my first attempt to be honest.

Yes, that’s what I want to do: be honest. I want to be honest without feeling guilty. I want to be honest without much regard to hurting anyone’s feelings. I want to be honest because, well… it is the best policy, after all. I have always struggled with this, partly because I never quite understood my own emotions & because I was often ashamed of my own thoughts. I think the best way to explain it is in this:

Ever since I was young — & by young I mean 5, 6, 7 years old — I have always had trouble with smiling when I feel bad, or when something went terribly wrong. I don’t know why I would do it but it was awful. I remember once when I was about 8, I went to a funeral of someone I had grown up with. It was an open casket & when I caught glimpse of his corpse, I wasn’t taken aback. I wasn’t even sad or frightened. I had a oh-so-subtle, but curious, smile on my face.

Another example was when I was in highschool; someone made a racial remark to my face in class, while my ex-boyfriend was sitting next to me. My ex-boyfriend jumped up, pushed this idiot out of his seat in full force & started screaming profanities at him… in the middle of class. Everyone was riled up & my ex-boyfriend ended up getting suspended. After they had both been taken out of the classroom, every stared at me, wide eyed. Someone asked, “are you okay?” & with all my might, I did the best I could to sound like I was frightened as well & said a meek, “yes” while trying to hide the fact that I was about to burst into a fit of giggles.

Or, lately, when I am at odds with Lover & it’s a very serious moment when we’re both staring at each other as if to say “Now what?”, I have to stifle laughter.

This isn’t because I find pleasure in smiling at a dead body; nor is it because I enjoy hearing racial slurs or fighting with Lover. Honestly, I think that when I am stricken with irony or confusion, my brain doesn’t quite know how to process it’s grief, anger, sadness, or fear, so… I smile. Growing up, I have always hated this thing about myself because I felt like it was inappropriate. The only times I would let it come out, full force, was when I knew someone wasn’t around. For instance, on the telephone, finding out that someone I know is getting divorce. Better yet, when MY own parents announced that they were getting a divorce, there I was: sitting on the couch next to my little sister trying not to smile or giggle, or even burst out in fits of laughter. Oh, the irony. Oh, the confusion. What a mess.

Now that I’m older, I feel like I understand these things a lot better or else I wouldn’t have been able to explain it the way I did just now. I understand that my mind doesn’t know how to comprehend bad news or bad times… so the best thing I can muster at the moment is a smile, or a laugh. A fine thing, too, because we all know that it takes more muscles to frown than it does to laugh. Hearing that doesn’t make me feel so bad, but I still struggle with this weird habit of mine.

There. I just admitted something that I have never honestly said on paper, to anyone’s ears, or even to my own self. (Other than scolding myself for smiling or asking myself, “why do you DO this?”) & because I have been honest it’s given me clarity as to who I am, what I am about & what moves me. This is what this blog is about, I suppose. I feel like I am at a place in my life where I have finally woken. As though my eyes have been shut for so long, blind almost, being led by people I trust rather than trying to make the voyage on my own with my own intuitions.

Quite recently this happened, the opening of my eyes. A few months ago, actually. I don’t know what provoked it or how it came about. It just happened & oh, how scary it was to be me. But, I have gotten used to the awkwardness of finding my own voice & now I am excited — instead of feeling dread or fear. I am excited to be honest & reveal myself to the world. I feel like what I have to say is intriguing. Really, if you only knew what goes on inside of my head…