I know I’ve been terrible at writing things lately. That’s one thing I like about blogging, though – you can blog every two hours, or you can let it sit for two weeks, and it’s always there.
The thing is, I haven’t had much to talk to you about lately. Life has been a weird mixture of school and reading and going places and doing things that are mildly interesting but not really interesting enough to talk about. I feel like, at this point, I’m fairly contented with things – I’m usually contented, actually – but nothing exciting has happened. So I’ll probably ramble a bit and hope you stay awake.
The other day I was talking to my sisters about marriage. We like to sepculate as to what sort of guy my sister younger sister Riah and I will marry. We decided Riah is probably going to marry a loud, fun Italian man with a penchant for cooking and buying her pretty things. We sat around mulling over what sort of guy I would get, and we couldn’t really land on…anyone. I mean, I like lots of different types – looks, personality, the works. My preferences aren’t the problem.
My sister Maralie put it perfectly (unfortunately so) when she said, “That’s because you have ten different personalities. There’s the mature Mirriam, the fourteen-year-old Mirriam, the adventurous Mirriam, the stay-at-home-sit-on-the-computer Mirriam…” and I realized, with a kind of ‘eureka!’ sinking feeling that she’d hit the nail on the head.
I don’t mind having ten different personalities, but at the same time, I never feel quite settled. I never wake up as the same person. One day I might wake up and feel gloomy and spend the day listening to emo music and writing in my darker novels and being unsociable, another day I might wake up and feel like wearing pink, and painting my nails, and listening to bouncy music while writing a comedic short story. Some days I’m mature enough I’m mistaken for a woman out of college, and some days I would fit right in with a group of younger girls and I wouldn’t mind and we could squeal and giggle and talk fluff and I’d be perfectly happy.
And while I don’t really mind this, generally speaking, sometimes…well, I do. Because it gives me the feeling that those around me won’t like who I happen to wake up as one day, and so half the days I spend trying to come across as someone I don’t feel like that day. And it’s annoying. It distracts me from getting things done and from being happy, and therefore I can’t make other people happy. It’s a spin cycle that doesn’t seem to stop.
I don’t know if it’s just me, or if you know exactly what I’m talking about and you have the Ten People Inside Your Head Battling For Dominance syndrome, too.
So, getting back to the marriage conversation, I said “I’ll just have to marry a guy who’s willing to roll with whatever I wake up as.” And I remember that the cool thing is, God does more than put up with me. He loves me no matter how ridiculous I get, and He picks me up no matter how many times I fall, and He doesn’t laugh when I’m embarrassed and He never stops.
I pray that I’ll be as tolerant and loving of others, no matter who they wake up as, as He is of me.