I grew up in the 70's and I was always fascinated with nudists. For some reason the idea of feeling comfortable walking around without clothes on seemed very freeing. If I had been raised by other people this might have been my fate. But, I was raised by Pat and Ted so for the most part, the clothes have stayed on.
With emotions, I have never desired to be so open. I am perfectly okay with others who can completely reveal their feelings. In fact, those people are attracted to me. I am willing to listen to your deepest darkest secret and accept and love you anyway. You could hurt me in a terrible way and I could still forgive you and love you.
But somehow I feel so completely vunerable and uncomfortable sharing anything really personal with people. Even people I trust. Even my husband. I don't know if I am afraid that people will think less of me or if I simply do not trust people. Maybe I have a hard time accepting my flaws. Maybe I don't want to let people down. Maybe I beleive that people need me to be strong and stable so that I can support them.
Just writing this is making me anxious. My heart is racing and I have that tingly feeling. Give me something to eat quick. (So that's where those extra 50 pounds came from.) See, what I do? Make a joke when it gets uncomfortable. Change the subject. Let's talk about you and your problems.
I solve other people's problems. I ignore mine. I probably do need therapy.
This is the real reason I only shared this blog address with 4 people when I started it. I wanted it to be read so that I could have a level of accountability to making life change. But, I didn't want people to have access to my me. The real me. Could I be truly honest if I knew everyone was following along? I want to be honest, even if it is painful, and it is.
If I can't be real with the people that love me, my life can't be anything but complicated.
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