I get by with a little help from my friends

help from friends

I have spent a good portion of my life pretending. It starts pretty normally for most people. As children we’re encouraged to use our pretendenarium (as my husband likes to call it, imagination if you’re a normal human) to explore worlds without even leaving the comfort of our own backyards.

As I got older, the pretending kind of stuck with me. I was big into theater in high school, historian of our Thespian club thank you very much and I never missed a Thespian conference (ThesCon) if at all possible. Being on stage was all about pretending to be something you weren’t. It was a fabulous escape from the stresses of life to take a walk in someone else’s life.

But my pretending wasn’t confined to the stage. Like many high schoolers, I was trying to find myself and that involved a lot of pretending to be someone that I thought other people wanted me to be. It wasn’t until I had been married for a few years that I started to be okay with who I am, with the help of a loving and accepting husband, and stop caring so much about how other people saw me.

But even now as a wife and (almost) mother of two, I find myself pretending.

You may not know this, but I have this blog and sometimes I write posts that make it seem like my life is perfect. Sometimes I take staged pictures of a clean house or adorable child that make it appear that everything is fine and dandy and wonderful all the time. Same for my instagram feed or the photos that make it to facebook. They are carefully selected to only show the highlights; the good moments.

Sometimes I pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. That I’m okay, when I’m not. And I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that I’m not the only one.

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