Sigh. This isn’t going to be one of those feel-good posts — you can probably tell that from that “sigh” at the beginning of the sentence. I put it there for emphasis. Emphasis
of for the fact that this would all be really funny if it weren’t happening to me.
I had a realization tonight as I was sitting on the throne. (I’m sorry for the crude reference, but all my really superb and deep thoughts come to me when I am seated on that lovely porcelain chair, isolated from the cacophony of my children and bereft of any writing utensils.) I am just not the same person I was ten years ago. Oh, the flesh and bone part is still the same…except there’s a
little lot more flesh than there used to be, a few more wrinkles, and a heckuva lot more gray in my hair, but the part that used to make up the ME that people would search me out for…that funny and imaginative part? She’s gone…and I don’t know exactly when or where I lost her.
I have become such a serious and responsible person, bound by duties and obligations, deluged by a constant pressure to be a “perfect” mother, teacher, wife, daughter, and friend. I am not perfect, nor do I really want to be…it’s just that I want a little part of the “old me” back.
I’ve been missing her. She had some killer sharp wit, and she was good at flirting (hey, you can flirt with your husband, right?);she knew how to throw her head back and laugh one of those deep throaty Lauren Bacall-ish laughs (without choking on her own spit — don’t ask)…and she was crafty and wise and didn’t mind sharing her skills with others.
Thing is, I didn’t even realize I had let her go until tonight. It’s so cliche to say it, but it’s true — you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. I simply must reacquaint myself with her…maybe meet her for lunch one day. I miss her. My kids have never even known her at her best. Oh, and would they ever love her! My husband might even like to see her again.
I honestly don’t know what brought this on…and I might regret hitting the “publish” button in a moment, but I really needed to get that off my chest. I feel so much better now that if it wasn’t for my superior willpower, I might be exercising instead of writing about the me that almost wasn’t.
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