Maybe…Maybe Not.

I sat down and opened my computer. Stretched my fingers out, hovering above the keys. Felt my heart skip.

I don’t think I can write about this.

Looked just to the left of my computer screen. Saw a card that states, “I don’t have to be 100%, 100% of the time.”

But this one feels important, I thought. This one feels like I need to be 100%. 99%, at least.

—

Earlier this week, my therapist, Rachel, told me she sat in a therapist’s office with her daughter earlier that day. In this therapist’s office, there was a bright, neon sign that said “Maybe, maybe not.”

That evening in my session with Rachel, I came to an all too familiar place…

Rachel: On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your anxiety?
Me: Uh…um…I don’t know…5? 7? No, 6. Ugh, (visibly frustrated) I have no idea!

Rachel stopped me. She simply said, “Maybe…maybe not.”

In that moment, I felt my breath get lighter and even out a bit.

Rachel explained, “You don’t have to know. Your best guess is good enough. It doesn’t have to be perfect every time. You don’t have to get it right every time.”

So, maybe my anxiety was a 6…maybe it wasn’t.

—

So, today…

I sat down at my computer, opened this document, and started to type. My heart beat-beating out of my chest.

Abortion is a touchy topic. Roe v. Wade was overturned. People are either celebrating or they’re outraged. And they’re fighting. Oh, the fights I’ve seen take place from the safety of peoples’ keyboards today. 😥

I’ve never talked about abortion on my blog before. Mostly because it’s not a personal issue to me. I don’t necessarily have a personal connection with it. But today, it feels personal. It feels so very important.

Today, it feels like women and people with uteruses have taken a massive punch to the proverbial gut. Today, it feels like women and people with uteruses have gone back in time. Today, it feels like women and people with uteruses have been sold out to the highest bidder.

Before you close this window…look, I don’t want to argue. I don’t want to fight with you. If you don’t agree with me, I recognize there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind. That’s not why I’m here. That’s not what this post is about. I respect your opinion 100%. Trust me, I do.

Because is my opinion right? Maybe…maybe not.

I started this post by saying this one feels important. This one feels like I need it to be 100%. I need it to be solid. I need it to be right.

But the best I can do is maybe…maybe not.

Even with this. Even now. Even with the big stuff, like abortion.

Maybe I’m wrong on this. But maybe I’m not…

—

The point is, the maybe. What if we learned to exist in the maybe?

If you’re like me, that is terrifying.

I like absolutes.

I prefer them, actually.

“Maybe” is one of my least favorite words in the English language.

But I wonder how much more peace we would all have if we learned to exist in the maybe?

I think it might be worth finding out.