What Are You Talking About?

This morning I was musing about what the "old" me would think of my blog. I would critique it. Red circle the incomplete sentences and the ones ending in prepositions. I would shake my head at the simple phrases and the words that could be replaced with something more significant, eloquent or intelligent. I would cringe at any repeated idea or any contradiction. And why am I not taking the time to add photos anymore? I think it would result in a failing grade.

What it comes down to is I would remind myself that if I don't have time to do something exceptionally well I shouldn't do it at all. Hogwash! How many ventures did I start just to quit? Like learning to play guitar. Or training to work in a chemistry lab? (I paid for that schooling for a while, convincing myself it wasn't for nothing, as I learned to actually study in contrast to my efforts in high school.) How many drawings and paintings have I scrapped? How many hours of writing have I done just to change my mind?

Sometimes I don't like my topics. But the "old" me would like them less. I'm sure I would not appreciate the openness. Who's business is that? I remember when my step daughter was first on chat and I thought, "Why would you share that?" Now I've progressed to telling about my daughter's poop on Facebook.

I would be very upset with my talk about being angry or impatient. Because I am not. Right? I really didn't think I was. Even the time I threw a watch at a friend. Or the time I broke my expensive wedding tiara. I was in denial. And if I ever realised I did have a problem (and couldn't place the blame) the last thing I would want to do is admit that. Even now as I write this I think I really don't have a problem. I don't scream or hit or call names. Everyone has their moments of weakness. But for the sake of their reputation they should probably keep it a secret.

Really? People become aware they can change by seeing others change. They need to be able to ask, without fear of judgement, "How did you do that?" Someone suffering can feel relief in knowing they are not the only one. I used to think other wives didn't struggle with their big to-do lists. Why did I wonder this? Because they tried to hold it together in secret.

People are able to walk in forgiveness when they see everyone is human. Not when they are surrounded by concrete human beings who have it all together. We are all a work in progress. Our past mistakes aren't what matters. Our efforts to grow is what is important.

I've been to years of counselling. I've attended AA. I've given myself a regretful reputation. I've made bad choices. I've been overweight, anorexic, panic stricken. But I've come along way.

And the "old" me can just suck-it-up if she doesn't like that I told you.