I know. I know. That title. It’s crass, crude! Rude even. But it’s true. That’s what’s been happening since the first week in November.
I’ve been healing.
Once I knew I was pregnant, I started keeping a diary for my child. I wrote to her all throughout the pregnancy. Then, once she was born, I kept up with it. Not to be morbid, but I’m old. So, I thought once I die, she could have this catalog of journals.
I write about little things and big things. I tell her what sh’es into lately, or all about the trips we take.
But on November 10th, I made a different entry.
Before I share this with you, let me be clear. I’m not sharing this to argue about it. It’s not that you’re not encouraged to post your thoughts. You always are. It’s that I don’t want to be talked out of my feelings. I’ve moved on. I moved on by allowing myself the right to have my feelings. And like any wound that heals…it’s not cool to rip it back open. All of us are entitled to feel how we feel. I never want to talk you into how your should or shouldn’t feel.
So why am I sharing this? Because I love you and I want you to know me. The best way to know me is to share what I feel. And I want to know you, so please share what you feel. Just know that we all feel what we feel and that’s totally how it should be.
Here’s the journal entry…