We were talking at lunch and I was saying how, when I was younger, I always just thought that, if I wasn’t married by the time I was 35, I’d just go ahead and have a kid anyway.
That seems like a reasonable thing to say when you’re 25. After all, who sits at twenty-five and assumes that you will still be as crappy at love a decade later?
No, we all assume, I think, that, in the future, we’ll have our acts together.
Alas, I’m now just two short years away from turning thirty five and the idea of being a single mother doesn’t seem so much a possibility as utterly ridiculous.
But, I was joking, maybe I should just go ahead and start taking applications for potential Baby b fathers now.
I had intended on thinking up a whole application and putting it online, just for the funny, but then, I thought, what if I hit thirty five and it’s just like thirty three, which is, in so many ways, so similar to twenty five, which was a great deal like twenty three.
Like God and Popeye say, I am what I am, I guess.
So, I decided that it would be too potentially depressing in the future.
My parents are coming, twice in June and twice in July. I’m stressed out about it, to say the least. Nothing specific, just the stress I always feel when they come to town.
I was again thinking about ethical pleasure as a guiding force in a woman’s life–the idea that we should only do things that will bring us happiness, and do them in ways that don’t hurt others. It helps to talk it over out loud, I guess, because what I realized is that it’s not just the “will bring us happiness” part or the “don’t hurt others” part. It’s the “do things” part that I often struggle with.
What will I do, what do I feel I have the right to do, that feels good to me?
I don’t know, frankly.
I’m sure that most folks get that who I am here at Tiny Cat Pants and who I am offline are not exactly the same. I don’t feel like I’m lying to you about who I am here; sometimes I feel like I’m practicing being the woman I hope I can be.
This is disjointed because I feel vulnerable and exposed to the world in a way I don’t like. I do all my heart-felt revelations online here so that I can be guarded and reserved in real life. Lately, though, I feel like I’ve been called to be more myself in real life, in a way that doesn’t leave me much guarded and reserved space to hide behind.
It scares the shit out of me.
I do keep thinking that there’s going to be some revelation that causes you to finally turn your backs on me. I know that’s stupid and I know that’s something everyone feels and so, for the most part, I can talk myself out of it.
But when my parents are around, it’s harder for me. It’s like, this will be the moment when you hear something about me that completely alters your ability to think of me as anything other than that weird girl you know online.
And I don’t know how I think that’s going to happen. It’s not like they’re going to take over the blog and start spilling my deep dark secrets. I don’t really have any deep dark secrets.
I was supposed to go to the grocery store today. I never went. I was supposed to do dishes. I spent the afternoon reading about Teresa of Avila instead.
I feel like I don’t deserve what I have and I certainly don’t deserve anything else.
That’s a crappy way to bring people up. Why do we do that?