Mortified

Bryan has been trying to get me to watch The Mortified Guide on Netflix from the minute it came out. I’ve resisted, mainly because my childhood was painful and my teens years didn’t get much better. Finally, we decided to ease in with the documentary about their stage shows – and that was the right place to start. It’s kind of like dipping your toes in before being thrown headfirst into a pool, naked.

What is Mortified, anyway? Back in 2002, David Nadelberg found an unsent love letter he wrote as a teen and asked friends if they wanted to share funny entries from their journals. The idea took off and spread to other cities. Now, people do it on the regular and, like I said, they are even being rounded up by topic for Netflix.

There are several insane things about this. First, 2002 is the year my teenage son was born and he is now addicted to the show. Second, I had never, ever heard of this thing.

At the making of the documentary, Mortified events were mostly held on the coasts and I was both relieved and sad.

Oops.

Sometimes you should google things before opening your big mouth.

The good news is we were in time to get tickets for the March 15th show at the Oriental, which benefits one of our favorite organizations, Moms Demand Action Colorado. (You can too.)

However, I don’t think I will be reading from my journals on stage. Mainly because I don’t have any of them anymore. I do distinctly remember getting my first one and I’m able to pinpoint the date by my Dorothy Hamill haircut.

I cringe enough when I go back to old entries from this blog – I can’t imagine how weird my teenage ramblings would be. Still, I do love the idea that there are 12 years of archives here, that Dex can search through when and if he feels like it.

That is the exact reason I started blogging to begin with – to remember things.

Over the past few years, it’s become less and less personal around here. Most of that is on purpose because what used to be a mom blog isn’t rightfully that anymore when the stories aren’t mine to tell. Dex is growing up, and I now ask his permission to post a photo – so talking about what he is going through as a teenager is definitely off limits.

But, especially since my mom passed away last year, I have been writing private blog posts as I explore one of the biggest losses of my life. It’s a complicated thing when a parent dies, as many of my middle aged friends know. Eventually I will probably share pieces of what I have been writing, but for now, I am glad I have someplace to put them, just like I did in my analog diary back in the 70s.

I’m also glad there are things like Mortified which encourage us to laugh at ourselves – and remind us it’s all part of the journey.

Cover photo by Rebecca Aranda