Letters Never Sent

Or blips from blog posts never posted...

I've been going through the drafts on my blogs, the ones I've begun writing and never finished. Or opted not to post.

There's some interesting stuff here.

From Reflecting on Ten Years, written 7/14/06 in anticipation of my ten year high school reunion:

"I've often said that I'm not sure I liked myself back then and I'm not so sure I want to see people who remember me that way.

So, I've spent my adult years far away. I have grown into myself quite nicely over the last ten years. I am a joyful mother of children. I am a fierce, loving friend. I am a nurturer, a lover, a mentor, a teacher, a poet. I am rather at peace with the woman I've become. But, there's still an 18 year old girl in there who is hurting. Deep inside there is a girl who feels grossly inadequate, thoroughly misunderstood and completely betrayed. Despite anything I've told myself about either excitement or apprehension over seeing all of the other people in my graduating class, it's really that 18 year old girl that I'm not sure I'm ready to face right now. Because, despite all of the growth and successes I've found over the last 10 years, I still have no idea how to make it all better for her."

From a post awaiting a clever title, that I started on 1/25/07:

"There's a reason that I buy into the "sacredness of motherhood" bit. I trust God. I trust that when He says that motherhood is noble, sacred work that it is not just lip-service. I have no doubt that He respects me for what I do each day and will follow through on His promises.

To the rest of the world, however, I've found myself casting an evil eye. Because motherhood, womanhoood, childbirth -- anything distinctly woman -- has received little more respect and appreciation than the lip-service paid around mother's day.

The work that defines my existence, both personally and professionally is just not important."

From Hungry, 8/31/07:

"I love other people so deeply that it hurts at times, and yet I am never quite sure how to bridge the vast chasm that exists between two human beings.

In ways, the internet helps. With the time to think before I speak, to remove the masks and mannerisms and trappings of social interaction, I can more easily speak my truth. I can listen more fully, express my love and concern more unabashedly.

But then, these cold words so often fall short of the warmth of true intimacy. So I long for a face to look at, to see the eyes of another brighten and darken as we speak together. But then I find again that aching insecurity, a feeling of not being enough. Even among those I know well and love, the words that flow so easily from my fingers dry and crackle in my throat, unwilling to take the forms I bid them take. I choke on ideas, expressions that I meant to serve as sumptuous dinners for others. The love I feel, the gifts I want to give refuse to sound through my unpracticed voice, never rising above my breast."

From We Don't Need No Education, 9/8/07:

"If you skip too much school, you end up stupid. Period. "Getting in trouble with the authorities" just doesn't seem like a logical consequence to me. In my mind it undervalues education when the establishment uses force and threats to coerce students to go to school and to show up on time."

From Let's Face It, 8/27/08:

"I'm a home-schooler at heart. It goes against every instinct in my body to take my children to school and leave the shaping of their minds and hearts to strangers.

At the beginning of each school year my inner landscape is a war-zone. One part of me is highly suspicious of the compulsory government-monopoly school system as an evil, Orwellian institution. The other part of me gets giddy mid-August at the mere idea of buying school supplies and skipping off to Mrs. Castagno's class."

From Why I Think Marriage Matters, 11/31/08:

"Just over eleven years ago, I looked into the eyes of the man I loved and promised before God and loved ones to cherish him, care for him and give myself to him forever. It was an indescribable mix of joy and terror -- an earnest and meaningful commitment.

It was not political, not a simple merging of two households and fortunes. It was very tender. It was a leap of faith.

This is why marriage matters."

Apparently I've had a lot to say over the last couple of years, just not enough time to really finish saying it all. I felt compelled today to share these bits with you. Perhaps I'll finish and polish up a few of these and post them in their full forms.