If I’m being honest…

Apparently today was National Honesty Day. I found out about this the way I usually find out about things – aka trending topics on Twitter – and started thinking… what do I need to be honest about?

The answer is a lot. I’m really good at saying I’m ok when I’m not and putting on a happy face even when people piss me off. I don’t tell people when they upset me, because I can’t stand it when other people aren’t happy. And even when I want to be honest, I get scared and don’t follow through.

So here, for at least a few minutes, is me being completely honest. I’m sorry if I offend you. I’m trying not to worry about whether you’re happy or not.

If you gave me the opportunity to go back in time five years to Arlington, Va, I’d probably do it. I haven’t yet been convinced that everything happened for a reason and I wish I could undo all of it.

I really, really dislike Taylor Swift. But I will admit tonight that I have three of her songs on my iPod – one from The Hunger Games soundtrack, which I’ll openly admit to loving because I’m pretty sure she didn’t write it herself. But the other two I’ll never divulge, because they remind me of a specific time and place and person. That, and I’m embarrassed.

I sometimes wonder which of my friends will be the next to get divorced, because statistically it’s inevitable. I hope it’s none of them, but it’s bound to happen.

I am excited for my friends who are having kids. Really, I am. If they are happy, I’m happy for them. But it makes me sad, because I don’t know what to talk about with them any more. I feel like I’m being left behind as all of my friends move on from our friendship, because they have another human being to take care of and I can barely take care of myself. I don’t know what to talk about with them, and I miss the days when we compared stories about crazy nights at the bar or first dates or dirty apartment, because that’s all I can contribute to the conversation right now.

I wish I wanted kids, because I think that would make my life easier.

I think Mike Richards is hot. Always have. I just could never admit it when he played for the Flyers.

I blocked my ex on Facebook, because I couldn’t stand to see his name and picture pop up in the comments of the friends we still have in common. But occasionally I’ll log out of Facebook, Google him, and look at his Facebook page, just to see if there’s anything different. And every single time, I feel absolutely awful afterward. But I’ll probably do it again.

I wish we could predetermine when we meet people, and under what circumstances.

I have a soundtrack constantly running in my head, Ally McBeal style.

I’ve never seen The Shawshank Redemption or all of Schindler’s List.

So there it is, readers – my brief experiment with blunt honesty. Maybe it will carry over to my real life and I can finally get some things off my chest… or I’ll likely keep it bottled up, hidden under a smile and a wink. I did theater in high school… I still like being an actress occasionally.

How about you, friends? Anything you want to admit to today, in this non-judgmental space? It can’t be worse than an attraction to Mike Richards.

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9 thoughts on “If I’m being honest…

  1. Pingback: If I’m Being Honest… – The Year of Sexy

  2. I have developed a crush on Sidney Crosby and Zach Parise. The Flyers really need to start drafting some better looking players.

  3. Thank you for your honesty! I am impressed, not sure I could be as honest as you have been knowing people in my life read my blog. I often say “it’s ok” when all I want to scream…no it’s not! And I often think of the life that could have been if I made different decisions.

  4. If I’m being honest…

    I also feel like I’m getting left behind I don’t have a baby, am not trying to get pregnant, and would probably freak out if I got pregnant. It’s not that I don’t have anything to contribute, I can talk about baby books and early childhood development better than most new parents. But I fear that my parent friends are going to find my juvenile and boring. Because all I really do is eat takeout, live alone, be poor, go on dates, blog and read.

    In related honesty, I wanted to throw something about Marshall and Lily last night because I wanted more Robin, less baby.

    I am afraid to admit that I might be head over heels. Because I don’t want to jinx myself and I don’t want the public humility that could come with one more failed relationship.

    I’ve never seen Shawshank Redemption or Schindler’s List either. But I’ve also never seen Napolean Dynamite.

    I secretly wonder which one of those blissful married couples on Facebook are actually miserable.

    I sometimes have candy in my desk that I don’t want to share.

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