Last weekend, the man and I watched Girls on HBO as usual. We both love Lena Dunham, but hate the generation she is a part of…cause well, we’re old. Ok, not really….we just feel old.
Now, the episode itself was odd. If it had been a movie, with the whole situation played out, it may have been brilliant-kinda like Before Sunrise, but it is only a 25 min show, and it just hit as strange, sad and a bit lonely. But she did say one thing that really resonated with me, even today in my 30’s, “please don’t tell anyone this, but I want to be happy.”
When I was in my twenties, I remember that feeling. The feeling that in order to have this great, fabulously appearing life you couldn’t be happy. Angst made you look good, showing any bit of happiness just made you way too figured out, snobby and a bit of a dork. I’m 34, married and have a child, my blog is pretty successful and I have some amazing friends and family. I am where I want to be.
And yet…I am still afraid to admit I am happy.
But not for the same reasons. I’m afraid that if I say out loud that I am happy that those that aren’t will feel like I am shoving my happiness in their face and end up hating me. Envy is such a ugly thing, I know, cause I do it too, which is how I know someone out there inevitably will. Normally, I wouldn’t care cause seriously, I don’t know them so why should I, but I do feel guilty cause I know that I have been on the other side and it ate me up inside, this envy for the joy someone else had. It never lasted long, but those moments were enough to make me doubt myself, my life, all over again.
The biggest deterrer though? I’m afraid that the other shoe will drop and everything will be taken away from me. It’s a ridiculous fear. Really ridiculous. Yet, it’s a tiny voice on my shoulder of self doubt telling me “you are too happy, let’s put you back where you belong.” I have had a long road…of self doubt, of heartache, of loneliness and pain (sing it with me now!). For way too long than I care to even say. I deserve to be happy, hell I’ve earned it. Yet, when people ask me how I’m doing, instead of saying “I’m great!” I have to downplay it somehow. Like “Oh, I’m ok, you know, tired” or “I’m alright…too busy..but alright.”
What the hell is wrong with me? Tell me I’m not the only one on this side of crazy?