tonight after work, i went and got some food with some friends. during the course of our conversation, a comment was made in my direction about being a whore...now let me clarify, becuase if people who are not close friends of mine read this, that might seem harsh, but in our little circle we all call each other whores all the time, and it has no meaning...however, tonight, there were many conversations going at once, and when one friend called me a whore in a specific context, another friend was quick to jump to my defense. "just because she has a baby doesn't mean she is a whore" is what my friends rebuttal was. now normally, being called a whore is very close to a term of endearment, but the surrounding conversation, plus my other friends response, made it a bigger deal...all of the sudden i found myself to be VERY VERY emotional. i was on the brink of tears. i asked if we could please not do this, and can someone please change the subject before i start crying. while i was saying this i was laughing, but kindof in an "i am laughing as i struggle not to just loose it right now" kinda way. i know that my friend was not truly degrading me. i know he loves me, and there is a good possibility that he loves jack even more than he loves me :) but nevertheless, i instantly felt illigitimately pregnant, and trashy (again).
i remember when i first started telling people i was pregnant. i was probably about 3 months along before most of my family, and my closest friends found out. about 2 days after i told one of my lifelong friends, she made a comment to me *jokingly* about her mom asking if she could *jokingly* call me a slut, or something along those lines. at the time i of course laughed it off and said, hey, she can say whatever. but really i felt the same way then as i did tonight for a brief moment in time. again, i know that these people genuinely love and care about me, and would never have said these things if they knew i would take them to heart like that...
sometimes things hit our armour. sometimes when i get ready to go somewhere, and i am putting on makeup, i think of it as armour, or a sheild of some sort. if i have my mask on, people can't know what i am thinking, they can't penetrate and hurt me. when things hit me while i have my armour on, no big deal, i can laugh it off, and nothing effects me (affects me?) however, there are those rare moments, when my defenses are down, and i am relaxed, and all the sudden i get sucker punched, and suddenly i find myself dirty again. i find myself shamed. i find myself wanting to hide, like i did for so long. my immediate response to that whole situation was to run. i almost got up, and ran to the bathroom and cried. i didn't because i didn't want to cause more of a scene, and make it more of a big deal.
i hid for a long long time. i hid while john and i were in crisis, and then counselling. i hid when i knew it was over, but couldn't make myself say it out loud. i hid when it became public knowledge that yes, we were splitting up. during all this hiding, i got pregnant, which led to more hiding. i had jack, and hid for a little while longer. i am sick to death of running and hiding. i hate that i allow other people to make me feel small. i hate that i am such a pleaser that i would rather not make someone feel awkward when i respond truthfully, so i hide and i run and i lie.
