Let’s be honest. Nope, nothing after that sentence. That’s my complete thought. Let’s just be honest. Imagine how much clearer relationships would be, directions would be, lives would be if we were all just honest. Know what you want, say what you want, mean what you say. How comforting would that be, to know that no ulterior motives lie behind a message. No repressed feelings to fester after years of pretending.
If I were honest with myself I would have uncovered my fear failure much earlier in life. My flight response when self-doubt engulfs me and I feel the false pressure of my impending doom. (I mean, I’m not Indiana Jones! Thank God, right!? I mean, those caves! Gross.) I would have followed my dream of acting. I would have gone to school for something more creative.
If I were completely honest with my babies I would tell them that sometimes I’m terrified. Sometimes I wonder why these beautiful little creatures are calling me mom and looking to ME for answers. I don’t even know what color I want my toe nails! When did I become mature enough to manage little lives??? Answer: I DON’T REMEMBER THAT EVEN HAPPENING! Run, littles. Run to safety! Those Cheeze It commercials with the immature cheese and the guy with the white coat, run to the white coat guy. Run to him, little ones. He’s mature. Not me!
If I were totally honest with myself and with my husband I would have probably told us both that I wasn’t entirely ready to get married when we did. I was terrified. I was too guarded. The sins of my past were still too raw. Buuut, then again, it kept things interesting, right, bae? You know, “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” and all that. We definitely climbed a mountain. You’re welcome, Love. I made you work for it. And, by default, I made us BOTH work for it. So, that plan backfired.
You see, I’m a recovering co-dependent. That means I’ve spent my ENTIRE life not being honest. I spent my whole existence doing everything I could to control things, to please people, to keep peace, to stay under the radar and always do the “good” thing. That’s how you act so that people you love love you back. That’s how you get people you love to stay. You do the “good” thing. You become perfect. Everyone wants perfect, right? In the words (or word) of Donald Trump: WRONG!
You know what gets people to stay? People. They have to decide to stay. I’m not capable of controlling that! You know what gets people to stay? Beautiful chaos. The mess. The adventure. Respect. Trust. Memories. Life.
Some people will stay, some won’t. Those who don’t, well, that’s a reflection on them. Not you. Do what you do. Sky dive, go to the beach without planning to, have a mimosa at 6am on a Sunday, scream FUCK when things get overwhelming. (just not in front of the babies. No one wants THAT call from school.) Guess what? God won’t send you to hell for it. He doesn’t care what time you drink! It’s prolly 5pm up there all the time. Have a good heart. Have good intentions. Set boundaries you’re comfortable with for every relationship you have. Know what you stand for and stick to those convictions. Don’t apologize for them. Respect the boundaries of others. And respect your own. And let’s be honest. Who do you need to be more honest with? What do you need to say?