve been given is an insult to those who have desired the same thing. These are always the people who get what you want first, regardless of how hard or long you have been working for it. The universe or God or whatever you believe in is not fair, and in my life I have learned that there is no reason why some people have an easier time than others. I feel it is completely egotistical and self-centered to claim that some force or being looked into your little life and declared when something could happen. 

Envy is not pretty. I know that not everyone feels it and I admire people who are above it. It is definitely one of the worst parts of me. That being said, no matter how deep into my own self-pity I may dive, I never want the good things at the expense of another, or instead of the other person. There are certain parts of life that I just wish could belong to me first. To experience blessings without the unsolicited advice from everyone else who has achieved or received it before you. To have those experiences belong to you completely without others believing they had some part in it, or think they know better than you and constantly tell how you should handle this, go about this, etc. Frankly, there are some things that you want to be the first to share with family because once it happens, the experiences that follow are never as meaningful as the first.

One of the most painful aspects to the recent news we received is that we know they will be treated differently, better, placed on a pedestal, and in the face of our own challenges it makes it that much harder to embrace their exciting news. It has also prevented us from interacting with the family, as embarrassing as that is to admit. We just aren't ready to deal with it. 

Regardless, we have to find the grace to accept the reality and manage to silence the envy within us in order to be truly happy for the others and to free ourselves from resentment and anger. Their good luck has nothing to do with us and we have to move beyond ourselves and try to be grateful for what we have. 

Guys in Skinny Jeans

Okay, really, why are some guys wearing skinny jeans? If you want to dress like a lady, then wear a dress, not leggings. It's not manly, it's not strong, it doesn't make you  look like someone who is trustworthy or able to protect a women. I'm biased though because I like manly-men. A big, strong, solid man (like my sexy husband) is a major turn on. Skinny, wimpy, artistic types who don't wash their hair, who claim to be sensitive and loyal even though they'd sleep with any woman who paid attention to them if they weren't so self-loathing and unable to get an erection. This is the type that is prevalent in Portland.

  

There are of course men who just like to be fashionable and don't have these problems, but still, why? Why are you wearing these horrendous pants? It doesn't look good. And if you already have skinny legs, why would you highlight them with skinny jeans? It makes it look as though your feet exploded out of the bottom of the pants.

While searching for photos for this post, I found that there are ALOT of people who have commented on their blogs about this fashion trend. Makes me feel better for hating it. It's always nice to know you're not alone.

The Miller Lite ad below is about the skinny jean epidemic, and it's pretty funny. Some guys are just clueless. Fashion is for those who are built like pre-teen boys and those who are rich or bold enough to do what they want without caring what other people think. It's not for the rest of us, and I beg you, please spare us from this disgusting trend.

Nice 'stache

Tom Selleck. That's who came to mind when I saw the photos...of my upper lip...at the dentist.

Through my new job my husband and I were able to purchase decent dental insurance so we recently went to the dentist. It's been a long time since I've been and was very surprised by the technology they use now. The x-rays were done with an apparatus that was hooked directly into their computer, and they took actual photographs of my smile, teeth and the inside of my mouth with this tiny wand. I was impressed with the technology and the efficiency of it all. Until they put the photos of my mouth up on the computer screen in front of me. The photo they took of the outside of my mouth and smile included my upper lip, and it was horrifying!  I could not believe how gross it looked!

Admittedly, I do have hair on my upper lip and I do wax regularly. It's not very noticeable, except at certain angles, and that is the angle they took the photo of my smile.  Mortified is a good way to describe the feeling of seeing your own mustache enlarged on a computer screen for an entire office of dental professionals to look at. Gratefully, no one mentioned the forest on my lip and focused on my teeth and gums.

They should warn women about the photos so we can go to the salon and have our "Selleck" removed.