Secret Stomach Lumps
On our way to our new private school, I had to repeatedly say “mom!” until she stopped singing. No doubt, she replied with something like “yes Shelly” or “what Shell”. “I have lumps in my stomach”. She figured out I was referring to butterflies in my stomach and I’m sure she and my brother shared a smirk. 7th grade, the start of junior high and I had to be shackled to my brother into a conservative Christian school because he’d been expelled from our public school for throwing a chair through a window. A year later, he would be expelled from that school for drinking with a couple of girls in the chapel.
Every time I get nervous, I remember those lumps in my stomach and I smirk. Maybe it helps a little to laugh at it.
I just had an interview in Chicago and I just returned from that trip. Eagerly as I wait for the result of what I perceive a complete disaster, I reflect on the humility of life and the lessons I take from it. All the expectations we have are just a mirage and never once have I felt I’ve “made it”, even when things were going seemingly well. I’m always full of lumps, as it were.
Part of me needs to feel like I have to produce a certain result for my parents. Apparently, that’s what I’ve been up against, my dad’s ego to be better than his childhood best friend from down the street. I figured this out years ago but it still kinda stings, even though I don’t blame my dad now. I know that both my parents tried their best and on my good days, I can let it go and forgive them.
My brother told me something the other day that might stay with me forever - he said “you tend to blame others for your problems”. Perhaps an oversimplification but maybe he’s right. I think I try to get to why things are the way they are. Sometimes when I reach those conclusions, I get mad. Maybe I’m too curious and I just need to move on and attempt to improve my life. When I look at the endless possibilities in life and what I feel I’m capable of, the world seems small. That is perhaps my liar brain talking.