Monday, February 25th, 2008
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 my husband & 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. Not because I find pleasure in smiling at a dead body; nor is it because I enjoy hearing racial slurs or fighting with my husband. 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 & 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. 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 then 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…
on Monday, February 25th, 2008 at 9:11 pm:
When you’re honest with yourself, you start living authentically. And in my opinion, that’s the only way worth living. I really enjoyed this honey, I can’t wait to read more. =)
on Wednesday, February 27th, 2008 at 3:03 am:
Good for you, a very admirable & honest post.
I think everyone feels that way about the inside of their head…it can be a scary place for sure! ;)
on Wednesday, February 27th, 2008 at 7:53 am:
This is great apricot! I remember when something first clicked in me in regards to being honest with myself, the pursuit of truth, valuing truth, etc… Once you go this route, it only gets easier and brighter because over time you filter out more and more garbage and your view becomes clearer.
I’m always delighted when somebody comes to this realization. It’s practically enlightening.
on Thursday, February 28th, 2008 at 10:34 pm:
I know someone who does the same thing–my best friend, Miranda, so I can relate to what you’re saying here. She has been a friend of mine for almost 15 years. I didn’t understand why she reacted that way in the beginning…But over time, I just got used to it. I think that you have shed light on an interesting reaction, that most people don’t understand, and would not accept. It actually makes perfect sense, the way you shared your thoughts/feelings…Pleasure reading, thanks for sharing!
on Thursday, March 13th, 2008 at 2:44 am:
I do this, too. Not at funerals, but sometimes when i’m talking about sad, tragic, and disturbing things. I think it’s a coping/defense mechanism.