it took me a really long time to be able to talk about my parents' divorce. i think that there is still some part of me that fears that i will be judged by the family i come from. it makes no sense, but often times this world isn't fair.
sometimes i notice that it's so hard for people (myself included, duh) to admit that we're not perfect. that we have skeletons in our closets. we don't have a million dollars in our bank account.
i give my baby mucinex and dimatap even though the bottles say to consult your pediatrician first but a yahoo! search really sold me on it. maybe i'm not supermom? i just don't have all my shit together.
and why is it so hard to say that? what if we were all just open books? what if we shared our problems instead of keeping them contained in our hearts? wouldn't our burdens be a little bit lighter? wouldn't we maybe feel a bit more connected to our humanity and to each other?
lately i've been focusing on being authentic in the scariest form. being vulnerable. talking about the things that i don't want to. admitting my faults. sharing my secrets. being a real person with complexities and dimension.
my tenth resolution is to be vulnerable.
maybe this isn't a quick fix. maybe this is a life-long venture. but i'm okay with keeping at it.