Both Robin Farr of Farewell, Stranger and Tracie Nall of From Tracie wrote posts entitled Things I’m Afraid To Tell You (hashtag #TIATTY on Twitter) and inspired me. I read both yesterday. Robin and Tracie were incredibly bold and I thought to myself, “Crap, I can’t do that, but I sure want to.”
Then I woke up today and thought “Why not just do it?” There’s no good answer to that question. So without further ado, here goes.
*I’m afraid to tell you that I went to graduate school because I didn’t know what else to do after college. I’m afraid to tell you that I nearly shit my pants every time I met with my advisor because I worried he was going to kick me out of the program. Every time I got called on in his early Brit Lit class (there were only 5 of us), I wanted to shrivel up and die.
*I’m afraid to tell you that in my master’s program, writing a thesis was optional if you weren’t going for your PhD. I wasn’t, so all I had to do was take comps. I passed. But I never wrote a thesis.
*I’m afraid to tell you that when I get very anxious I pick at my skin, especially all around my fingernails. I also hold my tension in my left shoulder, which often aches. Both of these things tend to happen when I am in public, at a party or some sort of social gathering. When I have to be “on.”
*I’m afraid to tell you I have a lot of peach fuzz on my face and whenever I’m out in the sun (in particular), I worry people are thinking, “Holy shit, she’s hairy!” (thank you Dad and PCOS)
*I’m afraid to tell you that I look at other women a lot and compare myself. Which only makes me feel badly. I should stop doing it. I’m not modeling positive behavior for my daughters.
*I’m afraid to tell you I’m in a funk and I’m not exercising. I don’t have the energy or the inclination right now. I’m afraid to tell you there are people in my life who don’t understand this and it’s impossible to explain. So instead I just seem like a slug to them. They keep nagging and they probably think I’m lazy. Instead, I am writing or talking to my friends on the computer. Which is another thing they don’t understand.
*I’m afraid to tell you I hate my feet. They are not cute or small or narrow.
*I’m afraid to tell you that sometimes for a little while after I take my meds (for anxiety & depression), I feel like my head is floating up and away like a balloon.
*I’m afraid to tell you that D and I are going on vacation next week and when I think about leaving the kids (baby especially), I feel like I cannot breathe.
*I’m afraid to tell you that I’m afraid of so many things. I don’t like living in fear. I can be brave sometimes, but other times I make lists of 25 Things I am Afraid of.
*I’m afraid to tell you that I worry I’ll end up alone and lost.




