A few months ago, I wrote about The Brave Thing. I’ll wait while you read it.
Anyway, it’s one of those things that’s incredibly hard to be open about, let alone live through. I admire anyone that can be brutally honest about their feelings and personal life because I really struggle with that.
(I feel the need to explain that I haven’t been all “Please read this but I can’t really talk about it, you just have to guess what I’m on about while I hint a bit” on purpose – I just couldn’t/wasn’t allowed to talk about it.)
For those that know me, I’m the opposite of a ‘woe is me’ type person, I promise you.
But do you have any idea how frustrating it is not to be able to talk about something so very personal? To have something that is such a massive part of your life, that affects every single aspect of your being, that changes who you fundamentally are … but you can’t share it with people? (Answer: very.)
I’ve said it before, and I still stand by it, I love my blog … I love making people laugh (hopefully with me not at me,) and I love the fact that it’s predominantly a lighthearted blog, but sometimes, sometimes … I need to be completely real about who I am and what all of my life is like.
But here’s the thing. I can’t. What if a prospective employer reads it and judges accordingly? What if my family read it? My kids? People I love? What then? I don’t want to hurt anyone. Put my ‘stuff’ at the door of others.
I laugh about my dating faux pas, my attempts at being a relatively half decent single mum and I have the occasional moan about how shit plus size clothes are. But actually, I’m a big ball of RAAAH right now. Does that make sense to anyone? That RAAAH has to go somewhere. And I don’t know where.
Actually, I think the predominant feeling I have is … sadness. My life wasn’t meant to turn out like this.
I’ll let you into a secret. Behind the big red hair and laughter is someone that just needs an arm round the shoulder. That’s all. How sad is that? I don’t need someone to solve all my problems (although that would be nice, obvz,) but it’s a lot simpler than that. I don’t live on my own … but I’m alone.
Ho hum. They say that writing is meant to be cathartic. So this time tomorrow, everything will be OK. Won’t it?
The Brave Thing. Concluded.