I have lived a life so completely outside the realm of conventional.
I have written about my personal experiences with everything from rape to being tall to miscarriage to love to my parents. There is one very big thing I have never written about here. It spanned years of my life and is an integral part of who I am.
I have been treating it like a secret in my blog, even though I have promised to tell the truth. I’m not lying, just omitting about three years of highly unique and unexpected experiences. It’s the opposite of a secret. Basically everyone in my life – outside of those who have entered in the last year and a half – know about it. So why haven’t I written about it?
I thought for a long while I didn’t write because I was protecting myself. Around here, I am. I’ve never been ashamed of it, but it’s not the only thing I am. I don’t want to be judged solely on this. That’s not why I’ve stayed hush-hush. Really, I haven’t written because in a way I’m trying to protect those close to me.
People don’t have the balls to confront or criticize to my face. Those who do, well there’s nothing they can say I haven’t heard before. It doesn’t bother me. I accepted it as a side effect from the moment of conception. It has caused so many problems, but I grew as a person. It was my choice (this is questionable, though) to make and the consequences mine to deal with. People who suffer most are those close to me. They have to deal with the stares, the questions, the snarky comments, and really any and all slander. It hurts them to hear and watch. My best friend has been on the receiving end of many questions and comments. She has come to my defense every time. My family has to worry about the consequences of people knowing whether it is physically dangerous or emotionally. It did the most damage to the love of my life, my ex. He was my partner as I went through it. He stood by me. He defended me. He held me. He helped me. But it forever changed him and I, possibly irreparably. They didn’t choose this. They chose me, and this is part of who I am.
I would tell you here and now, but that’s just no fun. You wouldn’t believe me anyways. It is so incongruous to my life, my education, and mostly my personality. Most assume I am ashamed, but that’s just not true. I’m quite proud of it, in an odd way. I’m braver, tougher than you think.