Allow Me to Explain

It was becoming my life’s motto. Allow me to explain why I don’t follow the career I want. Allow me to explain why I can’t afford to travel. Allow me to explain why I can’t go out with you to dinner. Allow me to explain why my shoes have holes and my pantry is empty and my bills are overdue. Sometimes there isn’t really an explanation it’s just a stall tactic to buy me some thinking time before the pity wave washed over me like warm piss. Often times, no one is judging me at all. In my mind, though, I read things that don’t exist. Every mouth twitch, every time someone looks away. I read into it what I secretly fear.

In truth, I shouldn’t have to explain any part of my life to anyone, including myself. I shouldn’t need to defend that I work sometimes 60 hours a week and still can’t pay my bills. I shouldn’t have to explain that while my life is not what I expected it doesn’t mean it’s not fulfilling. I don’t make a career with writing, like I always dreamed I would. I can’t afford the high quality products I want and in some cases need for health reasons. I work two jobs that are not fulfilling. My body is not physically where I’d like to see it. My diet is on occasion an oral exam on chemical warfare. My husband and I will probably not be able to have children. My home is in an almost constant state of half-done chores. There’s always dishes in the sink, piles of laundry, dirty carpeting, cobwebs, pet hair tumbleweeds, a ring around the tub. I mean really, I can continue.

At the end of the day, I’m still happy. Despite my bitching, my “first world problems,” my  menial complaints. I’m happy because I suck breath in and out. I have a loving husband. I have my ridiculous pets. I have my exercise keeping me sane. I have a house to go home to. I have friends who check in on me. I have a car almost fully paid off. I have a family.

If you are living the life you’ve always wanted, congratulations not everyone works hard enough to do so. I know I didn’t. I am scared of risks. I am scared of no safety nets. I am terrified of life a bit I suppose. I’m a person with an irrational fear of birds and doorknobs. I’m a person who builds ants to monsters in her mind. I’m a mad scientist with fears. Yes, I could abandon my ship and work hard to live the life I think I’m destined. Life is what you make of it. I’m happy where I am. I will always strive to be better. I will perpetually make excuses that never need to be uttered. Perhaps someday I will look at my successful, smart friends without envy but as equals. People work hard for their lives. They do all they can for what they have etched out in hard work, risks, dreams and love.

Let me explain why I’m okay. Let me explain why I love to laugh. Let me explain how much I love the sun. Let me explain why I’m great.