I had a white night last night.
I don’t remember when the expression entered into our family vernacular, but when we are worried or stressed and can’t sleep, we call them “white nights”. My grandmother used to have them about us driving up north at night in moose country (or over lots of things, really) and she passed the trait down to my mom, who can also be a bit of a worrier at times.
Well, it looks like I’ve caught the gene too.
Shortly after I made my post last night, I began to worry that it could be read the wrong way. I was concerned that it came across as judgemental towards families who choose to host birthday parties outside the home, and the very last thing I would ever want to do is cast judgement on someone else’s choices. I woke up around 2:30am to use the washroom, and my brain clicked on and I couldn’t shut it off. My heart started racing at the possibility that my friend had read it and thought that my post was in response to being at her party… when really, it was just a collection of my late night thoughts that have been rambling around in my brain for months.
I really shouldn’t write at night.
I lay awake and began walking back through what I’d written, afraid that I’d been insensitive toward my friend, and other friends who choose to hold parties at different venues for a variety of very valid reasons: large family and friends circles and not enough space at home, previous experiences with kids (and adults) not respecting property within their homes, social anxiety having too many people in their homes, etc. Suddenly, the post I had meant to be reminiscent and introspective seemed outwardly judgemental as I read it over in the middle of the night.
And so, I lay awake staring at my ceiling with a racing heart until almost 4:30am when I finally passed out.
I really hope I haven’t, but if I in any way made you feel less or judged for holding birthday parties at a play place, I am so sorry. The post was meant to be a look at the choices I’ve made and some choices I’d like to make in the future… but I’m not sure if my vocabulary made that clear. In any case, posting it on the evening after we had just been at a beautiful birthday celebration that happened to be at a gymnastics place was incredibly insensitive on my part. It simply resparked an idea I’ve had for some time, and I wanted to write it out before I forgot about it again.
This is my eternal struggle as a writer. I am never sure if the thoughts in my head and heart come out on the page the way I intend them to. I am so desperately afraid of offending others or hurting their feelings that I struggle sharing my opinions or thoughts on anything. When I do (like last night) I often experience intense anxiety, worried that what I’ve truly meant to say hasn’t come across in the way I’ve intended, or worse, that I’ve upset someone with a differing opinion. It’s so much easier just to share a light funny story, muse about my day, or share my thoughts about things I’m experiencing. When I try to share an opinion about something, I worry incessantly. It’s hard. But I know I won’t grow as a writer if I don’t try and step outside my comfort zone.
So, I had a white night. It wasn’t fun, but if my last post made you feel small in any way for the choices you’ve made, please accept my white night as penance on my part.
And maybe no more late night writing for me.