Sins of the Past

The first client I ever used to "blog," from early 2001 until mid-2009, went through at some point and removed all old blogs. They kept them, and users could restore them for a fee. I did this, wishing I'd thought to download the data the last time that I visited.

Anyway, skimming over to make sure all of the posts were there, I was horrified by the me of a decade ago.

First is parenting. I was SUCH an authoritarian when D was younger! In one post, I was lamenting a recent bout of "attitude," using this exchange as an example: D had asked to make hot chocolate, but had not eaten dinner, so I stated that and said no. D responded with, "It doesn't make sense to eat when you're not hungry." WHICH IS TRUE. But at the time, I took it as being disrespectful or something. Ugh. So frustrating. I have since apologized. I've done that a lot since loosening up, actually.

Secondly, when I read things I wrote about what I believed in spiritually, it makes me cringe now. The god I believed in ten years ago is not one I'd want to worship today. I was very confident in the things I wrote, the answers I gave, the defenses I made. Everything got shaken up over the years between churches inviting me to leave because I was not making decisions as they advised, and D asking hard questions I'd glossed over but couldn't do so anymore and feel okay about it.

When I met with the pastor at the church I attend now, we were discussing spirituality and I said, "In the past, I have been a lot more certain in what I believed than I am now. I don't think that necessarily means my faith used to be stronger. I just think that before, I was carried along by so much spiritual inertia and an entire community structure that it seemed a lot simpler than it does now." He told me that he'd previously talked about faith as a journey, until his friend objected to that comparison, as a journey implies progress in a specific direction. He said his friend preferred to think of faith as seasons, and sometimes it's summer, sometimes it's winter. And I think sometimes there's just a weird pocket of unseasonable WTF, and the best you can do is try to keep your head down and power through.

The other day, I came across an old social media post where someone was ranting against me, sort of, and said, "SHE'S BEEN BRAINWASHED!" Reading this series of posts that I'd read in the past, after all of this time, my raw reaction was, "He's not wrong."

The things I believed about how to act and how to think and how to conduct a life now seem so foreign and embarrassing to me. I was confused at the time, trying to find my way, and I hurt people, including my own child, even if that's something all parents do and kids get over it, and I really hate that. I suppose it's helpful to have these records to remind us to proceed thoughtfully and never take for granted that there is only one way to do things.

We want there to be one "right" way. As much as we might protest, there's a big part of us that wants to be told exactly what we're supposed to do, so we can make sure we're on the correct side of things. The problem with that is that when we subscribe to a narrow view of how to approach anything in life (eating, learning, raising a family, caring for people), it closes us off from so many enriching options that we actually might find a much better fit.

When I think about some of the past stress and power struggles between D and myself, I wish I'd cottoned on sooner that if I stopped pushing, there'd be nothing to push against and it would get so much easier.

When I think about advice I gave a friend whose marriage was falling apart, I wish I'd just listened.

When I think about things I told other people about God, I want to track them down and apologize for being so far off of the mark. (I've done this with one person, and he was so graceful about it; I am grateful to have known some pretty amazing folks.)

It is my hope that when I'm in my mid-50s and catch a glimpse of the things I've recorded from this time, I'll be able to nod my head and think, "I was just starting to get it!" Although I might seriously wonder why I wrote several posts about Disney Pixar Cars. And if that's the case, it will mean that a giant chunk of the repetitive preschool parenting days has been mercifully erased from my memory.