I had a fairly straightforward upbringing. My parents parented me evenhandedly, and my brother and I always knew right from wrong and complied to the rules of the house 98% of the time— even as teenagers we “pushed” but we always knew our own limits and what our parents expected of us. My personal fear back then (and still now I guess) which drove me to make good decisions in life is that I never wanted to disappoint them.

A big emphasis my Dad bestowed on us growing up was that of teaching common sense. Because, he believed, “having common sense can set you on the right path even if you stray now and then”.

I strayed a little in my late teens and college years. I was always a good girl, and never got into too much hot water… but add boy(s) to the picture and temporary insanity ensues.

The college years for me were freeing. It was the first time away from the confines of small-town suburbia, and I still managed to stay true to myself. I got a little wild now and then, but made good decisions because I could hear the voice of my dad in my head keeping me on the straight and narrow.

But boys, sheeesh…. my parents never seemed like they had the desire to warn me about how a boy can essentially erase all that logic and common sense from your head.

And when I think about all the borderline-bad decisions I made in my life they always has to do with a boy.

Hubby knows everything about my past. He knows all the boys. The long-term relationships, the fleeting ones. He knows all the skeletons too (there are a few), and he loves me just the same. He accepts my good and bad without question or judgement.

This weekend dredged up an old memory, one from the boy-archives in the years of insanity. Without going into detail, (because I can’t…. some items are not to be blogged about and pressed into the internet for life long re-reading) suffice it to say that a totally bizarre coincidence impressed upon me that the path I chose in life is the right one. And God has a funny way of reminding you that decisions are not inheritly bad, they are just part of living and learning. You can forgive yourself for making decisions even when common sense has a negative consequence.

And this post is a shout-out to the guy upstairs. Thank for for reminding me that You would never hold that against me. For almost 20 years, I carried the burden, now I am finally ready to let it fly away.

And hubby, who knows my blog is here, but doesn’t read it… thank you for helping me set it free. This is why I love you.

And, note to self: Dad was right.