A series of small failures

Just tell the truth
December 13, 2008, 7:48 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

I’m not trying to host a pity party here. I’m not totally whining over some absolutely shitty things that have happened this year. I’m venting. And I am making an effort to tell the truth about everything.

My boyfriend Tyler said he’s been thinking about starting a blog. He thought of calling it “Be careful or I might say something true about you.” I realize I’ve been a little inconsiderate toward some people. I want to balance telling the truth with respecting others.

I grew up in a home where things were conveniently swept under the rug most of the time. When someone had cancer, I heard later than most. I asked my mom why no one had told me.  She said, “we don’t want to tell people about it.” I didn’t get it. Why hide something like that? When perhaps the person who had it needed support from others? Drugs, alcohol, abuse. Just like many, or most other families.

My mom asked why I wrote about the restaurant and Tom and feeling upset about being taken advantage of. “As your grandmother used to say, why would you want to air your dirty laundry?”  It’s called processing, Mom. And I think that there are lots of people who share the same struggles, who have the same issues. 

I want to learn from the past and from my own mistakes. All the bad things that have happened this year, from losing the restaurant, losing Cooper, being on the losing side in the fight for marriage equality, giving away Gogo, moving into my parents’ basement — these experiences are my teachers. Rather than burying them and not learning the lessons and having to deal with them again in some form, I’d rather process them, learn, and move on.


3 Comments so far
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I don’t think any area is “difficult” for you to write about. Respect doesn’t seem to be a word you know the definition of. Perhaps you are just airing the sheets, but you do it in a tacky manner. The way you handled this with Tom was embarassing. Do you see a positive side to anything?

Comment by vayann

Actually, writing about my own sexual abuse is going to be difficult. just so you know.

I see the positive side of lots of things. as I was trying to say, difficult people and situations are our teachers. that doesn’t mean that everything about them is negative. My experience with Tom was largely positive. I’m grateful that he suggested going to Puerto Rico on vacation. That was the beginning of a very positive life-changing experience. I’m grateful for the restaurant, even though it didn’t succeed. It was heartbreaking to experience that failure; however, being able to serve people in our community, making them delicious, nurturing food infused with love was worth all the icky parts. Putting those food charges on my credit card, which led to the spiral of debt, led to this new phase of my life. If I hadn’t moved here when I did, I wouldn’t have met my amazing boyfriend. And I’m so grateful to my parents for giving me this sanctuary. There’s a lot. You don’t have to read my blog, but if you did, I think you would see that there are a lot of happy things here.

Comment by jodimardesich

Gosh. I think I live in blogger-la-la-land where people I know don’t post cruel or unkind personal statements to or about me. Maybe I’m living in a world of rug-under-sweeping (or politeness – aren’t blogs a little bit like a party, where you don’t attend if you just intend to throw a drink on the hostess?!?)

Look, in a global sense, “families” (individuals and family groups) are in the midst of a complete overhaul in terms of privacy vs. publicity (or at least non-privacy). Older generations might be appalled by the level of disclosure assumed by younger ones, but it’s unlikely that genie is going back in the secret bottle. And Mormons, huh. Not many religions require a vow to hari-kari yourself if you reveal it’s secrets. Of course they are freaked if you participate in the secular, bloggy world that’s part self-psychoanalysis and part autobiography. But you aren’t doing it for anybody else…

At any rate, processing and disclosing and scratching at your own underhide is how you figure out what’s really inside that shell. Stuffing it down, not so much.

Everything inside you is beautiful, Jodi. Messy, painful, flourishing. I’m glad I’m here for your ride.

Comment by rebekah

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