The Lies I Tell Myself...

I think everyone lies to themselves a little bit.  Oh these pants aren't too tight, no body will care if I wear my jammies to the Wal-Mart, they won’t notice if I’m gone, {here’s the Mack daddy}  I’ll do it tomorrow.  Whoa, whopper and we've all said it knowing there is a slim to none chance of follow through.   We tell our selves these little lies so we won’t go postal, or in my case maintain some semblance of a normal life.

So if I haven’t told you, I’m on a quest for inner peace.  I think I’m like ¾ of the way there, give or take.  Believe what you want.  This means a lot of self-examination; especially after I open my sassy mouth; but I digress. So I’ve come to terms with a few lies I tell myself and why I need to start being honest with myself:

Mr. Right Is Out There and I’ll Find Him Someday

Maybe.  I haven’t given up hope.  But I have come to terms with the fact that he might not be out there.  I still have like 40 years or so.  You see in order to be happy, I have to be okay with that.  I am okay with that.  If I spent my time or energy in the “waiting room’ I’d be missing out on so many other things.  I already think people don’t complete each other, they complement each other.  I don’t need anyone to make me happy; I have to do that for myself.  I'd have to say, I'm pretty doggone happy too.  At this point any man that can tolerate my snark {and alarming natural beauty} and that I can spend more than an hour with, without rolling my eyes twenty times, will just be icing.

I’ll Have More Kids Someday

Oh wait...I'm good.

I have two beautiful children, for whom I thank God everyday.  Selfish to want more, but I can’t help myself.  While I was still married, as I sat in the doctors office receiving my son’s Autism diagnosis, I remember the words, “please don’t let me be pregnant, please don’t let me be pregnant” run through my head.  I thought I was pregnant, but a blessing in disguise I wasn’t.  I don’t think it would’ve been something I could’ve handled, it would’ve torn me apart as I already felt like I was sinking in a unknown sea a named Autism.  Now, I’m older and wiser and know the ropes and think I could handle more children and allow myself to think…maybe.  But truth be told, I’m not getting younger, right I know, what kind of crap is that?  Things will only get riskier, my eggs are planning for retirement and I have to accept that that may not happen naturally for me.  I didn’t know I could have heartache for something that is just a glimmer of hope.  My kids just fill me with so much joy, I'm a junkie, I need more.

You Cannot Melt Cellulite

I’ll never forget the day I read the words, “cellulite…genetic…never goes away…no cure…”  It’s all a blur, all I remember is the tequila.  For years I have fell prey to the snake oil salesman, buying the magic cellulite crap cream, doing 9 bazillion lunges, and crazy yoga contortions.   The only hope there is out there is liposuction and airbrushing, and both cost money, money I don’t have.  Alright, I’ll get off the subject before you start stabbing the computer screen; sorry to be the bearer of bad news. 

I Can Be Friends with My Ex

Lie.  I think I’ve lied to myself longer than I should on this one.  It was for the kids after all.  I’m divorced for a reason,  if he changed or made some amazing transformation we might still be married; and my life is not a 90 minute happily ever after movie, so what am I thinking?  I was married to this person for 9 years, we still know how to push each others buttons, and as much as healing has occurred there will always be scars.  So friends, no; I’ve been burned one to many times here.  But friendly I can do.  Texting, simple hi and byes I can do. {You have no idea how much I edited this puppy down}

I'm Crazy or I'm Not Crazy

I am both the poster child and the self-proclaimed referee for all things crazy.  If you're going to say something crazy that makes no sense, I'll be the one to point it out to you.  On the flip side, rarely anything I say makes much sense.  Conundrum.  Have you ever said this to your friends, "is it just me?"  Loosely translated, that fool is the crazy one and I'm normal right?  Naturally only your best friends would tell you you're crazy and crazy people or people that want to shut you up would agree you're not crazy. You can't argue with crazy people either, that gets you nowhere.  Jury is still out, I may or may not be crazy. 

I’m Smokin’ Hot

Oops, typo, I still believe that one!

Are there any lies you tell yourself?  Go on, let the healing begin.