I had a pang of shame tonight as I recounted a conversation from earlier today in which I shared with a supervisor, and with very little filtering, my thoughts and feelings around some work frustrations. I prefaced my rant by saying I was going to give my inner three year old free reign for a few minutes. Tonight, I actually buried my face in my hands and groaned, wishing I had kept my mouth shut.

Perhaps it was inappropriate to share as I did. Perhaps it would have been better, more respectable, to bite my tongue. And, I don’t always want to have to be the “good girl.” I don’t always want to have to take other people into account. It may have been a mistake, and I want to give myself permission to make mistakes. I want to loosen the controls I have tightly in place around myself.

I think I may have been staging a mini-rebellion the past two days. I think the anger, hurt, and frustration that’s been building in me the past several weeks might have come out sideways. Today, it came directly out of my mouth. Maybe not with the best person. I could have made a wiser, more deliberate choice. And, it also wasn’t the worst choice I could have made.

The truth is, I’m embarrassed even to be writing all of this. I want to delete this post and start over. It feels silly and mundane. I’m telling myself that I’m being a child, and I just need to grow up a bit. I’m reminding myself of the horror that took place today in a small town out east, and feeling like an idiot for taking myself and my “perceived” problems so god damn seriously. It’s all so small and meaningless by comparison.

It is, that’s true. It matters to me, though, and that is also true. I want to apologize for this, to bury my head in the pillow and try to forget that I spent this time thinking about and writing about my own small drama in the wake of such bigger things. Because I feel like a disgusting person for caring so much about something that seems so trivial. And, none of that changes the fact that I do care about it.