Friday, September 11, 2015

So long, Farewell

Change can be difficult for everyone, in one way or another. Sometimes even positive change can cause a visceral reaction - like a deer standing transfixed, caught in the beam of on-coming headlights or a driver throwing their arm toward their passenger at the sight of a possible collision. What’s coming could be the best thing that ever happened to you, but it’s not what you know…so you react as if it’s the end of the world, dig in your heels, or do your best to sabotage it.
For two years I’ve been avoiding this place, this monument to who I’ve always been. I’ve stared at it, reached for it, once in a while…waiting for the words here to draw me back in and comfort me, to make me a part of the community I loved and needed. But the inescapable truth is that I don’t belong here anymore.
The person I’ve become isn’t a part of Calling People Names and I’m finally ready to accept that there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing shameful in becoming something you once swore you wouldn’t - a wife, a mother…again, a mostly functional member of polite society. I balked at traditional roles because they seemed antiquated and forced, and I was determined to fit no one’s mold or characterization of what a woman ought to be.
But here’s why it’s okay for me to become the cliché I once balked at: It’s genuine.
This year I turned thirty, got engaged, and am expecting a baby within the next four months. And I’ve been staring at this place, afraid to let it go once and for all because that would mean the transition is complete. I’ve really changed and all of these stories, conquests, thoughts, ideas…they belong to Her. The Old Me. She’s still in there, in all her salacious glory, but she belongs in the background now…a remnant to be shared privately reminiscing with friends, only vaguely with the husband when he needs reminding that he married someone that was once badass, and as a threat to the children – “I’ve been there, done that, and if I find out you tried on the t-shirt…I’ll kill you.”
So it’s time to say goodbye to this place, because writing here any longer would just feel like guest blogging or putting on a show. Maybe there will be another corner of the internet where I can start exploring this new woman – maybe she has something to say too. Or maybe it’s time to put the blogging behind me and write that novel.  Who knows?
Either way, it’s been a pleasure reading your comments and your blogs, meeting you and getting to know you. Thank you for being my audience, my confidants, and my friends.


Steam Me Up, Kid said...

God you're smart.

And I know exactly how you feel. I hope you don't delete this place though. Save it to read when you're 80.

Also, you're still badass.

Shopgirl said...

You are an amazing writer, I hope that you will never let writing go out of your life completely - blog or no blog. So glad to hear about these changes in your life, bittersweet is the goodbye though.

BrightenedBoy said...

It's been years since I've stopped by, but I always felt that your stories, while admittedly hilarious, only showcased the talents of a thoughtful woman who possessed keen observation. I hope you do give your new self a place to write some day soon. You'd have many who'd love to read those words.

justsomethoughts... said...

well, i've just come back and miss the old voices.

good luck to you, wherever you are, and whatever you're doing.

Philip Dodd said...

Just read this, prompted by your email today. Whatever your new life may be, don't desert your talent. Find time to write. I always thought that, of the five of us, you had the most natural voice to write something longer. Don't let that go. Best wishes, my friend.