Day Twenty-four: Full Disclosure

After a night out with acquaintances or a first meeting with friends of friends, I often find myself worrying over things that I said and the impression I might have made. I'm not exactly soft spoken so it might come as a bit of surprise to some to know that I agonize over the things I say, or more accurately, the reasons I've said them.

I'm not shy and I like attention. I'm also not exactly a delicate flower so I can hold my own in almost any conversation, though I'm particularly fond of sports, politics, and sex. I manage to work a preponderence  of swear words into any conversation and yes, I know that people view swearing as the lowest common denominator. Or is that sarcasm? Either way I am exceptionally skilled at both and often manage entire dialogues using only sarcasm and vulgar language. Criticize if you want, but it's a skill.

Anyway, my point is that I frequently talk about sex and disclose things most people don't. To me, it's not that big of a deal, we're all doing it -- well, not us married people, but the rest of you. Even so, I'm not afraid to step over the line and discuss blow jobs, swallowing, positions, techniques and man and lady-scaping. Sex trivia at a bar doesn't help me control those natural impulses, but the trip home does make me wonder if they are, in fact, natural impulses.

Is it possible that my behavior -- my need for attention-- is the driving force in my topics and disclosures?  Do I let myself talk about such personal matters or make vulgar jokes because I want to be noticed? Is my feeling of discontent and embarrassment afterward because I am ashamed what I've said. Possibly. Though I also have to wonder if maybe this is really just who I am. It's not like I've changed in twenty years. This is always how I've spoken. Maybe the shame is because others make me feel that way. I'm the one on the outskirts. I never quite fit in and never really want to, but it's still lonely out here.

I'm the girl who will admit to a threesome, or to being with another woman. I'm the girl that's not so much a girl anymore, but still enjoys joking about sex and making a spectacle of myself for the sake of shock value. I don't mind that you know these things and I think it's the fact that I don't mind, that I don't view it as baring my soul (so to speak) that is making me feel weird after the fact. It's not that I am acting out of character, it's that my character is out of whack with all of you.

The secret that I have always known and that for some reason seems to escape the masses, is that simply telling you about my exploits or joking about things not normally discussed in polite society is not the same thing as letting you see who I truly am. I am not sex or politics. I can talk about breakfast, but it won't make me a pancake. What I say and how I act are absolutely signs of who I am, that I will not deny, but those things are not ALL that I am.

I think I feel badly because I know you judge me. You raise your eyebrows and decide that either I am one wild chick or else you shake your head and think I am one wild chick. You either approve or disprove, but you've come no closer to knowing me as a person than that I am somewhat fearless in conversation, I've lived a little more than some, and I'm not shy. Somewhere beneath and around and through all that, is me. You've missed a lot. I cannot pretend that I will never have that uneasy feeling again, wondering if I said too much or made an ass of myself, but I'm going to try hard to remember that I'm not putting on a show, that this is just me.

I think to some extent we all modify our behavior over the years as people come to expect certain things from us. At some point we may begin to wonder if we are the way we are because that's what we've been labeled or if it really is just us. Well, I think I'm getting to the answer of that question, but it's not easy and there are definitely nights when I wonder if I should have just held my tongue about the size of the husband's goods. Just because someone makes a joke about it and asks the question does not mean I have to oblige. I could talk about politics or sports and not feel nearly as shy or anxious about it later. Then again, so what if he's got a big package. Does telling you that somehow make me scandalous?

I guess we'll find out soon. Sometime around the hour when close friends, family and the husband get around to reading this blog, because while most people are shy talking about their personal business, they somehow are never too shy to chastise you for yours.