Keeping It Real
5. If I was keeping it real, I would tell you that I stay in romantic relationships longer than I should because I don’t believe that I deserve better. My head tells me that I am worth more than what’s been given to me, that I am entitled to demand equality in a partnership instead of always being put in the parent role. My heart whispers that I’m not good enough for anyone to stay with long-term, so I should just settle for what I’ve been given and stop rocking the damn boat. My head tells me that I want someone to take care of me, to relieve me from the constant pressures of taking care of everyone around me. My heart whispers that I don’t deserve that. I’m envious beyond comprehension of my friends that have partnerships; a spouse to lean on, relationships that are free from the day-to-day drama that borders on the ridiculousness; someone to care for them, protect them, love them. My heart whispers in the dark that I’m not worthy of those things, and that I should get used to being alone.
6. If I was keeping it real, I would tell you that I’m terrified of failing in my business and standing on my own financially. I feel like I’m not smart enough, not organized enough, not driven enough and generally not “with it” enough to pull off this venture and I’m going to fall flat on my face and financially ruining my family. Because I had a nice divorce settlement and it’s been a decade since I worked a corporate job, my inner voice questions whether starting a business was just my way of delaying the inevitable return to work that faces all single parents with one income. Most days, I can push it aside and stay focused on the task at hand. But other days, I lie in bed eating cookies and watching talk shows and reality television until it’s time to pick my girls up from school just to get my brain to shut off.
7. If I was keeping it real, I would tell you that I am not as organized as I appear to be. My house is a mess – not cluttered but dirty because I never have time to clean it. My yard is starting to look like “that house” in the neighborhood – you know what I’m talking about. The one that you look at next to all of the others and say to yourself “Oh the poor neighbors! Why can’t they keep it up?”. My dining room looks like a laundry room slash storage area because it is the default dumping ground for things that need to have something done with but I don’t have time for. I used to be the person that mailed out birthday cards to everyone – now you’ll be lucky to get a “Happy Birthday” post on Facebook from me. And I’m not even going to discuss my office that I can’t even work in because it’s so full of other things that don’t belong in there that I am forced to work at the kitchen table.
8. If I was keeping it real, I would tell you that I live in a constant state of waiting for the other shoe to drop when it comes to my friends. I have an amazing tribe of women that I love dearly. That understand this crazy thing called blogging and social media and don’t ridicule me or make me feel bad about it, either publicly or privately. I adore them. I think that I am a pretty good person to be friends with. I am loyal and generally will do just about anything for someone who I call a friend. But I’m in a constant state of fear that I’ll wake up tomorrow and they will have decided that I’m not the person that they want to be friends with anymore. Everyone that’s really been important to me has left eventually. I’m just waiting for them to figure out that I really am all of the horrible things that my family and the inside of my head says I am so they can go hang out with someone else that’s better. Funnier. More interesting. A better friend.