Gray Matter

Hello, I am Natalie, and I am not a Molly Mormon.  It sort of feels like "coming out" in Alcoholics Anonymous.  But, it is what it is.

I am a 32 year old...wait...or am I 33?  I don't even know....Mormon, but not Molly Mormon woman. That in itself could be an entire post.  Which, I suppose, would be a good place to start. Female....Mormon...but NOT so Mormon that I am defined as a "Molly Mormon."

Now...this is where it gets touchy.  However, it is something that is very real and honestly something that is sometimes hard to deal with.  Especially on Sundays, at potlucks and mommy dates. But whatever. I digress.

What is a Molly Mormon, you ask?  A Molly Mormon is a term used to describe "the perfect Mormon woman".  This kind of woman we are supposed to strive to be, and when we don't meet the bar, we beat ourselves for it.  You know who she is.  She is the pretty and perfectly put together one driving the minivan with the twelve kids in the back.  The twelve kids who are perfectly behaved and perfectly dressed.  Oh. And her minivan is clean, accept for the cute diaper bag on the floor and the children's scripture cases which they ALL remembered to bring to church.  Yup.  She is the one with the knee length skirt and modest blouse, a casserole in one hand and a plate of freshly baked straight off of Pinterest cookies in the other.  She cooks, she cleans, she sews, she crafts, she blogs, bears her testimony every fast Sunday, she plays piano, and when her kids get home from school she has fresh baked treats on the table ready for them.  On cute plates.  With origami folded napkins in the forms of animals.  She ALWAYS looks put together  Even in sweats.  No lie.  She has never said a cuss word. EVER.  She doesn't drink caffeinated soda, has never seen an R rated movie, and doesn't own a two piece swimming suit.  And, when they get together to hang out it looks like a page straight out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine.  Seriously.  I have come to grips with the fact that I am not this woman.  No, I am a female member of the Mormon faith who is trying to figure things out.  One day at a time.  Doing the best that I can, knowing that I am certainly not perfect, and hoping that God still loves me anyway.  And, to be completely honest, hoping that Jesus won't come anytime soon so I can have a little more time to get my life back in order.

The mind is an interesting thing.  So many emotions.  So many thoughts, good AND bad.  Memories that open floodgates to an endless sea of feelings and recollections, triggered by such small and simple things.  A song on the radio, a familiar smell, the changing of leaves in the fall and the way the light dances off of them in the Autumn breeze.  Even dreams that wake you up as a confused mess...being lost somewhere between reality and dream where you are either hoping it is all real, or praying to God that it was just a nightmare and it will all be over after you have a few moments to pull yourself together.  All of this, from a mound of gray matter gently nestled beneath a thin sheath of bone.  And in this mushy gray matter is where my thoughts tumble over eachother like wet clothes in a dryer.  Over and over, dying to be let out so they don't have to tumble anymore.  This is the purpose of this blog.  To let these dang clothes out to dry so that they won't tumble anymore.  Perhaps it will bring relief in my own life, perhaps it will touch someone else and help them along the way. Perhaps no one will ever even read this.  Either way, gray matter, it is time to stop tumbling and let go.

You see, I have three BEAUTIFUL children, a husband who loves me and of whom I love dearly, and a boxer puppy.  Which was probably a mistake, but I caved in a moment of weakness because of utter cuteness and stupidity.  In this world of being a mom, a wife, a Mormon and trying to keep a puppy from destroying our little 2 bedroom apartment, I am dealing with the demons of my gray matter.  The gray matter that makes me uniquely me.  The good and the bad qualities that I have embedded in this DNA.  The demons we ALL have hiding in us somewhere, who we want to face and get rid of, but one thing or another keeps us from letting go.  Whether it be depression, feeling inadequate, weight struggles, saggy boobs, or even constant Pinterest fails.  So, this is where my journey will begin.  Sitting at my computer, slowly taking out tumbling pieces of clothing from the dryer.  Hoping that if anyone reads this they are merciful and understanding, and ultimately hoping that if they are experiencing anything similar that they know they are not alone.  Hello, I am Natalie.  I am not a Molly.  Sometimes I swear.  I like Vanilla Coke.  I hate carrot jello.  I look awful in sweats with no makeup on.  And that's okay.