Me… and then some

A million years ago, I had a blog.  It was a nice little blog.  I called it, “Getting Naked: Baring All About Life.”  The masthead had a cartoon of naked sheep that I created with my very first version of Illustrator.

I wrote about everything—heartbreak, politics, religion, family—you name it.  My blog saw the end of a relationship and the beginnings of plenty more.  My blog ended a friendship—but it made me new friends as well.  My blog was there when I met my wife—and I think it may have even been there when she proposed.

Sitting at Starbucks writing blog entries gave me so many experiences that I never would have had.  Like sleeping with a barista more than 20 years my senior, and going camping with someone from another state who I barely knew.  (I never said they were particularly good experiences.)

Overall, my blog helped me find my voice.  It helped me find myself in a time when I really didn’t know who I was anymore.

Recently, I have found myself in a similar place again.  Not in the sense that I am heartbroken and trying to start my life over, but in the sense that I feel like I have lost a part of myself. 

Marriage, work, and the responsibilities that go along with them have taken over the past couple of years, and I have lost touch with the snarky redhead who could tie Paris Hilton, Chuck E Cheese, and groping teenagers all into a single post. My posts were tucked into categories like, “I got Drunk and ___” and “I Haven’t Had My Coffee Yet.” 

I miss that snarky redhead.  I miss the quick wit I used to possess.  Now, it seems that all I can talk about is work, the latest trouble our hound dogs have found, and how our weekend involves one family obligation after the next.

Where did I go?  I know I am in here, somewhere.  I’m probably even better than I was before—I mean, my 24 year old self thought that peach flavored Boones was good wine.

My name is Molly. I am 30 years old. I am married to the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known. We have two basset hounds, a vegetable garden and a back yard that is larger than our entire apartment. We are wine club members.  We are friends with our neighbors. 

I find it interesting that beyond those first couple of statements, everything I say about “me” starts with “we.”  There has to be more to me than my name and my age.


One thought on “Me… and then some

  1. Hi Molly. I fell into your post and got lost in your candour.
    Thanks. I started writing my blog, initially to find my voice, though I never would have articulated it that way unless I had read yours.
    I think that’s why I still write, but I have to say, I get a kick out of my “fans” (which are few, I think, but still…)
    Thanks for sharing.
    Here’s mine, if you have a minute….

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