I wanted to share this old blog with you, a little piece of me from circa 2011, in the hopes that it might help you feel that all of you is fully welcome in this world, like you don’t have to hide anything anymore.
So, here goes:
Sometimes I’m totally bored of being with my child.
Sometimes I wish I’d never had a kid.
I’m secretly hoping to get accidentally pregnant.
(I think I may be crazy)
Sometimes I hate families with two parents.
But, really, I secretly envy them.
I would get electrolysis if I could afford it and didn’t think people would judge me. I’d probably also get a boob job if I thought it would look natural and I didn’t think people would judge me.
I judge people who don’t breast feed.
I once spent $1000 on clothes because I was mad at him for sleeping with another woman.
I have cheated on every boyfriend I’ve ever had.
I once lied to a credit card company and told them my card had been stolen, so I wouldn’t have to pay for the last few times I used that card.
I had an abortion.
I’m terrified my parents will find this blog.
I’m scared to tell my parents I’m getting divorced. Even though they probably already know. I mean, I’ve been living separately from my husband for almost 2 years now.
One of the reasons I haven’t (officially) gotten divorced yet is that I’m afraid I won’t be able to support myself on my own.
Another reason I haven’t (officially) gotten divorced yet is that I still sometimes think we’ll work it out.
One of the reasons I dye my hair is so no one will see I’m starting to go gray.
I do. not. like. the wrinkles forming between my eyebrows. I’m OK with the ones at the corners of my eyes.
I have pretty much always been afraid I was fat – since I was about 11 – except for about the 6 months before I got pregnant.
I loved being pregnant. So. Much.
One of the reasons I want another baby is so I can be pregnant again. And give birth again.
I am totally jealous of other people’s success. Especially their successful relationships.
I secretly wish bad things upon people I’ve felt hurt by.
I often feel lonely.
I feel angry most of the time.
I’m obsessed with really expensive jeans and boots.
I sometimes ignore my kid to write in this blog.
I’m afraid I may not do anything worthwhile with my life.