you must lie in the bed you made.

We all remember that accusatory childhood rhyme: “Liar, liar! Pants on fire! Hanging from a telephone wire!”

Well then, light a match and string me up nice and high, because- yes- I am a big, fat liar.

In an attempt to bond at a sisterhood event with my sorority this past weekend, we were asked the question, “What is your greatest fear?” Most girls talked about their fear of failure, being alone, losing their families or dying in some horrific manner. I said I was scared of needles and feet.

Complete and total bullshit.

Yes, I have a phobia of needles and the thought of feet touching mine or being near me makes me anxious, but those are nothing compared to what I actually fear most in life. Yet, I cannot tell my greatest fear to the women that I call my sisters?

The saddest part of all is that this is nothing new for me.

I have huge trust issues and I’ve let people see the true and, usually, worst parts of myself, only to have them use those worst parts against me. Because of this, I come off as aloof and standoff-ish.

And I wonder why I feel like so many of the relationships in my life are superficial.

The darker parts of my personality, and of my life in general, would make most people squeamish and uncomfortable. Yet the biggest problem is that the worst parts of myself have so much to do with the person that I make myself to be to the rest of the world. So what is the line between helping the people in my life understand who I am and saying too much?

It’s a vicious cycle that I need to break, and I know it. And it’s time to break it now: one of my greatest fears in life is motherhood. Why? I am the youngest in my family and am not used to little people and, growing up without a mother, I have no role model to follow after.

Cycle broken? Maybe not yet, but I’m getting there.