First confession: I see a therapist a few times a year to keep tabs on my anxiety (confession 1.5: telling you that makes me anxious enough to break out in hives). In my last visit, I figured out that because I’ve been so guarded for so long, I feel like most of the people I know don’t actually know me. In my recent attempts to be braver, people have been encouraging, surprised, and maybe a little confused, but there hasn’t been much of a kick-back.
So I decided to start a crash-course in me, to just start writing and see where it takes me, in an attempt to be better at being brave. Some of these are more profound and personal than others, but not everything has to be enlightening.
– I don’t cry very often, but when I do, it’s over something stupid.
– However, Christmas songs make me cry almost every time. I can’t hear Judy Garland sing “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” without white-knuckling against tears.
– I don’t care if patterned socks don’t match, but I’ll buy new socks before wearing mismatched white socks.
– Late 80s/early 90s hair ballads get turned up reallllly loud if I’m alone in the van when they come on the radio.
– I think I make better scrambled eggs than my mother – and that makes me feel guilty.
– I know I make better chili, and I don’t feel guilty about that. It’s my best dish.
– I think that you can be in love with someone more ways than just romantically, that there is a different kind of falling in love that happens between friends.
– I’ve fallen in romantic love three times.
– At least up to this point in my life, I’ve never wanted to be a mother, and the thought of giving birth is very nearly as terrifying as drowning or being burned in a house fire. I get a lot of flack for this.
– Despite not wanting kids, I know what I’d name them, and I’d be furious if you “used my names.”
– I’m lonely almost every second of every day.
– I have a terrible habit of leaving socks everywhere. And water glasses.
– I believe pretty underwear can change your whole day, even if no one else sees them.
– I don’t really like bacon all that much, and I will almost always pick a flavor other than chocolate if given the choice.
– I love stand-up comedy, but almost all my favorites are dead and most of the current ones aren’t funny.
– I don’t believe dead people become angels or are “watching over us,” and that makes it harder when I wish I could still talk to my grandparents.
– Sometimes I have to fight so hard against the tendency to judge people.
– Simon & Garfunkel is probably the best musical mood-changer I will ever have.
– I love high art: opera, classical music, Shakespeare, impressionist paintings, etc. It makes me feel alive.
– My favorite painting is Pissarro’s “The Crystal Palace.” I have to see it every time I go to the Art Institute in Chicago.
– My favorite songs are tied: “Silent Night” and Amos Lee’s “In the Arms of a Woman.” I listen to the latter just about every night on the playlist I use to fall asleep.
– My favorite movie is “The Matchmaker,” which most people have never heard of or seen, and it’s just a rom-com from the mid 90s, but I LOVE it.
– I hate “Les Miserables.”
– My high IQ means school was almost never challenging and I got lower grades than I could have because I was so insanely bored and underwhelmed.
– I think less of myself for not being as well-read as many of my friends. I start hundreds that I don’t finish.
– I have read an embarrassing amount of chick lit because it’s how I turn my brain off when I need to escape.
– I read poetry because I absolutely love words, but the only poems I’ve written in the last twenty years are the two on my blog because I feel like I love poetry too much to ruin it by writing my own.
– I am allergic to blue dyes, which makes life more difficult than it should be.
– I love going shooting with my uncle Curt and cousin Marky.
– I love having nicknames for people. It’s not just something silly to me; it’s the highest form of endearment to me, because it implies intimacy and usually a longer relationship than others. So no matter how old we get, they’ll still be Noonie, Fran, Branoh, Stevie, Marky, Pokey, Calebaleb, Sarahberry, and Eedle.
– There is one secret I never told anyone until I told Brandon last December, and while I’m not sure if anyone else will ever know, knowing that he knows is a kind of freedom I didn’t know I could have.
– When I’m running at the gym, I am often screaming obscenities in my head (studies show swearing lessens pain). The only thing that keeps them from coming out is that I’m usually wearing a camp t-shirt and I don’t want people to see scripture on my shirt and hear obscenities from my mouth.
If you’ve made it this far, I’m impressed! 🙂 I’m not sure if there’s anything new here for you, or that it was so fascinating to read, but writing it was good work for me. A few things on there were kind of scary to share, but I share in hopes that it will help me feel less misunderstood and help me feel braver next time.
Posted on April 15, 2014, in Anxiety, Friendship, Growing Up, Intelligence, On Being a Woman and tagged Anxiety, Bravery, Confessions, Confidence, On Being a Woman. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.