Fear of Commitment

Commitment.

It’s a simple three syllable word that is used fairly often. You can commit to a relationship, or to keeping a promise. You can commit a murder. You can commit yourself to God’s principles or commit to running a mile. There are a lot of things you can commit yourself to and yet, I do not commit. Or at least when I do commit, it is a partial commitment. Somehow, I can not pull myself to commit fully to anything. So, it is surprising to me that I have started to go to the gym and actually kept at it for the past 2 weeks. Granted, I still have time to screw it all up but something just keeps me going.

Why can’t that transfer over to all parts of my life? Why I can’t I make final decisions and not be scared that maybe the alternative will be better? I bring this up because I am constantly analyzing myself, and I will pick up on so many things nowadays–the way I walk, or sit, or talk, or act with people– that make me wonder if I would be happier as a guy. And if the answer is yes, what then? What does that mean for my love of heels, skirts, dresses, long hair, makeup, nail polish? I would have to give up so many different things, and for what? To be marginalized in a completely new way? And to think, all the explaining I would have to do.

I wish, decisions came easy. If they were, I do not think I would be so scared of committing because it would not be a matter of negatives and positives. It would just be a matter of being happy but happiness is so far when heart strings are being pulled in different directions.