R.I.P my closet, I am out

Last week, I came out as a neuro-mama-blogger. Not only I came out but  I also used Facebook to do it so I could win a blogger competition. Tacky, right? Absolutely tacky and I did not even win. The good point is that now everyone knows. Everyone except my in-laws. I am not sure that I want them to realize that their daughter-in-law is not the collected person who silently sits through the high-octane drama that is DH’s family dinners.  I am not sure that I want them to realize that I am more like a pressure cooker; a girl who is often, in her head, throwing things like the bread or the green beans all over the room and then rolls on the floor as if being exorcised. Not ready for this ‘coming out’…just yet.

The response I received was mostly energizing. I got a lot ‘good job’, ‘keep it up’, ‘I read it all’ and ‘I am laughing my arse off right now’. I got some ‘I feel like a voyeur’, ‘I am learning to know you’, ‘I did not realize this thing about your life’. What really startled me is how many people started to share some of their most private secrets and heartaches: depression, general ‘I was fucking fed up then’, fertility issues, life choices etc. I never thought that starting a blog would open up conversations with present and old friends in a way that even two bottles of wine of 15% Shiraz could not have done it.  It turns out that my angst-ridden  ‘Hey, I am Red, yes I am’ coming out was nothing compared to all the confessions I have been entrusted with. A truly humbling moment.

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