A Goddess in a Cave in the Woods

I played hooky today. I had to go get bloodwork done, and had a couple of errands to run, and since my husband was working from home, he suggested that I do all of my errands and have a fun day without the kids.

It took me all day to realize that the dull ache in my stomach and the wrinkle in between my eyebrows meant I was repeating past mistakes.

I still remember sitting cross-legged on the floor of the choir practice room, my back against the itchy carpeted wall (yes, I said wall), my butt numb, my foot falling asleep. I’d have my school books and folders and spiral notebooks with me, and I’d do a bunch of reading, complete some long overdue homework, study for a test or doodle flowers all along the margins of my pages.

All of this while whichever class I was skipping went on without me, while whichever assignment was due got turned in by the rest of the class, while my teachers noted my absence in their neat and orderly attendance record as an “x” in a row with too many other marks.

I was playing hooky, hiding in the musty practice room, not to do something fun, but to avoid something decidedly not fun – the admission that I hadn’t finished an assignment, hadn’t studied for a test, hadn’t prepared for a presentation. I was buying myself some time, or just an avoidance of that day’s confrontation and look of disappointment.

Today, I had my blood drawn, I took myself out for a sushi lunch, I got my toenails painted. I also drove around somewhat aimlessly, searching for the cure or just an explanation of this feeling of dissatisfaction. Surely spending the day in quiet contemplation was the solution to what ailed me, right?

And, like I said, it took me all day to realize exactly what I was doing. I was avoiding the negative thoughts, the necessary difficult tasks, the personal conflict I always wish so desperately to escape.

I’ve made a pledge, a promise, to be my honest self, even when my honesty makes other uncomfortable. And I realized today that that includes when my honesty makes me uncomfortable.

I know I’ve let people down. I know I’ve lost friends. I know I’ve angered loved ones. And I’m absolutely certain I will do it again and again. I’m not perfect, and being an honest person isn’t easy. Doing what I want and need to do for myself instead of doing what everyone wants me to do is very difficult for a reformed people-pleaser. And it’s time to come to grips with that, and stop wishing for a magic solution that will make everyone like me. That is the fantasy wish of a small girl who believes in fairy tales.

This grown-up girl loves the fairy tales, but I see them for what they are now – fiction.

Now here’s hoping this ass-kicking princess can write the rest of her story to include adventure and love and friendship, all in one entertaining true-life autobiography.

I’ve been thinking a lot about honesty, lately.

Let’s be honest. Some lies are very useful. As a teen, the blinders that kept me from acknowledging my mother’s alcoholism also allowed me to not be overcome by anxiety, grief and depression. The lies were self-preserving as I took care of my sister and brother and kept going to school and kept pretending I had a normal life.

I applied to colleges. (Well, at least I sent in applications. I only fully completed the process for one school, my back-up option, the in-state university I knew I could afford with loans.)

I acted in school plays. (And spent extra-long hours working on lights, rehearsals, sets, so that I didn’t spend as much time at home.)

I sang solos in chorus. (And when my mom was so drunk that she forgot to come to my senior concert, I made up lots of excuses. None of which I actually believed that time.)

But, truth eventually snuck in. It always does, doesn’t it? It hits you right in the middle of the chest. You can’t breathe, the world tilts, and your carefully constructed facade begins to crack. Sometimes you’re able to patch it up again, twist the truth away into more falsehood, protect the fragile you inside the walls.

The break comes when you start to question what exactly you’re protecting. I did that, and very slowly, painfully, I began to learn how to be honest.

I learned that my life isn’t always easy, but it’s always an interesting adventure. I learned that the real me didn’t need any embellishment. I learned that if you let people see you as you truly are, and they still like you, it is much more rewarding and amazing and humbling than if they like you for some false self. And, most importantly, I learned that there is freedom in being honest.

I struggled for a long time to fully embrace honesty. That’s why I say my honesty was hard-won, and why I’m not willing to give it up.

Over the last year, I’ve brought honesty to a whole new level within myself. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I truly don’t believe in a god. That I put my faith in people, and in love, but not in god. I’ve come to accept that I really want everyone to get along and for there to be no conflict, but that isn’t realistic. I’ve realized that the pseudo-science I grew up accepting is false and often dangerous, and that I’ve made mistakes in accepting the heartfelt convictions of others over the evidence of science. I’ve embraced that the fairy tales I grew up believing aren’t quite true, and that love isn’t as easy as one rescuer knight on a white horse taking me away from all of my problems.

And do you know what? It’s been very painful at times to be honest, to accept my mistakes, to change my mind, to let the real me be enough. Especially because my honesty makes some people uncomfortable. There are people in my life that preferred me as the pleasing liar. Or who approve of my honesty, but only to a point. Those people feel that there are some things that just shouldn’t be discussed, shouldn’t be admitted, shouldn’t be. Unfortunately for them, honesty is all or nothing with me. Hiding and dishonesty is a slippery slope, and I’m not willing to give up the real me I’ve come to adore, just to make people more comfortable.

Oh, I try not to shove all of my truth in your face. I don’t think I’m aggressive or argumentative. But if you ask me my thoughts, or my beliefs, or if you want to know more about me, then, yes, I’ll answer honestly. Always. Probably in a long-winded manner. And the truth may be more than you’re comfortable knowing. But, and this is important, I respect your right to be honest, too.

Disagreeing with someone I care about, or facing rejection and disapproval because of my honesty, hurts. It hurts a lot. But I’m not willing to close off to protect myself from the pain. I’ll put myself out there, I’ll feel it all. And it’s all worth it.

Because this is me. This is who I am. And honesty makes me feel free.

As I type this blog post I am sitting in relative cushiony comfort inside a metal tube at an altitude of 36,500 feet. According to the little animated map display on the screen in front of me, I am 719 miles from Halifax, Nova Scotia, where I hope to land safely in approximately an hour.

The cute little plane icon is over the blue colored area on the map, therefore we are flying over the water, southeast of New York City, if the data are to be believed.

Of course, by the time I post this, I’ll be safely on the ground, and the soles of my shoes will have touched the land called Canada for the first time.

I’ve traveled a bit, including internationally, but I’ve never visited Canada. Why now, you ask?

Love.

(Isn’t that the most perfect answer to any question beginning with the word “why”?)

In this case, I am traveling to witness a declaration of love and commitment made by two dear friends.

These friends, Jodi and Jason, will be wed on Friday, February 5, 2009, and I will be there to see it. All because of love… and the Internet.

I’ve never met Jodi and Jason in person. Neither has my dear husband, though he’s known them both longer than I have. He met Jason online, liked him, followed Jodi’s adorably geeky proposal via a blog chain… (just pretend I told you the rest, okay? Otherwise this could get long) …and then I followed them both on Twitter and realized just how super fantastically awesome they were! And the rest of our friendship is history!

When we received an invitation to their wedding, we knew they probably meant it as an honor, and were hoping we wouldn’t come but would send a large monetary gift.

Bah! Why follow convention?! Let’s leave our kids with family and friends for four and a half days (something we’ve never done for longer than one overnight), and fly to Canada for the wedding! That’ll show them!

As it happens, we developed an online friendship with another couple, Sophie and James, who live in Nova Scotia as well. So, clearly, we thought… Hey! Let’s visit them too. After all, we’ll already be in Canada for the wedding!

And actually, I had a list of other Canadian friends I’d love to meet in person, but apparently I have a poor grasp of geography and the concept of “Canada is effing huge!!”

So we’re winging to Nova Scotia- for love, for friendship, for adventure, and for the amazing opportunity to connect with people who were unknown 1s and 0s not long ago.

And when I hug each of my friends, and look into their faces for the first time, I’ll feel grateful, and full of love.

Thank you, Internet. Thanks for the love.

Today is a Wednesday. There’s nothing particularly significant about this Wednesday, but on this crazy ride we call life, every day should be significant, shouldn’t it? So, in the interest of preserving the history of Jenny Wadley, I present these facts for your amusement and pity.

Today I:

• Woke up in bed alone
• Heard my daughter cry
• Had a fight with my husband
• Debated the necessity of the potty with a three-year-old
• Made up with my husband
• Sang Code Monkey
• Went to the laundromat
• Stuffed $20 in quarters in my pockets
• Taught math via coin-operated washing machines
• Did eight loads of laundry
• Talked to a long-distance friend about visiting
• Fished a plastic heart out of the toilet
• Found some presumed missing mail under the seat of my car
• Cleaned up smeared chocolate with a baby wipe
• Cleaned a poopy bottom with six baby wipes
• Waited in line at the utility department
• Explained a water meter to my seven-year-old
• Used the last three quarters to buy bubblegum
• Spent two hours in Target
• Literally begged my children to behave
• Bribed my children
• Spoke sternly to my children
• Took my children to the potty
• Took my children back to the potty
• Allowed my children to try on a woman’s zebra-print dress
• Adamantly refused to purchase zebra-print dress for my son because it wasn’t in his size
• Held my ground
• Decided that my perfect job is evil henchman
• Contemplated buying a Starbucks coffee
• Reminded myself that I am no longer spending $5 on a cup of coffee
• Listened to repetitive vocal sounds over and over and over
• Asked my daughter to please get up off the floor and let the nice lady push her cart down the aisle
• Picked my daughter up off the floor while she screamed
• Bought myself the damn coffee
• Took my children back to the potty
• Didn’t scream when a $5 cup of coffee was poured down my thigh
• Ignored stares of horror
• Smiled helplessly at looks of knowing pity
• Drive home while breathing deeply
• Received words of wisdom and wonderful news from a dear friend
• Played a game with my kids
• Heaved a big sigh
• Held an origami butterfly
• Told my husband I love him
• Found peace
• Lost peace
• Wept
• Smiled
• Felt loved
• Loved

The most wonderful thing I’ve experienced in 2009 is the absolute joy of feeling that I am completely and honestly myself, without excuses, without regrets. I am all me – geeky, sexy, loving, creative, smart, funny, dorky, sweet, and real. -my answer to a formspring question asked by a friend.

2009 has been the year of Jenny
I embraced myself this year. I decided to stop waiting for my life to be perfect, for my body to be perfect, for my relationships to be perfect, and I discovered that I am perfectly imperfect, just the way I am.

Times were hard
I faced very real, very depressing challenges – financial, personal and medical – and I overcame them or made friends with failure. I became angry. I became determined. I became confident.

Moments filled and overwhelmed my heart
I watched the Space Shuttle Atlantis break free from her earthly chains and power forth into the perfect sky, while tears fell from my eyes.

I gazed at the lifeless body of my cousin JJ, all alone in the funeral parlor, and felt the wave of love for him that allowed me to look away and decorate the area with evidence of his full and too-short life.

I witnessed my children grow, learn, and laugh, each second seeming too precious to be real.

People centered my world
I found Twitter. I made friends with fantastic, unique people from all over the world.

I deepened friendships of more than 20 years, and established bonds with new friends who touch my heart.

Life happened
I laughed. And giggled. And chortled. And snorted.
I kissed. I snuggled. I put cold feet on a warm body.
I wore sexy panties and short skirts. I wore pigtails.
I got a dog. I got drunk. I got laid.
I wrote. And sang. And danced.

I loved.
I lived.

And I am so grateful for it all.

Sometimes the best laid plans…

Christyne and Kim, please keep inviting me. I promise that next year, as usual, I won’t RSVP, but I’ll be there with bells on, and maybe something candy-cane-striped in a gift bag.

My sister, Keri, is visiting from Colorado with her family. Squeee!

Look, people. Get over it. I am a devoted, loving mom. I am also a damn sexy woman who feels confident and good about myself.

And you know what? I like wearing sexy panties!! They’re awesome! And I love wearing beautiful underthings to complement my beautiful exterior (and posterior)!

And know what else? I will not be defined or limited or caged by your opinions, expectations and prejudices!

I own my power! And that power is nurturing, loving, and sexy! (Those are NOT mutually exclusive!) And I have enough power to share it with the world!

So take that, haters! I feel good and beautiful and loving and sexy, and it has nothing to do with you!

It has EVERYTHING to do with me!

(Whew! Never had a rant quite like that. Feels good. I’m quite proud of myself.)

This has been a most wonderful, exquisite birthday.

So many people I love and respect sent good wishes and hugs my way, I am surrounded by warm fuzzies.

It is fitting that the last day of the month, and therefore, the last day of NaBloPoMo, is my birthday.

It allows me to celebrate myself and my accomplishments, but also to fill my heart and my blog with gratitude for all of the generous people who gave of their time, and of themselves, to help me celebrate, today and every day.

So this post goes to you- my friend, my family member, my follower, my reader. Thank you for listening and for letting me know I am heard. <3