Soul sick. Being OK.

Being ok is the hard part.

When it’s done and life moves on, it’s so hard to be just ok… Ok with who you are, with your life, with what you’ve been through and had to go through to get to, who you are.

There aren’t many blogs out there from women like me.

Women.

Like me.

That’s all I am, a young woman, with a boyfriend (long term, think YEARS! we're talking about marriage here, soon!), we have our own home, our own business, friends, family, hopefully our own children soon.

I’d desperately like for that to be where it all ends, but if that were it then why would I be here and what would this blog be about?

I don’t know many, not in person anyway (in fact I don't know ANY in person).

I’ve been in contact with some women online, but most often I find their life (as they describe it to me), their approach to being ok is not quite the same as mine.

All that I’ve read online about this part of our lives, seems mostly the same. Most women do all they can to try and hide it.

They call it “stealth” or even “deep stealth”

I’ll be honest, I struggle with that, it implies that one is invisible, or undetectable.... hidden. This is not me, I am not invisible, nor undetectable, not hidden, nor actively hiding

So others would say I’m “woodworked” but that does not feel accurate to me either.

What I feel is that most exert energy on it, on keeping their past silent. On being a certain “way” so as to attempt to avoid suspicion.

I don’t.

Not really.

I’m conscious of it, my past and my resultant present.

 I’m conscious of others, that they talk, that they have opinions and that they share their knowledge and opinions about all things (me included) with others.

Conscious that the world is a small place and that those others may not be as far removed from people who are important to me and my life (and those important people’s lives) as I might like them to be..

So in that light, I don’t promote myself or my past, but I’m not undetectable.

Is it scary?

Yes.

My boyfriend knows.

Not all of it, but he knows the basics.

He didn’t to begin with.

We’d had sex, we’d been seeing each other for a few months. I decided that I did love him, that I didn’t want to see him hurt because of what others might think of him for loving me (if word got about), and I felt that it was probable that he loved me back (but you’ll probably never really know, I’ll talk about this in a later post).

In my immediate daily life he’s the only one. We haven’t told his family his friends, my friends.

At the same time they all know. They all know I’m not as “simple” as most women, that I’m different somehow, that I have “baggage” that I don’t talk about or bring up.

But I’m a nice person, I’m generous, caring, compassionate loving, and I’ll do anything for anyone.

They like me.

They don’t want to “ruin” things any more than I do, so they don’t pry. They’re kind back.

And life goes on.

Am I ok?

It hurts.

My soul is sick.

But I’m ok mostly

Doing the best I can

Filling my life with "causes"

With people to love and look after, with things to keep me busy, as many of the experiences (than I need) as I can, so that when it’s over, hopefully I look back and not feel like a waste.

And now I have this blog and you.

I need to write, I have before and I do again. lets see how I go shall we?