Is it weird that I am nervous even typing these first few words? Totally at war in my head. On one shoulder there is a little cherub, dressed in white, shifting around and saying in a less-than-convincing voice, “You go girl!” while on the other shoulder sits a hunched over gremlin trying to grab the cherub and cover her mouth much like I did about 30 years ago when my sister was about to tattle on me for doing something stupid. “Um, SHUT UP! Your words are going to get us ALL in trouble!” Clearly we can see which voice is louder and hence gets more listening time from me. So, in even starting a blog I am listening to the whisper. Which scares me.
Not that, by any stretch of the imagination, the world is reading or caring about my thoughts. 🙂 Probably my mom and my sisters. My brother in law promised to subscribe but I won’t hold you to it, JT. Anyway, all of them are already aware of just how ‘free spirited’ I am, so I can’t imagine that much I type here will shock them. 🙂 It’s just super scary to think about having a place to really be me, to take off all of the funny little hats that I put on each and every day, the things that I pretend to be so that maybe, just maybe, I’ll be ‘reasonable’ and ‘likeable’ and will blend in to my cute little suburb just a tiny bit more. So that I won’t be the sore thumb sticking out of the hand known as Western Springs. I care about these things more than I would like to admit. I fear for my children. What will it be like in a few years when they realize that some moms – alright, in my suburb MOST moms – wear cute jeans and cute shirts and ADORABLE shoes and even make up to school when they drop the kids off? Moi? Not so much. If we’re lucky we make it out in something besides jammy pants.
So, at much coaxing from my sister, here I am on a blog. I’m not sure even Amy knows how hard this is. I feel like I have to come to grips with being me. Honestly, that is just hard for me. A few times in the last few months I’ve tried to go beyond the surface level conversation with some friends and pretty much, at the end of each experience, I felt like I had the word LOSER written across my forehead. I was even asked by one friend, “Seriously, why do you have to think about such deep things?” Which to a first born, perfectionistic girl who wants nothing more than to please just about EVERYBODY in my life, a simple comment like that will shut me up for a while. Like, 3 months. Only in the last week have I felt brave enough to start having real – and I mean REAL – conversations with people in my life. And only the ones truly closest to me. I have a hard time putting myself in unsafe situations. Any chance of someone laughing at me or shooting me down and I deem it unsafe until further notice. Which truthfully has left me in a bit of a bubble. I realize that it is an unfair expectation to think I won’t ever be laughed at or questioned. I deserve these things sometimes. But when they actually happen it is just so hard. Amy (my sister, as you know) has been reading a blog that seems to have quite a following. Ever heard of Momastery? Anyway, apparently Momastery has this saying, “We do hard things.” So maybe somehow this teeny tiny blog will simply help me do this hard thing called “Accepting Criticism and Moving On.”
Wow, how very Debbie Downer of me for a first blog post. Yikes. Ironic that the name of the blog is “Sundrop Girl.” Maybe this gray, rainy cloud will roll past soon enough to reveal that there is, in fact, a brilliant sky behind it with every hue of orange and pink and yellow, shining like a gift from Heaven. Can’t wait. 🙂