If you promise to keep my deep, dark secret, I’ll let you in on it. All is not as it seems in my life. Yes, we have a beautiful home, my child is healthy, happy, compassionate, and well-adjusted, and I’m happily married to a wonderful man, but I am not so well adjusted.
If we’re being honest, I live with chronic anxiety and self-doubt. I constantly wonder if I’m doing a good job as a mom and wife, and when it comes to my writing, I’m nothing short of paranoid that its simply not good enough.
Can you keep my secret? Do you promise?
My days are filled with chores and anticipation of “what if.” Constantly worrying about my child, my husband, and my work consumes my thoughts. I continually check and recheck each and every chore and piece of work I create, never confident that my work is “good enough.”
So my secret is this, no matter how perfect one’s life may appear on the outside, what happens behind closed doors is forever an unkown. For me its self-doubt and anxiety, but I’m sure others face demons all their own.
During my 32 years of life I’ve learned that the only way to even somewhat alieviate the pressure of my secrets is to share them. Cliche as it may be, secrets make you sick, and I refuse to succome to my secrets.