I never considered myself a good writer.

Shit. I still don’t.

In fact, I think I suck. I can’t really write. I never could, even back in school, I was always made fun of. I actually used a supporting quote once, “The boy ran down the hall” to describe a kid running away from his feelings. Yikes. I mean come on, Jen. My family, never let me live that one down. They still crack up at the dinner table sometimes. My brother, now he can write. Ben is the writer in the family…if you want to read something fabulous, then he is your guy. Me, I’m just a dancer. Ya, I can shake it. I got the moves, but I can’t write to save my life.

So, I found it ironic that this blog ended up with so much attention. That so many people wanted to read what I was putting out there. Why would anyone want to waste their valuable time reading MY bullshit? They must be nuts. Or bored. Or really, really sick. Or maybe, just maybe…I am funny?

Or maybe I can write? Nah…

Or, I can write how I talk, and speak. And I can put into words what other people are feeling with an interesting style. Who knows. And truly, who even gives a fuck. I throw out the “f-bomb” and I talk about silly stuff…and sappy crap, and real-life drama that other women would never admit to doing…like, EVER. And I just don’t care what people think. And all y’all just eat it up. Why? Because I’m ballsy. Great. So I take risks, and I have no fear. And I like to write. It feels good, to share with 70,000 faceless readers. It’s cathartic. I feel so much better after I post.

But what happens when I screw up?

When I use a name by mistake. Or my kids read it. Or I hurt someones feelings. Or I’m at a store, and women are talking about me, meanly. Or my friends stop being my friends for no reason. Or if I have to start “watching what I’m saying”. Or my boyfriend’s parents read it. Or I am actually thinking before I write. Or I am worried about my safety. Or it’s not fun anymore. Then what?

What do I do, when writing the way I like to write doesn’t feel, well… right? I mean, when it starts to feel just plain…wrong? 

I pull the plug on The Truth Hurvitz. 

My life isn’t that important. I’m not some flippin’ famous person, or superstar. I haven’t solved world peace, or won Survivor. I’m just Jen. A chick that has an Autistic kid, survived a move to Charlotte from the D….a pretty tough separation, and lived to tell about it. Hey, that is it. Nothing else. I chose to blog about it, to help other women, and maybe a few men…get through it, and not feel so damn alone. I thought by sharing my stories, it would maybe take some tension off everyone else. That’s all. No grand scheme, no plot. No malintent. Just wanted to vent, and help a few people in the process. Don’t be haters, ok? Don’t be jealous. Or mean. I love this blog. It makes me so happy, and I am sad. My heart hurts, and I don’t want to stop writing. But the timing is perfect…

Today, I signed a lease on a new house. I am moving out of the “nest”. The boys are excited, I am excited…Mark is excited. We are ready. All good things must come to an end. We co-parented as long as we deemed necessary, and now it’s time for the “birdies” to fly from the nest. I love it. We are all stronger for it, and better equipped to handle the typical divorced living situation. The boys will have 2 houses now, and go back and forth. I will have my own space, and Mark will have his. Sigh. It’s bittersweet, ya know? The nest is no longer the nest. ha. And I am now the proud owner of my very own rental property. While my ex gets my gorgeous house that I decorated and made all beautiful (thank you, Angie), I get the rental down the street. No I’m not bitter, really. It’s all good. I get a huge back yard. And my own master bedroom suite. And shit, I even get two doggie doors for my pissing-pups.

Life is good.

Change is good. It’s time to move forward, and leave the past behind me. Hakunah Matatah. Closing doors, and opening new ones. Saying goodbye to the nest, and the blog…is hard. I am sad. I’ll miss this, talking to all y’all. And sharing my feelings and thoughts. Shit. I’m totally crying. I’m a total loser. What is wrong with me? omg. I’m embarrassed. I’m fucking crying!!! It’s just that we have become so close over the past 4 months, that’s all. But who knows what the future holds. I hate change. I lied. I hate it! Ugh. I need to blow my nose. I am the ugliest crier, for god sake.

I know, no one likes goodbyes. That’s why I refuse to say them. Instead, like they say in Hawaii…”This is not goodbye, just so long for now”.  I will be back one day, I’m sure. Thank you for all the love and support, it means more to me than you will ever know. And look for my book, hopefully on shelves next fall….My Half-Jewish Vagina, I think it’s going to be a NY Times Bestseller. ;)

xo j