Confession Number One

I sleep like a baby.

More specifically, I sleep like I did when I was a baby.

For all twenty-two years of my life, I have been a vehement thumb-sucker. No matter what my parents have said or done, I have refused to give it up.

At first, I thought it was a phase that would pass. My parents thought this too. I thought there would be a day when I would say, "Hey! I don't like to do this anymore!" Or "Hey, I can sleep without this thumb now!" But I never reached that point. I never reached a time when I felt like I wanted to get rid of it. I reached a time when my parents thought it was no longer appropriate for me to suck my thumb. They have tried--my mom still tries--to wheedle me out of it, but there's no turning away. I simply cannot imagine a life in which I did not self-pacify.

For a long time, I was really embarrassed about it. We have this idea that a person, when they reach a certain age, shouldn't need certain comforting things. But why? Is there truly any time in our lives when we are out of the jurisdiction of comfort? Is there a time when we say, "Ok, now I can handle everything on my own?"

Not in my experience.

That's why I keep it up. The feeling of putting my thumb in my mouth is unmatched. It signals to me a time to relax, to lie down and put away the stress of the day. It's a time to settle down and just be ok. It's the best when I'm with Joey, because I can put my head on his chest and my thumb in my mouth. There is literally no place I'd rather be than that.

My mom gets angry sometimes because my sister has now taken to sucking her index finger. But I don't feel guilty about Jessie's decision to self-pacify. After all, who doesn't wish they had instant comfort?

After days like today, when I've spent more than four hours in a crowded lab full of prosected dead people and more hours studying for a huge test and no ice cream, well--at least I've got my thumb.