Honesty is the best policy, after all...

I have no idea how many people read this blog. I'm guessing about five readers. In all honesty, half of the time I post, I wonder if there is anyone else out there who is reading this besides my two cousins, my mother, and  two of my friends, Candice and Safa. I'm hoping that because my audience is on a limited scale, in addition to the fact that these five people love me despite my plethora of bad habits and flaws, I may embark further on my journey towards whole-heartedness aka being vulnerable. Disclaimer: This post is terribly, modestly, honest.

The life lesson that I am ever so buried in right now is how to be honest. Honesty seems to conflict with being kind more often than not. I have tried out "being kind" for several years. In some cases, it was exactly what I needed to do in order to keep peace and let go of the small crap that seems to get under my skin. But in other cases, I was doing friends and family members alike a huge disservice. I have become absolutely, horribly terrible at saying "No" when I need to give myself a break and voicing "Yes" when, indeed, something has hurt me or royally @#!*% me off to no end. It's a passive aggressiveness hiding in a counterfeit peacemaker's cloak. I also feel like I'm constantly walking on eggshells, making sure I always say the right thing, rehearsing future discussion points over and over, obsessing over how someone might react to something. It's exhausting. I'm tired of listening to myself think. Would I be bold enough to adopt a radical honesty policy? No way. That kind of transparency makes people around you uncomfortable. But, it is something that I need to practice more. I think it might move the mountains that seem to hedge my relationship path.

So, onto being honest. Here's your first taste. Brace yourself.

Nah, it's not that bad...but it's not something I'm proud of.

I have a huge swearing problem. I have never said the F word--ever--never ever ever. And never the Lord's name in vain--that's just crazy bad business. The D word and the A word and the H word...sometimes the S word...that's where my problem lies. It's more like tempered farmer swearing. But rarely does it actually make it to my lips. When something frustrating comes up, and I push it aside instead of managing my emotions...without fail it always ends up with me yelling inside my head and I habitually swear about whatever I'm furious about.

Example: We have had a lot of crap hit the fan. A lot. Financially, yes, in addition to a few other areas. I am going to reveal something that may shock the socks off of you. The second life throws us a curve ball, which then hits us in the head and then proceeds to explode, I have a crap-mantra that races through my head instantly.

It's George Clooney's voice whispering in duress:
" @#!*% , we're in a tight spot... @#!*% , we're in a tight spot!"

I have a George Clooney swearing problem.

So, enter my current life lesson. Steven and I, for the first time in the six years we have known each other, are being totally honest. There's a lot of ugly stuff surfacing...things that we were bothered about or didn't mention to the other person because we were trying to "be nice." Anyways, with all of that complete honesty coming out...there has been some actual swearing. (Gasp! I know...I am so human...I'm working on one flaw at a time, people...) In the past, if either of us swears, the other one gets all crazy offended and judgmental. With all of the honesty coming out...the swearing has become a bigger problem. It never happens in front of the kids. It's not our finest phase in life. I think we'll attack the dragon first and then address the demon later. 

With all of this honesty going on, I find myself easing up on being so harsh with myself and Steven, with others that I care about. Hopefully I'll keep the pendulum swinging back and forth until I strike the balance between being openly honest and appropriately kind. 

I remember a quote above a hallway door that I would see coming back from Miss Pineau's AP English class. I do confess that I have found it to be very true. And very freeing. Especially for one such as myself who has significantly less brain cells than when I was in high school, when remembering things was as effortless as breathing.