Being on the fence

I hate being on the fence. I hate the feeling of knowing the pros and cons of both sides of an issue, and not being able to firmly agree with ONE side. The unsettling feeling of being unsure is horrible.

And so, when it comes to the topic of Brian and I becoming parents, we are... on the fence! There are definite reasons that we do not want to be parents. Unfortunately, there are also definite reasons we do want to be parents. My anxiety stems from the fact that neither side is extremely compelling. Sure, our lives as we know them would change drastically. And of course most of our relationships (including our marriage) would change as well. But to quote my sister, "change is not the enemy". Really, it's not terrible.

I am glad that in regards to this whole topic, Brian and I are on the same page. We both agree that there are plenty of reasons on both the "to have" and "not to have" sides of this issue. And we agree on what those reasons are too. He hit the nail on the head when he said, "It's just that things are easier when they just happen, not when you have to anticipate it constantly." Well said my hot hubby, well said.

On the fence sucks. But I'm happy to be on the same fence with my awesome, sweet, hot husband.

Honesty: the best policy

Telling the truth can be easy, hard, scary, helpful, and sometimes it can even be healing. Tonight I was able to tell the truth about something that in the end made me feel very whole and a bit healed.

I was approached by an old family acquaintance tonight after playing a game of volleyball. As I was giving the quick "this is where my life has gone over the past 10 years" speech I could feel that one subject would be sure to come up. And it did. Below is the conversation we had. I'll call this woman Shelly for sake of anonymity.

Shelly: Well, it was nice to see you. Tell your mom I said, "Hi".

Me: oh, uh, okay.

Shelly: Oh, don't you talk to your mom?

Me: Uh, (and this is where I'm hit in the head with confidence) no. No, I don't talk to her.

Shelly: Oh, really?! Well, is she okay, are your parents still together?

Me: Yeah, I think so. I think they are still in Buffalo. I really don't have a relationship with them. I finally decided that enough was enough. It was too toxic.

Shelly: Oh. Hmm, well, how is your sister?

Me: Great! She and her husband are raising their 3 kids in Shakopee.

Shelly: Well, does she talk to your mom?

Me: No. Some terrible things have happened in recent years that caused us to make a break from that relationship. My mom has some mental issues, sicknesses that she doesn't address. She doesn't take care of herself, and is very toxic.

Shelly: Yeah! She and Suzy were always a couple of nutcases.

And this is where we move out of the subject and back into less heavy conversation. But it got me thinking about how good it felt to tell the truth. It was quite a weight lifted from my shoulders to not lie about my lack of relationship with my parents. And it felt even better to be open about why there isn't a relationship there. I don't have to lie to protect them. Her illness is not my fault, nor is it my responsibility.

It hasn't been, and isn't always, easy to not have my parents in my life. I miss my Dad at times. He and I were always close. I miss celebrating with him, and his advice.

And I certainly miss the mom I could have had. I miss the mother figure that would have been my friend and not my enemy. The mother who would have shared things with me, instead of selfishly ruining events. I miss the mother who wouldn't compete against me. I miss the mother who could have taught me life lessons on how to really love, and how to be a good friend. The mother who could answer any question I had about life, and one who would be proud of me. I miss something I never had.

But tonight it was healing for me to tell the truth. Tonight, honesty was by far the best policy.