Fear Schmear!

It’s funny.  My mom just commented on my blog and I felt, almost, resentful at first.  Disgusted. Embarrassed.  Abused.  “Who is she to read my innermost thoughts and comment on them?” I questioned.  “Well, young lady,” I had to say to myself, “you did put them on the Internet.”

Yes, yes I did.

Talk about fearlessness.

But, her comment, the glimpse of my own work through my mother’s eyes, made me go back and read (yet, again) what I had written.

“Lies!”  I shrieked.  “It’s all lies!”

Only after my husband and son came running into the room to find me huddled on the floor trying to choke myself with a mouthful of blue feather boa, did I realize that I’d gone too far.  It was not lies that I was telling.  Not lies exactly.

I actually don’t agree with everything that I wrote in my last post.  Don’t agree with it now.  Maybe didn’t fully agree with it then.  But, I suppose that is the nature of self-examination.  The perspective shifts.  With mood.  With moment.  With further experience.

My mother’s comment started with:  “I am sad that you are so afraid to take steps.”

Me?  Afraid to take steps?  WTF?  Who does she think she is talking to?

Yes, I said that I was afraid of the highway.  I am.  But, afraid to take steps?  What, like an agoraphobic? Who is she kidding?  Or– and this is for my sister who doesn’t read my blog, thank God– Mom, you better check yourself before you wreck yourself!

Did I say that I was resentful?  Perhaps, I meant defensive.  Uh. Yeah.  Maybe.  A little.

After all, I did write:

I don’t give myself enough credit, don’t have faith that I can make the right decisions, that things will work out, that I can handle what might come before me.  I also can’t let go.

Okay, okay.  The absolute truth—at least the absolute truth in this very moment—is that as I wrote that I was questioning it.  I mostly think that I can make the right decisions, mostly think that I can handle what might come before me.  No, that’s a load of bull.  See?  Actually, I do know that I can handle what might come before me because I’ve handled a damn lot already and with style.  Well, not always with style exactly, but with some sort-of flare, maybe, hello?

Or, maybe, I’m backpedalling.  Maybe I’m shocked that someone might think that I am afraid to take steps even though I’ve said as plain as day that I am, well, afraid to take steps.

But, but, but…  I did also say:

I can learn to have fearlessness and faith.  Learn to let go, for myself, for others.  It is all already inside me.  It is me.  I have been called to action.

Here we go.  This whole being called to action business.   That statement was supposed to counteract all the prior moments in which I referred to myself as a yellowed lump of dead skin.  Here I really am! It was supposed to say.  Here comes the loofah!  For I have had an epiphany and I am called into friggin’ action!

And thus, all is resolved.

It is not resolved.  Being called to action requires action.

At this point, I was going to go into this whole business about how maybe my mother was trying to say something that she had been wanting to say for some time, about how she wrote “I am often puzzled as to why you feel the way that you do-so frustrated and lacking confidence…”, about how my sister is also always telling me that I’ve lost my mojo.  I was going to scrunch up my eyebrows, sass my lips, roll my eyes!  And, what was it, gnash my terrible teeth, roar my terrible roar?  I was going to laugh in their faces and refer to the paragraph above about how I really did believe that I could handle everything. I was gonna, I was gonna, I was gonna.  Errrrr—


There, I’ve cyber-screamed it!

I was about to list all the things that I am afraid to change and realized that it might be a tad too personal.  I will just say that, for self-preservation’s sake, I have been living in a bit of a dream.  I have been avoiding, blaming, and, in many ways, self-medicating.  I have lost touch with my true self.  I have, thanks sis, lost my mojo.

But, damn, am I working on it!  Ah-ha!  Steps I am taking!

So, no worries, Mom.  I’m on the brink of something big.






  1. Stephanie said,

    November 14, 2011 at 1:35 am

    Who doesnt read your blog??! You’ve already taken the first step…

    • Emily said,

      November 14, 2011 at 6:36 am

      So, you’ve stopped lurking around outside in the bushes. (That means, I guess you’ve been reading. I didn’t know it. And, now, you’ve spoken up.) And, thanks!

  2. Mom said,

    November 14, 2011 at 8:02 am

    get that mojo going…

  3. Kim said,

    November 14, 2011 at 7:03 pm

    It is much harder for me, personally, to hear the “truth” from family members (especially my mom! Yikes!) than it is from anyone else. That’s one of the reasons I’m so proud of you for putting yourself out there like you do, because it makes you so vulnerable to such “scrutiny” (I mean that in the best possible of ways, Mom, I promise!). Personally, I loved the last post. From a friend’s POV, I found it to be among your most honest, introspective, and open writings. The most “you” without regard to what others might think. Truthfully, I thought you had recovered your mojo! That being said, I was a bit sad at the “backpedalling” (as you called it!) here. Sure, there are perception shifts in self-examination, but in my humble, non-related-to-you opinion, you kinda lost some of that magic explaining yourself away in this post. Your just damned if you do and damned if you don’t, aren’t you?! 😉

    • Emily said,

      November 14, 2011 at 7:48 pm

      I completely agree with you! Thanks!

  4. Kim said,

    November 14, 2011 at 7:05 pm

    That should’ve said “You’re damned…..” NOT “Your” damned…. ” Jeez.

  5. Mom said,

    November 14, 2011 at 8:13 pm

    No more comments from Mom…

  6. Kim said,

    November 15, 2011 at 4:17 pm

    Nooooooo! Comments from Mom are far more valuable than comments from anyone else! They’re just especally hard to hear…you know, the truth hurts!

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