A long time ago, way back when I was in middle school, I was going on a school trip. When it came time for the permission form to be filled out, my mother and I were giggling over the question about my health. Now for my mother and I to actually be giggling together over anything was unique in itself. I don’t remember who said “split personality” first, but it was so funny and SO not me, we actually put that down on the sheet.
The prinicpal was quite concerned and called my mom; he did not have the same sense of humour. I think he watched me like a hawk for the rest of my time at that school.
I am remembering this particular incident because it seems to be the starting point of the theme of two-of-me-in-one-body in my life. No, I do not have split personality. (By the way, I know the correct name of this condition has been updated but I can’t remember what it is.)
It’s just that it seems here are two of me in this body. There is the smart, nerdy, follow-the-rules, boring, hum-drum introverted me. And then buried just below the surface is the adventurous, live-on-the-edge, insatiable sex-loving extrovert. The extrovert gets out every so often. The introvert rules though.
If I take it one step further…the introvert is vanilla me and submissive me is the extrovert. Good god, some days I hate being the introvert. I long to let loose, and just be me…the extrovert. But it can’t be.
It’s not appropriate.
It’s not acceptable.
It’s not how a proper wife and mother would act.
And when you are married to a vanilla…well, that other inner person is not welcomed.
In some ways, she is dying inside me.
And only one will be left.









