As promised, I’m writing this while drinking gin. I have no plans of topics as of this very moment and won’t be editing at all. This is kind of like my version of Drunk History, only not actually about history because I skipped that class every day to go to pottery or drama. Sorry Mr. Spencer!
My husband of course, thinks that this is a very bad idea. I already have difficulty in the truth department. Not because I don’t tell the truth, I tell it even when no one wants to hear it, and sometimes it comes out with some bite to it.
I used to care what everyone thought of me, so much so that I found myself being a different type of person with different people. Not that I was being fake, trust me, I don’t do fake. I just only let people see the version of me that I thought they càould handle, or that they would approve of. It was exhausting.
I feel warm, lol. My husband has huge biceps.
Anyway… There’s a beautiful thing that happens in your 30’s, I mean it’s not an exact science, maybe it’s your 30’s, maybe it’s your 40’s, but whatever, it happens eventually, thank the freaking Lord. For me it happened over the last year. Maybe it’s my midlife crisis, I don’t know, maybe it’s just defeat. I am just so sick of not being comfortable in my own skin, but anyway, somewhere along the line, your Give A Sh*t meter, breaks. Or, at least it goes MIA.
We moved here (Tennessee, duh) a little over a year ago. We had just started over, three years prior, so I knew what I was in for. I knew how hard it was to meet new people, I knew how hard it was to make true friends, I knew it would take time. What I didn’t know, was how little interest I would actually have in doing so. I ran out of drive very very quickly. I just didn’t have it in me to fake it again. I didn’t want to be on my best behavior until I had made a strong enough connection with someone to let them see the real unedited version of me. I just didn’t really care this time around.
For a while, I felt bad about it. I knew that if I just tried harder I would find my people. If I just faked it a little more, my tribe would come. But then I kind of realized, how the actual F are they my tribe if I have to fake it at all. I don’t want fake friends. I don’t want people in my life that I have to be the edited version of myself around. I want the people in my life that I can Snapchat my make-up free face with a double chin and a messy bun, still in my bed at 10am with a caption of, “This is as good as it gets today,” and they respond with, “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”
My dog just farted on me.
Why are we editing ourselves? Why do we post our perfect lives on Instagram or Facebook or whatever other stupid ass social media, while we cry ourselves to sleep at night. I mean, I do it too, but I also go out of my way to post ugly me so that I can keep it real. Yes, I can be pretty and I definitely want everyone to know that, but yes, I can also look like a complete garbage human that you can smell off of your screen as well, and I make sure to post that shiz too.
Here’s the thing, this life is so hard. The people you put on a pedestal fall, hard. The people you love, die. The people you grow, leave. The people you trust, betray you. There is no time for being fake. There is no room for lies.
We’re watching The Darjeeling Limited, it’s basically the story of my husband’s life.
We go through legit horrible difficult stuff. We need real, true, actual, friends. How do we expect to find these people if we refuse to be honest about who we really are?
I love Harry Potter, and I have a foul mouth, and apparently I drink too much when given the opportunity. I love Jesus, and my husband, and my children, but a lot of the last year I have spent wondering if I should wander into the woods and never come back.
Paul just said my name out loud and I’m not gonna lie, it sounds weird. “Bethany.”
Honestly, if I wasn’t real with the few people in my life that I am real with, I wouldn’t have made it.
My kid just said you could smoke scorpions. IDK.
I am a girl who holds a grudge. Seriously. I will friend for life but if you burn me, I will light the match and watch that bridge burn behind me, peace the F out! I hold a grudge. But also, I have learned that sometimes, the path of least resistance is also forgiveness and that your tribe isn’t actually perfect, and that sometimes your people need a second chance. The people that are there for me right now, are second chancers. They aren’t new, fake friends. They are the friends that know me, know me, and I am grateful for them.
Ok, and also, let’s embrace the thick thighs already. There’s more to life than being perfect. The one that loves you will love you even if you just freaking relax and enjoy your dinner already. Don’t give up on being better, just give up on being perfect. Life is too short to regret everything, order dessert, you could die tomorrow even if you don’t.
To quote my favorite author, “ Let people feel the weight of who you really are, and let them f*cking deal with it.” -Tarryn Fisher
Seriously, let them f*cking deal with it.