vulnerable. end.

I think my brother thinks I’m way logical. And that he can say whatever thing he wants to me without me getting hurt. I do hold things deep down. I don’t show tears or hurt. I’m not transparent. I have to use words to say what I feel instead of just showing it.

I thought I’d never get married. Boys like vulnerable. A princess in a tower. My tower was disguised as confidence. I didn’t think I wanted to get married. I wanted to be left alone so no one would penetrate my safe fortress. I had heart-wrenching times when my future husband would grab my hand and attempt to pull me out of myself. I didn’t like the light – I wanted my dark and cozy room. I wanted no one to know what was going on in there. I held on tightly to the illusion that I had it all under control. Having someone try to make me leave that safety was excruciating. At one point, I was close to running like Jane Eyre did, through the countryside, sleeping in the fields and starving. North Dakota was one big field, ready to embrace me. Not kidding.

My sister thinks I’m a rock. Or knows that I’m trying to be a rock. We argued a few months ago. She said what was on her mind. I held back, not wanting to screw it up. She said she hated that she could see that I was in a rage, but that I wouldn’t just say what I wanted to say. I wasn’t in a rage. I was filled to the brim with deepest fear. Hating that we were fighting. Hating that I was coming out of my safe little room and having fulfilled what I thought would happen – that I would be awkward and wrong and stupid.

My mom knows I’m vulnerable, but also thinks I’m that logical rock. She shares her deepest fears and hurts with me. She sees on the outside that I can handle it. And then later, remembering that my outside doesn’t always reflect what I’m feeling, she apologizes.
“It’s ok. I’m fine!” Not wanting her to feel like she can’t share with me anymore.

I’m not sure what dad thinks of me exactly. I think if I knew that, I might know myself better. Guessing at what he thinks can be excruciating.

And what do I think of all of them…?
They are diverse, funny, passionate people. Filled with talent and love. All of them. The whole family. It’s considered “broken”, but the pieces that have been added to the family through re-marriage make the put-back-together pottery more beautiful.