The problem with me is that I can't whisper into my pillow and have that be enough...I need to write. Its like a form of therapy for me...and cheap therapy at that. I can say whatever i want....and say it loudly and say it clearly....Yes, I can! But not without consequences. And its those consequences that I have to figure out if I'm willing to take...
Really, I 'm talking about the woman I termed Cruella DeVille for most of my blog - Who, I must admit has not been a true Cruella for quite some time. I just keep the name alive and kicking because somewhere in the deep recesses of me...is the fear that she's going to flip a 180 on me and turn into the crazy lady that I dealt with for more than FIVE years.
And in all fairness...as a stepmom, I expect some of that drama. I expect the anger and the underhanded tricks and the backstabbing...I know divorce is not pretty... (that may just be the understatement of the year.) And I also know that when a birth mom and a stepmom can't get along...there are bound to be fireworks. And, well, some of those "fireworks" appear in past posts...
And what if she finds this blog? Do I care if she reads it? Yes...in some ways I do care. Do I want her knowing me this well? Not really. Which is funny to me that I could care less if complete strangers know that I am madly in love with Donnie Wahlberg from New Kids on the Block and will be forever (4-eva), but I cringe at the thought that Cruella would know that about me.
And so you see my first Aha! moment. My first consequence. Its very likely that she could stumble onto this blog and read all the past posts...some of which are quite unflattering to her and even a couple that are unflattering to her children and then...could I blame her if Cruella returned?
I guess we'll see where it goes. Right now its worth it to me to get a chance to just speak my mind. And so, in the event that you arrive at this blog someday, Cruella, and take an inkling to read all the way from 2004 to now...I truly hope that you don't hold it against me and turn psycho again.
(p.s. I'm sorry I called you an egg donor.)
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