Keeping Up Appearances

I'm guilty of putting up an image of what I want other people to think my life is like.  Most of us are, but are we willing to admit it?  Do we even see it?

When I was in the process of divorcing my first husband I thought "keeping it real" with myself and others meant complete honesty.  While honesty generally in the best policy, being too honest was a problem for me.  It wasn't just about telling the truth for me, it was about telling too much of the truth.  Not everyone needed to know why my marriage fell apart.  I didn't need to justify myself or tell them every detail about why it didn't work.  Being honest was a good first step, but learning to guard the details of my life was an important lesson as well.

I really struggle with the things I post and if they are appropriate.  Do I want people to know this about me?  Am I being too vulnerable?  What kind of message am I putting out there?  A lot of posts become drafts that never get published.  I don't want you to take me the wrong way.

Like you I am human and 100% flawed.  I judge people and people judge me.  I take things the wrong way and I get offended.  It's part of life.  I don't think everyone should think like I do (I also don't force my beliefs, religious or otherwise, on people) because then the world would be a boring place with only one train of thought.

Is there more to life than what I post on my blog and social media?  Absolutely.  There are struggles I don't write about, because not everyone needs to know everything. 

However,  I believe in putting my best food forward.  I believe in keeping up my own personal appearance because people will treat me only as well as I treat myself.  But how much of that is for my own self preservation?  How much of that is putting on airs?

Keeping up appearances... is it worth it?  Is it a projection of who you want to be or is it a refusal to let go of who you used to be?  At the end of the day are we more of who we want to be or stuck in the same patterns of putting on a lie of who we want others to think that we are?

Sometimes when I look at other people's lives it makes mine feel inadequate.  I haven't quite gotten it "together" like they have.  It's ironic when I first started writing this post I had no idea where I was going, but now I get it...  It's easy to see with eyes from the outside looking in because I only see what you portray.  I only see who you appear to be.  Just like you see me.  It may look sparkly and golden from the outside, but we all know everything that glitters isn't gold. 

What I want to be when I grow up...

This year marks 10 years from my college graduation.  I don't feel like I have done much with my life.  I don't quite remember the exact plans I had for myself.  (although I don't think they went beyond the summer after graduation)  But I definitely didn't think life would happen this quickly.

I was newly married (to my first husband) and reveling in the fact that after 18 years I didn't have to go to school anymore.  I thought I would take a break, get a job in an office and then go back to get my Master's degree when the time was "right."  That time still hasn't come.
  
I tend to look at other people's lives and measure mine at their standards.  It's not fair - to me or them.  I haven't walked in their shoes, made their sacrifices or saw their choices.  I see with eyes from the outside looking in.  I need to stop looking out and look inside.  I know every new year I think about how I can make my life better, how I can stop making excuses, how I can make my  own dreams real.  But it seems overwhelming... just trying to take inventory of myself and figure out just what my dreams really are.

At different times in my life they have been different things.  When I was in college I saw my end goal as being a Religion Professor.  I didn't have a plan of how to get there, I kind of just thought things would fall into place (20 something me was kind of a dreamer... with no concrete plans).  I married for the first time in the middle of my senior year, my husband at the time put my dreams of being anything but his wife on hold.  I can't blame him, staying home and being able to do whatever I wanted at my leisure seemed like a good deal.  (It ended up not being such a great deal, one of my very first "Everything that glitters isn't gold" realizations)


After I left him I held a few random jobs to make ends meet.  It wasn't until a few years later that I became really passionate about makeup.  I have worked off and on in the industry for the last handful of years.  While immersed in makeup at M.A.C. my dreams included one day being a Trainer, working in a fabulous city and doing celebrity makeup.

I still love makeup, but I don't feel like it's my "calling."  I don't dream of the things I did back then.  I'm not even really sure what I want to do and time is ticking away.  I'll be 32 this year and I have no idea what I want to do with my life.  It's frightening.

I thought I would have it together by now, that I would be who I would be.  But, it seems that in my measurement of my own life I just come up short handed...

I am overly cautious and afraid to take the necessary leap of faith and terrified of failing.  I don't want to be wrong.  But in protecting myself from these things, I am also holding myself back from amazing opportunities that I won't even allow myself to imagine.

Disclaimer: I would like to clarify here that I don't think my life is "empty."  The last 7 years have been full of some of the most amazing things I have experienced: the births of my children, marriage to my favorite husband, a handful of businesses, travel and the experience of life in its extremes.  I am grateful for the hard learned lessons as well as the blessings. 

Part of me...

"I felt like she loved me enough for the both of them..." As soon as the words came out of my mouth my heart sank. It was true. It had been true all those years. Because part of me still hated him. Part of me still hates him.

I remember she used to say "At least he doesn't hit me." As if somehow that would have been worse. I often thought it would have been better. Then she wouldn't have stayed and he would have been punished for his sins.

Instead she suffered. We all suffered. We are all wounded. Some more than others.   From the outside looking in it seemed normal. Just your everyday family. She made excuses for him.  He was that way because of how he grew up, he didn't mean what he said and so on and so forth.

Misery, they say, loves company. I often wondered why he couldn't see past his own misfortunes, why he couldn't forgive himself, why he couldn't just let go. I mostly wondered why he had chosen to be so angry. He seemed to despise our happiness, like we should feel the way he felt even though we never really knew.

He sacrificed for me, took care of me and paid my way. I know he loved me. I know he loves me. But part of me can't let go. Part of me hated him. Part of me still hates him.

This time

I have had an off & on presence in the blogsphere for almost 4 years.  It's been so sporadic that I can't even really call it a presence.  I've just dabbled here and there.  Apparently (as you have already guessed) I lack the discipline required to be a regular blog poster.  I'd rather this not be another failed attempt.  I don't know much about HTML or graphic design, but I know about words... so here we go... AGAIN!

I started my very first blog while I was living in Chicago in 2010.  I then attempted my next blog in late 2011/early 2012.  The third blog was created in 2012 to document my love of makeup & motherhood.  All of these have several posts, but nothing that I could run with.  "Everything that Glitterz" has been in my head and heart for a long time and on this second to the last day of 2013 I thought, why not?

There's nothing worse than regret.  Life is too short.  So here it is... my latest attempt to be a blogger.  I am a Mom, a Wife, a Daughter, Granddaughter, Sister, Aunty, Cousin and Friend.  I am a Stay at Home Mom to my two crazy kids.  My husband & I own a business.  I drive an electric car.  I live in the Pacific Northwest.  I grew up in Hilo.  I have worked as a Makeup Artist.  Reading was my first passion.  Writing my second.

I have a million siblings (okay, maybe just 6) and am the oldest.  One of my brothers is in prison and it has been life changing for all of us.  I'd like to be more organized and I wish I knew about interior design.  I feel an instant connection to people who own dachshunds and fellow electric car drivers.  I'm a 30 something year old taking each day as it comes.  I like sparkly things, but as we all know: Everything that glitters.. isn't gold.