Some people may dislike me for my openness. They get tired of knowing what I think about politics or religion or breastfeeding or my anxiety or how much my kids drive me nuts.
And then there is probably just a slew (of the 6 people who actually read my drivel) who don't quite comprehend how I can stand to let so many people know what is going on with me.
I like talking about everything and anything because I've found that in many cases, someone feels the same way. And so I don't feel so alone. So weird.
Up until a short while ago, D and I had been in a celibate marriage since sometime in 2009 when I was pregnant with M. Lord knows, I wasn't dying for sex while gestating and banging a chick who looks like she swallowed a watermelon wasn't much of a turn-on for him. I felt weird about this.....because most articles I read make it seem like people are having sex at least twice a week. I suspect these people are lying OR the remaining 80% of the population didn't take the same survey.
Anyway, at bunco or bookclub, a friend of mine who was pregnant at the same time I was and who is breastfeeding said that she and her husband had been celibate since she got pregnant when I brought up mine and D's particular situation. I could have hugged her because I no longer felt like I was a freak. Even if she and I were the only two women in temporarily celibate marriages on the planet, I was ok because someone else was in similar shoes.
And so that is part of the reason I just say what is going on or what I feel. Because I know how relieved I am to find other people feel similarly or have gone through something similar or can relate on whatever level they can relate.
The other reason I just let it all hang out is because, dammit, it is just too much work to act cool and self-assured and hip. The reason I chose to become a middle school teacher is because the insecurity and awkwardness that plagues us when we are adolescents is the only "phase" of life we never fully outgrow. And I am determined to just accept that part of me and not work to come across as anything other than the real honest Carrie.
Very young children are so energetic, so alive, so fully of energy. Everything is new and exciting and full of possibility. But with time, life becomes more routine, boring, and our zest lessens.
Teenagers are invincible, or think they are. They can't be hurt or die. The world is their oyster and lies fully open and stuffed with pearls. But it doesn't take too much time before that feeling of invincibility dies.
The insecurity, the awkwardness, the feeling weird in your own skin of adolescence, particularly middle school, never goes away. I think everyone carries a piece of this in them forever.
My theory is that if I accept the insecurity, awkwardness, weirdness and am honest about it with those I know and meet, then I am free to find the zest for life that lies dormant in me and the feeling of invincibility. I am able to feel everything more freely because I am not trying to be something I am not.
The funniest thing about this whole line of thought is that because I am honest and open, I think lots of people think they know me better than they do. They think they have me pegged. Maybe they do. But at the same time, they still don't really know me. Every moment of every day I learn something new about myself or change in a way I wouldn't have anticipated. So how can anyone really think they know me when I don't fully know myself?
I couldn't help thinking of Song of Myself as I was writing this, and I found a couple lines that seemed appropriate to this train of thought....
Funny how Mr. Whitman inspired me as a college student in American Lit. and almost 20 years later, at a totally different stage of life, I find his song still calling to me.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab
and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.