Filter

"You don't have a filter." Ugh, I hate that phrase, and unfortunately, I hear it too often. It reminds me of bad coffee, or strong Marlboros. Not someone who feels comfortable saying what's on her mind.

I know, I know, I could benefit OCCASIONALLY from stopping and thinking before I speak. But for the most part, I say what other people think. I'm funny. I don't hurt people's feelings (not anymore. And if I do, it is completely unintentional.)

Years and years of therapy taught me the benefits of not keeping things inside. Opening up. Expressing myself.

I truly thought that my "honesty" emanated in my later years, my early 20's to be exact. I was wrong. This past weekend, my mom thought it would be fun to share a childhood story with The Man.

"I'll never forget when Debbie was younger, around 4 or 5 years old. We were in Ocean City, MD, in the elevator. It was you, me, and your father, and a very large black man entered the elevator. 'Look, it's Fat Albert!," shouted from my kid lips. Your father and I quickly put our hands over your mouth, but it was too late."

Oops.

At least I don't call people fat anymore.