TwitterDec 08 2009
Lie, lies, lying, lied. . . Continued from previous posts on lying . . .
Con’t From these previous posts: “What’s that you say?? Total honesty??” and “Looooonnnnng history of lying. . .”
Lying is insidious. Someone that begins to lie for certain reasons, in specific areas over time can’t contain it. Without noticing it slowly creeps around and sends off shoots like vines on the side of a house. Left untended, they’ll cover the house and destroy it. That was me.
During the first 3 years of practicing raw honesty with John1 I felt like I was climbing a greased pole. Fear, doubt, and jangled nerves were my companions trying to convince me that this level of honesty was leaving me too vulnerable and threatened to destroy me. Time and again I feared the honesty would produce disgust, hate, doubt, John would never trust a word I said, and worse he would stop being my friend.
But in fact what I’ve discovered is the more honest I’ve been the more: love, compassion, understanding, and acceptance I’ve received, and John1 doesn’t hang up on me.
Honesty can hurt like hell,
but it builds, it produces life.
Now I’m a honesty practicing believer,
even if I can have my minor challenges here and there.
Everything takes practice. Practice makes perfect.
The important thing is, I practice…
So why all this? Well, I’m going to another level of honesty here in my blog…
Show you more of who I am.
As I have stated all along this is a journey: going “from housewife to film maker”.
Coming out of “housewife” has absolutely included, for me, coming out of lying. The first lie I had to admit to? “I’m happily married and my husbands loves and care for me.” I had stated it for so long it become my gospel truth. It was tough to even see it was a lie, let alone unhitch. That one was painful.
Facing this lie was just the first in a long line of lies. It freed up a lot. It was a major start down the path of old rusty lies. Unfortunately there had been the other lies, the new “creeping vine” lies… John1 hung up on both: old and new.
But enough of that for now, where I want to go is to this point: I’m concerned that as I write about my children today I may indirectly be propagating another lie: that I’m a super supreme mom without any kid issues. Doing it all right. Now what I write is real, honest, and true. It’s not letter perfect but it’s pretty darn good. However what you don’t see is that a big chunk of that “good” comes from my messing up with my first four. And what I live with as a result. Painfully learned lessons have produced the fruit the last four are enjoying with me now. Again I’m not perfect by any means, but boy am I the new and improved model. (But honestly I doubt they’ll reach adulthood without their complaints. Parenting is riddled with it’s problems even in the best of circumstances.)
The relationship I shared with the first four had a lot of good. We were tight. But it had it’s problems. I created issues that created rifts. I created pain for them. Since I was so opposite from my parents I had a very difficult time seeing the damage I had caused. But it was there just like a car that’s been in an accident and repaired. The car runs fine, it’s just that one door never quite shuts right anymore, and it’s getting worse . . .
That’s what tomorrow’s post will be about. Me being honest when it comes to my first four children…
If you’re to have a complete picture of me, an honest picture, then I need to get real. Get raw. Get honest . . .
Night, Love ya,
Theresa Jane
-wondering why on earth since this has been a mini series I didn’t title them all the same and number them…
