The Me I Used To Be

I blame the lack of words on my quiet period.

I used to be an attention stealer. I love attention, but can't handle when the attention is supposed to be on me. Speeches, presentations, and interviews are all painful, unless I'm interrupting them and becoming the new center of attention. I remember doing about anything for a laugh or smile. I played the willing clown throughout school.

I've had to work at fixing this because I figured out that it might get kind of annoying to my friends. They were conditioned to expect that erratic, over-the-top behavior from me, so now, when I sit here and am quiet, serious, or reflective - I think it kind of spooks them. In the smallest way, their pauses alert me that they are waiting for the next scene, the next larger-than-life demonstration or announcement (they wouldn't admit it, but I know they are wondering every time I call and want to get together if I'll be making that announcement or sharing that secret). I was the clown and I was good at it.

Now, I obsess, worry, think things over, and am quieter than I have ever been. There have been efforts made on my parts to bring to a halt the idiotic comments and verbal discharge. I kind of miss that girl - the freedom she felt to expose herself to ridicule. She was willing to say and do things just to make people smile and she didn't care what they thought. I'm definitely not as fun as I used to be.

I've thought a little about where that girl went away to and when this happened. I think she eroded bit by bit - some larger, some smaller bits. First semester at college kicked the crap out of me and I came home very apologetic towards everything and everyone. My serious boyfriend (and good friend) dumped me at the same time. I pepped up a little through college because I was having fun with C and company. I was even a little crazy, fun, and off-the-wall. Real life with houses and jobs and husbands hit me pretty hard. I instigated a terrible breakup with AM around June of 06 and that tore me to pieces. Devastation is not too severe a word to describe those feelings. Add a miscarriage on for good measure (loss of everything wanted and hoped for) and everything has led to a much more quiet and reserved version of me.

Sometimes the clown version pops up, but it's more occasional now than frequent. I used to have big issues about understanding consequences and the importance of maturity, but I've grown up. In growing up, I've lost parts of me and I'm not sure whether to mourn or be thankful. I sometimes wonder if C misses the girl he met and fell in love with. Then again, he's not the same person that I met six years ago either. We've grown up and evolved, but that doesn't make me miss the me I used to be any less. She was a lot of fun when she wasn't annoying.

I can't help but think she might return in a gentler version upon the birth of her first child. I have always had a strong love of anything "play" related (have you met my mom? - it's genetic). I want so much to play with my children. I think that I could find myself again in a little role called motherhood. Because, AM, I think you are doing the most wonderful, intelligent, and giving thing possible: raising your little E with love and knowledge. I don't question that it's hard and sometimes unrewarding, that there are struggles and compromises that I can't imagine. You have become a better version of yourself by being a mom to little E - no doubt. Enjoy your playtime today and I'll enjoy mine someday.