My shameful secret

I’m beginning this post defeated, knowing without a shadow of a doubt what the outcome will be: ridicule; jeering; humiliation.

How can it not be? The thing I have to tell you about brings me the very deepest sense of upset and shame, and I know it will make me a laughing stock. It is against every principle I have ever held on this matter, as far as my ‘public face’ is concerned, but I feel compelled to come clean.

My Shameful Secret

It’s something which has preyed on my mind for a while, because I’ve felt increasingly as though I’m not acting with integrity by giving you the full and true picture of myself. It’s not that this is a particularly Big Deal, nor should it be, except that it feels like it might be, and I’m dreadfully uncomfortable about it.

But I’m more uncomfortable keeping it hidden any longer.

Perhaps I’ve always known, since the beginning, when these things first emerge through the fog of sub-consciousness and take form – ungainly, discomfitting knowledge; full of sharp angles and corners which don’t fit with your expectations for yourself, but nonetheless remains stubbornly, real-ly real.

In not acknowledging this truth, it has become an elephant in the room of my mind, clouding my thoughts and colouring my judgement. I have been through nearly all the stages of acceptance with it, and my sadness, denial and anger have given way to melancholy, and I realise that the only way out is to recognise that this thing, too, is part of the truth of me – to ignore it any longer is to live a lie.

But I’m anxious. Not cripplingly so, because the people who matter are kind and compassionate, and after the initial shock wears off, I think they will accept this new version of me. I hope they will. The people who don’t matter…well they can think what they like. It’s of no consequence to them. I just have a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, which I think will only go away once I’ve done whatever the equivalent of looking each person in the eye and accepting their judgement, is.

I told Husby yesterday. I told Mum today. They were both taken aback but have found it in their hearts to be supportive of me, and I suppose that’s the best outcome I could ever hope for. I don’t know when I’m going to tell the rest of my family. I haven’t even told WonderAunty yet (so yes, you’re reading it here for the first time – sorry about that but I just couldn’t admit this to you in person because it feels like such a betrayal). The rest of my family…well, I’ll drip-feed the news in and perhaps they can osmose it without really ever noticing that I’ve turned away from all I held dear.

I tried telling Beth and she was perturbed, telling me not to abandon my principles, and that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear or not. I worried then, because I knew it would forever change how she viewed me, and once I’d uttered the words, there was no going back.

No way to un-say it.

But it’s the truth.

It’s the truth and I can no longer live under the shadow of it not being known.

It’s the truth and I need to be brave and say what I need to say and then begin to live in a manner which compassionately acknowledges the changed perspective I have of myself, and the different way others will doubtless view me.

At the moment it just feels like another barrier to being able to love myself. Because of the dichotomy of how I’ve been living and how I tell you all I’m highly self-edited, but you’ve no idea how deep that goes. Or…you didn’t.

Okay.

*deep breaths*

In spite of the fact that I’ve always believed I was made a particular way, and absolutely determined to live in accordance with that particular way, an up-coming circumstance has forced my hand into acknowledging that I am NOT that way. The truth will out (as they say) and so I might as well jump as be pushed. So I’m going to reveal one of the most shameful secrets:

I’m getting a Kindle.

 

 

 

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212 thoughts on “My shameful secret

    • Believe me, I will. In every sordid detail. I love pages too, and I think I’m going to find this new thing very peculiar and I sense I will be quite resistant to it. I’ll probably need a safe word…

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    • Heheh I’m glad you thought it was funny. Was it worth the change in the end? I’m still feeling pretty put out at the idea, but I’m coming round to it. I managed to look at them on amazon for a whole ten seconds today without just clicking away…

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  1. LIZZI! I’M YELLING AGAIN. You tricked me, you little minx!

    I was also a rebel to the e-reader. I wanted to believe that I would never fall in with the masses and not be able to smell the pages of an old tattered book, to use my finger to turn the page, to rabbit ear my place when I got interrupted, to set the book on my nightstand so that when I woke in the middle of the night, I could go to that rabbit earred page and read just one page, one more page, ten more pages, one more chapter, until the sun sprayed through my windows, I stretched and yawned but felt satisfied because not only did I finish that chapter, I finished that book, and I had plans to go to the library that day to get the next book in the series with plans to devour it that night through sleepy eyes with a glass of wine sitting on the table next to me and a blanket thrown over my legs. Then I got to the library and went to my place where I found the first three books in the series, but *gasp* the fourth was checked out, and there were SEVENTEEN holds on it, and I was going to have to wait at least 34 weeks before I got my hands on it, so I ran to the used book store where the girl told me that they were unable to keep this particular book in the series on the shelf because it’s just so good, and have I read it? Oh no, of course not, and can I believe how the author left us hanging on book three, so I ran to the new book store where they were ALSO SOLD OUT. I walked away sullen with my head hanging down with a few other books that I was not quite as excited to read. I called my good friend, Nikki, who reads twice as much as I do, which is hard to believe, and she said she had it on her Nook and could loan it to me and would because books five, six, and seven were even better, but I said, “No, I don’t have a Nook,” and she said, “Why not?” And I said, “Because ^^^.” And then the next week was Christmas, and as I ripped paper from boxes, my mother in law sat grinning watching me open her package to me, and when I pulled out my very own Nook, I cheered and clapped because that night, I would read and finish Book four and start book five.

    See? Because books are right at my fingertips now, so I can binge read without having to leave my wine, or blanket, or house, and I can take my library with me ANYWHERE.

    The e-book is not so bad after all.

    Longest comment ever.

    Liked by 3 people

    • This comment was exhausting and I’m not even a little ashamed that I got aroused when you mentioned using your finger to turn the page, even though that makes no sense because what the fuck else would you use to turn the page? I still have to use my finger to turn “pages” on my iPad, so it’s not as relaxing as it could be. I should just be able to think “page turn” and it should happen. My body should be completely relaxed. I shouldn’t have to lift a finger. Let’s make that happen and become rich please.

      Liked by 1 person

    • BWAAHAHAHHA GOOD! I’m glad I tricked you. I like being hoodwinky every now and again, and this one was just a bit of fun, right?

      ANYWAY, Little Miss Serial – I can completely see why you would want to, no, NEED to get an e-reader for book 4 – it sounds as though the series was so good that there was no WAY you could have waited 34 weeks to borrow it (though…was amazon sold out too?) buuuuuut I don’t think there are any series(es?) of books which I’ve read that have affected me that way. When I’ve read them, they’ve never ended on such a cliffhanger I’ve HAD to read the next one – they’ve mostly been neatly contained units with a longer, overriding arc, which is rather lovely.

      The thing is, I’ll only ever dog-ear the pages of books I don’t mind about, but there are some which are sacred. The other thing (and this makes me a little weirder than you knew, I’ll admit) is that I miss the font. I really REALLY have a thing about fonts, and most books seem to be in some kind of pleasing serif (often Times New Roman, or similar) and I DREAM in that font…I’ve even put books BACK because the font has been some disgusting sans serif thing, which I can’t bear to absorb a story from. I admit I’m a snob for the entire experience – the weight – the feel of the paper – the scent – the colour of the pages – the cover – the way I can put it down and pick it up and carry it around with me and feel like it’s REAL. In an e-book it’s all 1s and 0s, even if it looks like a story.

      (Yeah yours was the longest comment ever but I don’t mind πŸ™‚ )

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  2. Pingback: Ten Things of Thankful #93 | Considerings

  3. Well. Let me just say I support you in your decision — there is a time and place for electronic book readers (especially when you go on a long vacation – you just can’t beat a Kindle for that!) And just because you go that route doesn’t mean you can’t ever go back to print. In fact (and I know it’s shocking) but I routinely go back and forth between my book reader and real, paper books. Sometimes one will appeal more to me for weeks on end, and then I rediscover the other. I guess I’m bi-booksual.

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    • HA! That is PRECISELY the wording I used earlier – nothing will ever persuade me to leave books behind entirely, and I suppose that once the research is done, I shall have to learn how to live as a bi-booksual, too. THANK YOU for your support.

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