A couple weeks ago, I ‘fessed up via electronic confession-box (because who doesn’t want to confess their lives to people they don’t know on the internet?!) about my ever changing religious understanding.  I’m still kind of on edge about it … one part joyful and relieved to not be hiding behind vague answers and silence and one part still perpetually terrified about more confrontation.  I don’t necessarily mind defending myself (and I am, by vocation, a high school debate coach which mandates a natural tendency toward arguing about everything …), but the same lines of reason get old after awhile.  This is especially true when they’re largely unreasoned objections coming from people I just really want to be supportive.

But that’s not their job.  They don’t exist in this world to make me feel good about myself and what I’m doing.  If I’m doubting, I need to turn those concerns over (I’m not, really, for the record).  If I’m tired of defending myself, I should think about how different and uncertain it feels for those doing the questioning.  Change isn’t easy, and while this has been my life (although my secret life …) for quite a while (even when I didn’t realize it …), it hasn’t been for those around me.  Everything is new.  The status quo is different.  That breeds unrest, and I should probably be more compassionate about it rather than complaining about how many times I’ve had the same hurtful conversation with the same person.

Yes.  Yes, indeed.

I love it when I come to write something completely different and wind up making up my mind another way as I write.  It’s like my brain sees the words and starts arguing with itself, reasoning out a new perspective.  Fun!

Em.

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