There have been a few new developments in my life over the last week. I haven’t shared them with anyone and I don’t plan to. I’ve made a few comments on other blogs lately regarding my need for privacy and how I don’t share the intimate details of my life with anyone and how no one knows I blog.
I’m thinking now … why all the privacy? It used to be that I would just not share when bad things happened. I never wanted anyone feeling sorry for me. Or mistaking the fact that I was sharing with a request for help. Now, I don’t even share when good things happen either. How weird is that? Probably because I’ve come across more haters than genuine people who want to share my joy.
I think part of the reason is that I don’t want anyone’s opinion clouding my judgment. Everyone always has something to say and most times I just don’t want to hear it. It’s different here in blogland though – I love to receive comments! Of course, here in blogland I don’t really know you guys and I don’t feel like I’m being judged. The comments are objective and if someone disagrees with me they either don’t comment or they do it in a respectful way. I remember when I left my first husband, the bigamist. I made that decision quick, fast and in a hurry. At the time, my mother told me that I had her full support. Come to find out, she told my sister that she thought I ran out of that marriage too quickly and I should have given him a second chance! What the hell? First of all, what the hell are you talking about … give him a second chance? Secondly, why didn’t you tell me that? You know what I took from that experience? That just maybe I cannot trust what my mama says to my face.
I think I have one friend (Mark) who actually can criticize me objectively – and I actually appreciate his feedback. When I told him I slipped up a while back and had sex with B in the back of a limo he didn’t judge me. All he said was “Damn girl! That shit is serious. Now what?” And he accepts the answer, "I don't know" without question. Whereas, if I had shared this information with my baby sister she would shake her head disapprovingly and tell me how stupid I am. My older sister would have grinned like a damn Cheshire cat and ask me when we plan to go ring shopping. So, I just keep my mouth shut.
Another factor that plays into my need for privacy is the fact that I have a hard time being accountable to anyone but God. I don’t feel any particular obligation to explain my actions to anybody. Ever. I am well past the age of consent and I can make my own decisions without any input from anyone. I’ve heard this described as having an internal frame of reference. I know a lot of people who seem to take surveys before they decide to go to the daggone bathroom. I grew up with a girl named Vicky who was probably the finest thing on the planet 25 years ago. Whenever we went out she would not leave the house until she asked everyone “Does this look funny?” It used to drive me crazy! Vicky could put on a Hefty bag and still be the most beautiful woman in the room. She just didn’t know it I guess. She had an external frame of reference – which means that she had to gather information from outside sources before she could make a decision.
It may sound as though I have something to hide. I don’t. I live a very quiet life. I work full time. I’ve been divorced twice. I’m raising two children. I take a dance class on Thursday nights. I like to drink a glass of wine with dinner when I’m at home and I usually order a cosmopolitan if I’m dining out. I go to church on Sundays. I’ve written two books. My relationship status is subject to change depending on what time of the month it is. Let’s see … what else? Oh yeah, I bought a new vibrator last weekend.
Not too much else happening. It’s dull but it’s mine. My life is not an open book, hell, even if it were I think most people would put it back on the shelf.
What is meant to be will be
