Tag Archives: growing up Catholic

There are 500!

21 Mar
Photo: Real Simple

Photo: Real Simple

Just before I published the following post, I checked the stats on my site. There are 500 of you! Five hundred followers! Five hundred people who want to read my irregularly published ramblings. I am gob smacked. Thank you for your kind support and for giving me the opportunity to use “gob smacked.”

This post is dedicated to you, my faithful followers.

Bless Me Followers for I Have Sinned

Being a blogger seems to me to be kind of like being a Catholic. When a Catholic sins, she goes to confession, recites her sins, does her penance and rides her bike home feeling all shiny and new.

I did confession like a good little Catholic girl for quite a while. Every Saturday, I’d go to church, tell the priest the horrible things I’d done and go home feeling shiny and new. One Saturday, though, I didn’t really feel like I’d done anything really wrong. Hadn’t fought with my brother. Wasn’t snotty with my mom. Didn’t swear, talk back to my dad or even stick my tongue out at my sister.

“I have nothing to confess,” I told my mom.

“You have to have something to confess,” she replied.

“No, Mom. I don’t.”

She said something about no one being perfect and there must be something I’d done that I wasn’t proud of and I was going to confession whether I had a sin to confess or not. So, I went to confession. And I made something up. I made it believable, like I was jealous of my brother or I coveted by sister’s Barbie, though I really liked my Barbie best. The priest did his four-thousand-words-a-minute blather, gave me a couple of Hail Marys and told me to go forth and sin no more.

That was when I had my first ethical dilemma with the Catholic Church. How, I reasoned, could I sin no more when I had to make up sins to confess every Saturday? Wasn’t confessing my sins making me into more of a sinner than I would have been had I not been forced to confess sins? A year later, I learned that no matter how much I wanted it, I couldn’t become a priest. That was when it was all over between me and the Church.

But recently, I have become a sinner. I have sinned against my followers and, to make my soul whole again, I confess the following.

I have not responded to you.

The Blogma states that new followers should be acknowledged and thanked. Following being Freshly Pressed recently, I strove to respond to every new follower with heart-felt thanks. I was rapidly overwhelmed. (I just scourged myself for bragging about being Freshly Pressed.) So, I created a folder for Follow follow-up. I haven’t followed up.

I have deleted you.

As a recovering Catholic, I admit to mountains of guilt over this. There were just so many posts and comments—hundreds every day—and so little time coupled with so little energy. (I’m fasting right now for mentioning the Freshly Pressed thing again.) The first time I deleted, I started with a comment and I closed my eyes before hitting the button. Soon, though, it became easier. Then, it became cathartic; I deleted not just comments, but entire posts. Eventually, there was no more backlog and I heaved a guilt-ridden sigh of relief. Please note: I never deleted all of any one blogger’s posts. I have some sense of decency.

I have failed to pass on blogging awards.

I’m honored when a reader passes on The Versatile Blogger award, or the Inspiring Blogger award. I’d even be honored to receive the Makes Too Many Self-aggrandizing References Award. (Forgive me, more bragging. Just put on a hair shirt.) I haven’t passed them on; I’ve wallowed in my “I’m too busy”-ness.

I haven’t published regularly.

Oh, I’ve posted a new “my kids are funnier than your kids” story every Tuesday, but other than that? I’ve been kicking back, taking it easy, neglecting my bloggly duties.

It’s been more than forty years since my last confession. Regardless, the feeling following is the same. I’m all shiny and new, ready to get back on my blogging bike and ride.



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