I just finished writing a piece for xoJane. Which is super exciting for me, to have pitched them and gotten the “please tell me more!” email reply. It’s exhilarating. I spent the entire day just high on my own enthusiasm.
Until I started writing. And I thought, DAMN. This is some depressing shit.
I didn’t mean to be depressing. I really didn’t! Honest! But this seems to happen to me more often than not. I’m going for unique, fresh take, personal, and I end up with a piece that can only be described as, “That is seriously effed up.”
Sometimes, I’ll start to tell my husband something and realize about halfway through that what I thought was a quirky little anecdote is actually not normal or even in the same time zone as normal. I see it on his face. I get the “blink blink” look from him, and in that moment I know that I’ve yet again managed to take a sharp left turn from the relatively normal adult he has always known me to be and back to “before hubs” land, where some pretty crazy ish went down. Let’s just say I locked that down in the nick of time. (Love you, babe!)
And it’s not just the hubs. Although I have gotten better about recognizing the difference between Jenn normal and typical normal, I have been known to divulge some record-scratching tales in social situations.
So I am posting this as a warning. In a few days or so when I link up to my published piece, just know that I am okay. And that I am aware it is depressing as hell. And that I didn’t mean for it to be. But I’ll be damned if I don’t feel a bit like this:
I’m going to have to get okay with that.