Dear Blog

Dear Blog,

It has been 2 years, 10 months, and 13 days since my last confession.  I have since left my husband, or he left me, or, we left each other.  I'm not really sure.  I am sure, though, that I left him in my heart long before he left my house.  In the time he has been gone, I've learned some things about myself that I never really had the chance to find out while I was married.  Looking back on my life, even before marriage, I've never really spent any time single. It used to seem like such a dirty word....like lonely or sadness, but now that I've had the opportunity to actually spend some time learning to entertain myself, I've started to remember the person that was hidden underneath the weight of years worth of painful relationships.

I like to sing.  I like to sing everywhere.  I like to sing in the car, in the shower, at work, in bed, in the kitchen, wherever I can.  If someone tells me to "hush" or "shut up" I can punch them in the kidneys if I like.  I never knew I could sing until a friend took me out for karaoke one night in my early 30's.  After a proper amount of liquid encouragement, I sang "Son of a Preacher" to a crowd of about 5.  It was one of the most terrifying, yet liberating experiences of my life.  It opened up a well of music inside me that had been buried for a long time.  Now, I can't help it. If there's a song in my head, I'm going to sing it.  I also love Glee. Shut your fucking mouth.

I LOVE GLITTER.  I think glitter is great.  My husband had a near phobia of glitter.  He got into an angry rage if he found the stuff on or near his habitat or his wife.  I figured it stemmed from some untold childhood trauma, so I respected his need to keep sparkle out of our home for many years.  One of my first acts of rebellion leading up to our separation was buying some amazing purple glitter eyeliner.  This was after one particularly nasty fight that involved awful name calling and window breaking.  I don't respond well to name-calling.  Turns out, he didn't respond well to purple glitter eyeliner.  I wore that shit every day.  I loved it.  I still do.  I bought it in every color when he left.  I bought glitter body spray, glitter eyeshadow, glitter hairspray, and glitter nail polish.  Mind you, I've never been the feminine type, but since that man left, I glitter myself up as often as possible.  I love it.  It makes me feel like a frilly sparkle fairy, and that's bad ass.

I love being able to change my mind.  It is great that I can be as spazzy, flaky, and dorky as I want to be without anyone telling me to stop.  If you think I should stop, I don't need you.  I'm just me.  I don't need anyone else to define that for me.  I'm trying to do it all by myself, like a big girl.  If I want to wear clothes that don't match or that make my ass look huge, I'm gonna do it.  If I say I want Mexican food, then cook spaghetti, shut your hole.  If you think Buffy the Vampire Slayer is lame, and you don't want to watch it with me for the 50,000th time, there's the door...see ya.

These are just some silly things that popped into my head when I started writing, but on a serious note, I've really just started exploring some of the things most women learn about themselves in their 20's that I kind of skipped over.  I've always had someone telling me how to dress and what to say and where to go, when all along, I should have been making those decisions for myself, including the decision to get those people out of my life.  I've learned that life is far too precious to waste on days spent not being the person you want to be.  Even if that person changes daily.