It's about time...

I set this blog up months ago, but never actually wrote anything. I don't think I was ready.

A couple of days ago, I set my girls to writing about what was going on in their lives. The oldest two were told they could write "mental vomit"...meaning whatever was in her head, whether it made sense or not...just to get it out. I was told I should do the same thing. I still wasn't ready.

Now, I think I'm getting there. Sitting in a quiet house, our temporary home, with only the sounds of insects and the ticking clock (and computer keys), with sunlight pouring in...my mind is calm enough to start sorting out what is inside.

I've been lost for a long time.

(I've gone to look for myself. If I should arrive before I get back, please hold me until I return.)


The last four years in England, I have rarely felt comfortable being completely open about who I am to anyone, including myself. If asked, I'll say that I don't know what I'm afraid of, but that's not entirely true. I'm afraid of rejection. I'm afraid of being laughed at. I'm afraid of not fitting in and being left entirely alone.

Yes, I need my alone time, but I also need people to talk to. I need people to bounce ideas off of, and check that I'm not entirely crazy. (Sometimes that's an exaggeration, sometimes it's not.) I am, or at least used to be, a very strong, capable person...but a lot of that, I've come to realize, was also because I had an incredible support structure in a group of friends.

Like untying a knot, I could trace all (or almost all) my friends in Washington State back to one or two people. To a certain extent, even meeting my husband could be traced back to that one person. Within a few months of moving to Spokane, back in High School, I met Tina. I'm still not entirely sure how, but I think she showed up one day and didn't go away. She happened to be in Girl Scouts, and introduced me to the troop, which is probably part of how we ended up better friends. Over the next few years we were in marching band/flag team together, she joined choir to go on the choir trips, she got me into doing things with the community theater...where we later found the Renaissance Faire where I met my husband. She went to the Community College with me my senior year of high school, and it was the group of friends she found in the cafeteria that introduced me to the SCA. The biggest group of friends I had for the last few years in Spokane were all part of the SCA.

Moving from Washington to Germany was a bit scary, but also easy to look at as an adventure. I made friends there, again, largely through the SCA, but not as many, and not as widespread or as strong of a support structure. I depended a lot on the same few people.

Moving to England from Germany was another adventure, and another place we wanted to go. Unfortunately, my circle of friends and support structure shrunk to almost non-existant. I'm sure it was actually there...but I didn't feel as comfortable and connected as I had. I didn't know where to find the weirdos. Everyone I met was, or seemed, fairly conservative, so I kept a fairly conservative mask on...and seem to have lost a lot of what was underneath.

Ok, it's not lost, it's just locked up and I'm trying to find the key again.

I play "normal" well, but there are parts of me that are not as vanilla as a military spouse (or mother, or "good girl") is expected to be.

I feel like the "red-headed stepchild" both at Christian Bible studies and at Pagan study groups. I would like to go to both to learn, but tend to feel out of place. Yes, I know it's largely because I put on masks at both, and it's because, again, I'm afraid of rejection (or being reviled) if I admit that I have both Christian and Pagan beliefs, and that I feel the two are not mutually exclusive.

I was in the cast for the Rocky Horror Picture show, and I LOVED it. Yes, I LIKED dancing on stage in my underwear in front of a bunch of people. I was good at it, and loved the high of performing.

There are other parts of my life that are not "military acceptable", so they have been locked up pretty tightly for the last several years while we were living in a military fishbowl. Those are things I may or may not write about here, as I decide how public the blog is going to be, as I don't want anything I write to affect my husband's career. Still, they are part of me, and part of my life, and I need stop denying it, just because it's "not how good girls behave".

So, now that I've started, I hope to be able to keep this blog up, at least for the next few months. We're getting settled in a new place, so it's a time for new beginnings, or renewal. It's time to figure out who I am, and who I will be.