nunc coepi

At 38, I ought to be comfortable admitting a few things about myself. Years ago, I wrote a lot of nonfiction essays that were typically personal and confessional in nature, and I was quite comfortable with it. But I'm out of the habit, and in the last few years I've noticed an unwillingness to be so honest about my foibles and shortcomings creeping even into my own thoughts about myself; a drawer pushed shut on facts about myself that I would rather not acknowledge. That's no good; it keeps me in error about my own habits and nature. So let me see if I can still do this trick.

1. I'm not the mom I thought I was going to be. The no-screen-time mom, the always present, always engaged mom, the mom who pre-planned activities and crafts and outings and playdates for every day of the week so that there was never any question of what to do, the mom who spent her down time coming up with fresh ways to explore and play with the toys we have. That mom is not me, and though I still look up to her and want to be like her, I'm not sure I ever will be that good of a mom. I definitely let the boy watch TV, and sometimes too much of it, though I'm trying to be conscious of it and redirect us when I'm aware we've had the TV on too long. When it seems like we're getting out the same toys to do the exact same thing we always do with them, I start to flail internally and then get distracted from playing by trying to invent something new to do with them on the spot. Sometimes I think trying to be That Mom gets in the way of being the mom my kid wants and needs in the moment. Sigh.

2. I spent too many years trying out too many different religions. Partly this is an acknowledgement that I should have gone back to the Church and become Catholic 12-odd years ago, that I knew back in 2013 at the end of Dr. Anderson's Dante class that that's what I ought to do, but I ignored this and for dumb reasons went the wrong way on purpose. And partly it's admitting that for a few people in my life, my decision to become Catholic, which for me is me finally doing the right thing, looks like I'm just yet again  trying out something I won't stick with for more than six months to a year, though I will insist on basing my entire personality and possibly my wardrobe on it for as long as it lasts. I know how it looks. 

3. Converting to Judaism, as I did only three years ago, was a huge mistake, and that decision will possibly ruin some already delicate relationships I have with my husband's family now that I've become a Christian again and specifically a Catholic. And if my mother-in-law cuts me out of her life whenever she does learn about my reversion conversion, I might honestly deserve it.

4. I've spent a huge chunk of my life reflexively doing and saying what I think other people want me to do, and then later on, after great spiritual and mental strain, I realize and admit what I actually want to do and how I actually feel, which always seems to come as a shock to said people. I think this probably makes me look flakey and maybe even duplicitous, and I can't stand the thought of either, because at base I still care what others think of me even though it's never done me any good.

5. For all that I love being Catholic, I don't go to mass or confession enough. And even though I mean to start making those things a priority, I keep finding reasons not to get up early enough on Sundays or try to make it to the confession times. I want to change this. But also, it's uncomfortable.

6. I've wanted to be a religious sister, off and on, for most of my life, before I ever thought of becoming Catholic. And even though I love being a mom, and I love my husband, and I can't imagine life without my son, I still daydream about being a nun, and then I feel guilty for it.

7. Sometimes it feels like all I ever do is start over, over and over again. My chosen career path. My religion. My name! The place(s) I want to live in, and what kind of lifestyle I want for us. I worry this means something is deeply wrong with me and that I'll never be able to settle anywhere or on anything, and that as a result my life will never be good and I'll never have good things