Coming Out of Hiding
While I have no problem sharing my innermost feelings with total strangers who stumble upon my site looking for information about sinus cures or the location of the nearest Loman’s, I am surprisingly withdrawn and in hiding when it comes to relationships. Whoever I’m with has to pull information out of me with pliers that I would otherwise spew like a geyser all over my blog. While John Grey (Men are From Mars…blah, blah, blah) says that men go into their caves and women go into…I don’t know…a nail salon…I’m not sure (that guy is such a sexist idiot), I feel that if anyone is in a cave it’s me. Because I think, for me, sadness and loneliness is a place I go into to be by myself and get some privacy. I once read someone say that it’s like touching the bottom of a pool because it’s all upward motion afterwards. But the problem is that I can’t check into cave land as easily if I’m in a relationship . Growing up, I think I identified with more with my father, because up until a year ago I thought that women who went around whining about wanting marriage and kids (read my April blogs) were CRAZY, INSANE, and BORDERLINE PATHETIC. But having repressed my natural need for a committed relations with a soul mate (ideally, “The One”) and procreation, this past year it started to spring out of me like the aliens sprung out of everyone except Sigourney Weaver (until second or third sequel). So now I have to come out of hiding…otherwise, what is the point of having a conversation with anyone, period?
Just for today, I can come out of hiding.