It wasn't too long ago that I was learning how to live life as a girl who's new status of "single" was forced upon me after my ex- husband called me at work one day to tell me that he was at our home packing up his things and that he, his toothbrush, his pillow that seemed previously so comfortable on our bed next to mine, and all traces of what was "us", was over. Vanished. As if our legal and emotional commitment never existed in the first place. I walked in the front door that night after work to find his closet empty of everything but the hangers that used to hold his clothes and the true realization that in one instant someone can simply change their mind and alter your world so drastically that you find it hard to catch your bearings or your breath.
The following months found me frantically following the bubbles. A long time ago I watched a documentary that taught me that if I were ever drowning that I must find the bubbles and follow them to the surface in order to survive. So I did just that. Day after day was an endless attempt to simply follow the bubbles. It was impossible to make any sense of it all and I certainly had no blue print for dealing with such intense and overwhelming pain. There was no how-to manual that could have held me through the lonely nights or comforted me in any way that would have helped begin to heal my completely broken heart. Everything that I knew my world and my future to be and to look like were not there any more.
Within weeks after he left I was utterly exhausted from lack of sleep and while I don't typically believe in the western worlds view of "give it a pill and all will be okay", I knew that something drastic had to happen. I couldn't deal with my reality. I couldn't function. I had no place to put the pain if only for a few short hours so that I could find some respite. So I took myself to the doctor.
I stopped crying long enough to compose myself and believed that I could hold it together to get through my appointment. And then came that damn patient form you have to fill out. I was doing fine until I got to the worst question in the world. Who Do We Contact In Case Of Emergency? I was stopped dead in my tracks. All breath escaped me. Hands started to tremble. Eyes welled up with tears. I had no In Case of Emergency anymore. That moment in time stands as the most painful and lonely moment of my life to date. I was all alone. I had no one to stand up for me in case there was an emergency. No one in my corner. No one who believed I mattered enough to advocate for me if something were to happen. Of course my mother was always that person for me prior to meeting my ex, but my mother was now five hours away. What life saving decisions could she make for me if need be? She couldn't rush to my side to hold my hand if I needed a hand-holder.
I know that I was not the only single girl on this planet who has found herself in this position but you must understand that my reality was foggy at best for the following few years. Nothing made sense. Everything was painful. Going out with my girlfriends was great until I realized that there would be no one waiting for me to get home to ask me if I had had a good time. My pain was universal but devastating nonetheless. I took my marriage vows very seriously and meant it when I said "For Better Or Worse, 'Til Death Do Us Part". I just didn't know that I was the only in the marriage who had.
So why revisit this most painful time in my life? One reason is because I truly believe that if you don't remember those moments in your past (good or bad) that have created your life as you know it now then you fail to really learn the lessons that have been given to you. To remember how far I have come from my darkest days allow me the privilege of feeling the pride that often overwhelms me for getting through something that seemed, at the time, insurmountable. I was broken. And now I am more complete and more whole than I could have ever imagined that day in the doctors office. And not solely because I now have someone special, but because I carried on and fought my hardest battle, coming out the other side with no anger or bitterness. No one could have gotten me through that but myself. As wounded as I was I'm still standing.
Second, because I realized today that two years ago on this very day I had no idea how the foreseeable next few years were going to unfold. I had yet to decide that I was moving from my home for 13 years in San Diego and my life was predictable. I didn't love being single, but it wasn't so bad either. My girlfriends were my life blood and all was status quo. I could have never imagined that in 30 short days my new chapter would reveal itself.
Two years ago next month, on August 13th, 2010, I met who would come to be one of the best things to ever happen to me. I answered a phone call from a guy whom I had met once in college, who's parents went to high school with mine, who used to run in the same high school track meets as my older brother, and who would become my husband exactly one year later.
I've been thinking all day "Two years ago today I was living my last 30 days as a single girl and had no idea."
Now I look around at all that we have created in this chapter together, the memories that we have packed into the last 23 months, the 4-legged children that we have rescued and adore, the home that is full of love, acceptance, laughter, adventure, support, and authenticity. Because of my past my soul reminds me every single day to cherish and appreciate what I now have. Someone who tears up for me as he watches me cross my finish lines because he understands how much it means to me. Someone who does my hair for me when I can't because of my disability. Someone who believes in my life's work when I find myself second guessing it all. Someone who gives of himself so completely that I am often overwhelmed and intensly humbled.
He has righted all of the wrongs. He has restored my faith in love.
Life Lesson:
It may not always make sense at the time. As in life, the tests come before the lessons. It may hurt so badly that you can only see your world in black and white and you fear that you will never experience color again. But your job is to remember two things: (1) Just. Keep. Going. and (2) The Universe Always Trades Up. Always.
PS....Whenever I come to that Who May We Contact In Case of Emergency question now, my heart smiles just a little bit.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Brave
Update: I did NOT die on, during, or shortly after my last race. There were moments that I was certain the end was approaching but I resisted going towards the light. Shortly after I crossed the finish line I almost passed out, my tiny fingers turned in to tiny sausages (dehydreation), at times on the course I had a small rock in my shoe but knew if I sat down on a curb that I would be found there days later having never gotten my coveted medal, and just today, almost 2 months post-race, I lost my big toe nail from the bruising I received from the hills on that bloody course. Gross, I know, but such is the life of a distance runner. I'm pretty sure that my husband thought I was being a baby about the whole thing but I believe he may be singing a different tune now that he gets to stare at 1/3 of what was my big toe nail on my left foot. Ha!
"Change Your Fate"..... Much has been weighing on my mind lately and I don't belive it a coincidence (I don't believe in coincidences, period) that this most incredible movie from the geniuses at Pixar, was released when I most needed it. I could go on and on about the beauty of this animated masterpiece, but I'm not much into movie reviews. However, this movie created a blubbering idiot in the movie theatre and as the lights came up during the rolling credits I was no doubt frightening every child around me as they exited the theatre. Even now, I have to swallow a bit harder from the lump in my throat just thinking about it.
So what's the big deal? I suppose the big deal for me is that even as a 35 year old woman I am learning life lessons from Disney movies, or moreover, finding validation from them. Who would've thought?
Lately I have found myself almost paralyzed with fear.
I find that I am stratling the fence between total and utter failure and seeing, believeng, and experiencing my wildest dreams coming true. More scary is that there seems to be a comfort level with the failure part. If I fail then I fail. I at least had the guts to try. No harm. No foul. I get a desk job, work 8a-5p by somebody elses rules, live pay check to pay check, become frighteningly obsessed with weekends, and.....and.....become everything I have always known I was never supposed to be.
Success, on the other hand, sends shivers of fear down my spine like nothing I have ever experienced before and the closer I get to what I imagined my life to be the more of a hold it has had on me lately. For every inspirational speaking presentation I book I become more and more fearful that what I have to say really isn't as inspirational as I once thought it to be when I was practicing my speech out loud to myself in my office. I have, what I picture to be, this nasty little green man that sits on my shoulder and whispers in my ear words of defeat, of negativity, of not being enough, of failure. And yet, people tell me time and time again that my life story is inspirational and that they will (thankfully) pay me to tell it. I suppose when one has lived it, when one has mudled through the muck and the heartbreak, the pain and the rejection of life (from classmates to friends to fathers to ex-husbands) it is simply universally more difficult to see what others see as they are on the outside looking in. I aknowledge that my journey has made me wise beyond my years, more compassionate than my little heart can sometimes handle, and sadly, sometimes more self defeating and heart broken than I know what do with; but I struggle to believe that coming out the other side of all of the pain that I have endured can be inspirational to others who are on their own path. I teeter between declairing my speaking as a profession and sheepishly mentioning it in passing to another person.
I know that I know that I know that I am on the cusp of my own personal greatness (whatever that may look like) because I have taken the risks to be BRAVE and courageous in my life. To change my fate from what others (my mother) believes my life should look like and what my heart has always told me I was born to do. Isn't it amazing that running 13.1 miles doesn't scare me half as much as the success I have always dreamed/wished/hoped for for myself does? Oprah always says "To whom much is given, much is expected." which I interpret to mean that I have been given my tests and trials along with the stubborn and head-strong attitude to come out the other side of my challenges with a story to tell that may help another. Whether it's a room full of people or sitting across the table with a friend, I now understand that the rent I must pay to take up space on this planet is to help others through their own journey. I am by no means a perfect person but I have lessons to teach.
I found a fantastic canvas print in a small boutique one day that now hangs above my desk. It reads "Your story matters (tell it)." I stare at it every day (and make my little green monster stare at it too). All roads lead to a life of sharing my stories. At times I wish they hadn't been what would make an interesting lesson to share someday (I feel fairly certain that I could have lived without a lesson or two that brought me to my knees in pain)...but it's becoming more clear that that "someday" is now my "today".
So for now I will say this to myself to slow my rapid heart beat, clear my mind, and connect back to my soul....
Monday, April 30, 2012
I'm pretty sure I'm going to die on Sunday....
Well, okay, maybe not die in the literal term....but whatever I look like crossing that finish line on Sunday morning I know for a fact that it will not be pretty.
I haven't really mentioned via blog yet but I have taken up distance running and another half marathon is on the horizon. The problem? I have had little to no motivation to train for this race. None. Nada. Zero. Zilch. So, it's very likely that, while I have no one to blame but myself, that I will inevitably curse my life while around mile 10ish and there is no doubt in my mind that my poor husband will get the brunt of my pain and frustrations once we are out of public view. Or the last option....I will sit my sorry little a** on the concrete immediately after I cross that finish line. Other runners be damned.
Here's is what I know wholeheartedly about myself. I am not "hard core". I am not a "bad ass". I am not any of those bitchin' terms that describe those insane Type A's that run a race as if they are actually being chased. I'm not that. I will never be that. I will forever be the girl who is to the farthest right side of the road desperately searching for the next mile marker and swearing that I will never spend my hard earned money to put myself through another race, again! I will never win a half marathon (it's always a funny thing to even begin a race that you know, for a fact, that you're never going to win) but then....isn't life all about deciding what "winning" looks like to your own personal self?
And here's another thing....for those of you who don't know me (and, judging by my blog stats that show me that there are people in Europe that read my blog and I don't know anyone in Europe at the present time, I am to assume there are dear readers that don't, in fact, know me personally) I should add to this story that I have a rare dis/ABILITY of my hands and arms that I have had since birth. My life has exceeded all medical expectations for my existence and my races are just the latest in a string of accomplishments that are who I am. That being said....whenever I run I look like a chicken who is trying to out run and escape it's impending doom by the butcher. Seriously....because my hands and arms don't hang straight by my side it means that they also don't run exactly pretty while powering me through whatever race I'm running. The flail about, taking up twice as much personal space as everyone else on the course, and while I am sure I have left a runner or two in my wake as I pass them without even an "I'm sorry" for smacking them, I still run.
I'm not sure how many races I will run before I feel comfortable calling myself a "runner". I know that you don't need a license to be one, you don't need to run races to call yourself one, and you don't need to sport a medal to prove to yourself that you can run with the big dogs so therefore you're a "runner". There's a part of me that still feels like a poser. Like one of these days my medals are going to be revoked and I'm going to be black-balled from the running community. I know that is not actually the case, but I suppose it goes back to having to prove myself and my abilities every single day of my life. Doing precisely what everyone else in my world has said that I couldn't do-whether that's feeding myself, brushing my hair, driving a car unassisted, becoming a cheerleader, running my own business successfully, or running half marathons. Everything I have ever done in my life, everything that I had set out to do or dreamed into existence, meant that I was already entering the proverbial ring as the under dog. Prove myself. Prove myself. Prove myself. Feels like my life's mantra. But then, it wasn't just about proving that I could do something, it was then about making it look easy while I did it. Little did anyone know that it took me extra hours to learn how to tie my shoe laces or build up what little arm muscles I have to be able to control a car so I could feel freedom just like everyone else. The beauty of running is that when I'm on that course, sweating it out, digging deep, questioning my abilities with all that I have but never loosing sight of crossing that finish line, praying that my body doesn't fail me with every step yet feeling pain like I've never experienced before, the truth is that I know I'm not the only one. So for that, I suppose I am just like every other runner powering through it all. Hell, I. Am. A. Runner.
Half and full marathons are not for the faint of heart. They are not for the self doubters or non believers. They are hard. They are ruthless and unrelenting. They are fantastic.
See you on the other side of my next 13.1 miles.
I haven't really mentioned via blog yet but I have taken up distance running and another half marathon is on the horizon. The problem? I have had little to no motivation to train for this race. None. Nada. Zero. Zilch. So, it's very likely that, while I have no one to blame but myself, that I will inevitably curse my life while around mile 10ish and there is no doubt in my mind that my poor husband will get the brunt of my pain and frustrations once we are out of public view. Or the last option....I will sit my sorry little a** on the concrete immediately after I cross that finish line. Other runners be damned.
Here's is what I know wholeheartedly about myself. I am not "hard core". I am not a "bad ass". I am not any of those bitchin' terms that describe those insane Type A's that run a race as if they are actually being chased. I'm not that. I will never be that. I will forever be the girl who is to the farthest right side of the road desperately searching for the next mile marker and swearing that I will never spend my hard earned money to put myself through another race, again! I will never win a half marathon (it's always a funny thing to even begin a race that you know, for a fact, that you're never going to win) but then....isn't life all about deciding what "winning" looks like to your own personal self?
And here's another thing....for those of you who don't know me (and, judging by my blog stats that show me that there are people in Europe that read my blog and I don't know anyone in Europe at the present time, I am to assume there are dear readers that don't, in fact, know me personally) I should add to this story that I have a rare dis/ABILITY of my hands and arms that I have had since birth. My life has exceeded all medical expectations for my existence and my races are just the latest in a string of accomplishments that are who I am. That being said....whenever I run I look like a chicken who is trying to out run and escape it's impending doom by the butcher. Seriously....because my hands and arms don't hang straight by my side it means that they also don't run exactly pretty while powering me through whatever race I'm running. The flail about, taking up twice as much personal space as everyone else on the course, and while I am sure I have left a runner or two in my wake as I pass them without even an "I'm sorry" for smacking them, I still run.
I'm not sure how many races I will run before I feel comfortable calling myself a "runner". I know that you don't need a license to be one, you don't need to run races to call yourself one, and you don't need to sport a medal to prove to yourself that you can run with the big dogs so therefore you're a "runner". There's a part of me that still feels like a poser. Like one of these days my medals are going to be revoked and I'm going to be black-balled from the running community. I know that is not actually the case, but I suppose it goes back to having to prove myself and my abilities every single day of my life. Doing precisely what everyone else in my world has said that I couldn't do-whether that's feeding myself, brushing my hair, driving a car unassisted, becoming a cheerleader, running my own business successfully, or running half marathons. Everything I have ever done in my life, everything that I had set out to do or dreamed into existence, meant that I was already entering the proverbial ring as the under dog. Prove myself. Prove myself. Prove myself. Feels like my life's mantra. But then, it wasn't just about proving that I could do something, it was then about making it look easy while I did it. Little did anyone know that it took me extra hours to learn how to tie my shoe laces or build up what little arm muscles I have to be able to control a car so I could feel freedom just like everyone else. The beauty of running is that when I'm on that course, sweating it out, digging deep, questioning my abilities with all that I have but never loosing sight of crossing that finish line, praying that my body doesn't fail me with every step yet feeling pain like I've never experienced before, the truth is that I know I'm not the only one. So for that, I suppose I am just like every other runner powering through it all. Hell, I. Am. A. Runner.
Half and full marathons are not for the faint of heart. They are not for the self doubters or non believers. They are hard. They are ruthless and unrelenting. They are fantastic.
See you on the other side of my next 13.1 miles.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Friends with Kids????
You should know that if you're looking for a movie review, this isn't it. If you're looking for a girl who is up at 5 in the morning because of the conversations in her head from watching this movie, you've hit jack pot.
I just realized that it's been since September since I've last posted, clearly I am terrible at keeping up with this thing, but at this moment I need to send some energy out into the cosmic void. Who knows, maybe I'm looking for answers somewhere other than within myself this time because I tend to keep going around and around in my head and getting absolutely no where lately.
You should know that I have absolutely NO idea what the next phase of my life is going to look like. I think that everyone in my (our) inner circle assumed that Matthew and I would start having children right away...after all, I AM 35 years old, and as my doctor has told me, we should start trying to have children within the year. The problem?? I had a panic attack on the drive home from the doctors office that night and ran through a list in my head of all of the things I wanted to do before D-Day. The day. The day that we decide to throw away the birth control and try to bring a life into this world. The day that I consciously decide to change my life-my world forever. The day that I choose to allow my love for another being, whom I haven't even met yet, to eclipse the love I have for my husband. After all, most any parent will tell you (at least, Lord knows they feel the desire to tell me,that this parent-child love is more than anything they've ever experienced before). I was SO happy that the movie addressed this issue and made me feel a little less like an a**h*** in my thinking that it truly is the most ridiculous thing I've almost ever heard. It would break my heart if my husband felt that I loved something/ someone more than him. (Ok parents, here's where you're supposed to tell me "It's a DIFFERENT love for your children, not more than or less than).
So here's the question I'm really sending "out there"......WHY DO PEOPLE HAVE CHILDREN?!?!?? If only you knew how many times I have posed this question to my friends, and if only you knew how just about every single one of them was not only caught off guard, but who stumbled in the answering of it. Like they had never thought about it before. The options are (A) Ego? Do you feel that in order to earn your place on this planet that you must give back in the form of a child that will (hopefully) leave an impression on this planet greater than when they (or you) arrived? Here's the flaw in that....you can't EVER put expectations on another living being like that. It's not fair to them, and likely, they will never live up to your standards. (B) Religious? (C) Are you "checking a box" on your life list and you've just always assumed that you would have children? (D) Why not?? (Lord help us all if that's the reason!) or (E) Because you have so much love and wisdom to give that it would be severing a limb to not give that out to an off-spring?? But here's the question about that....can't you find other places to give it out?? Your local animal shelter? Becoming a hospice volunteer? Fighting world hunger? OH! Wait! Here's (F) and I hear this one A LOT!... "I don't want to grow old alone. I want someone to visit me in the old-folks home. Which is absolutely ridiculous in it's own right on so many levels. How self centered. And really, who's to say your kids are gonna WANT to be around you when you're old and gray? Maybe they just won't be those kinds of people.
I admit that there are moments that come on like a flash and leave just as quickly, when I'm folding laundry or driving in my car, when I think for a brief moment "Hey, it just might be kinda fun to have a kid here with me." But immediately, I am then reminded that I really, REALLY love my sleep. That I am surrounded by example after example of mothers who are just trying to hold on to themselves and not get lost in the daily's of motherhood. I like not being tied down (that's the gypsy in me), and what I realized in my therapists office the other day is, I am not one of those people who need to be needed. In fact, I'd prefer it if you don't need me at all. Love me for being in your life, love that I will always be there for you as a friend, love me that I am the most loyal person you'll ever meet, love me for being out-spoken and having my opinions, love me for the generous, kind, giving person that I am....but don't need me. And also, my life is pretty flippin' fantastic as it is. I want for nothing, I'm a woman entrepreneur, and my life is full of "living" at the moment. So...will a child hinder this awesomeness, or make it "more"? That it the question of the hour.
We live in this society that runs rampant with "romantic talk" and it has always driven me up a flippin' wall.... "He's my soul mate", "YOU COMPLETE ME" (ugh. Effin' Jerry Maguire!). "I want to spend forever with you". No. Stop it. Know that I am CHOOSING to be here, with you now, and love me for the fact that out of everyone in the entire world, it's YOU that I choose to spend my day with. I don't expect that you will be with me forever (I may hope very much so that you will be, but expect it? That's just setting yourself up for disappointment) and I certainly don't expect that your presence "completes me" as a human being. Let's not forget that no person will ever be "complete". A big part of this life is the journey (your own journey) and the growth. You may aspire to be whole, but complete (or perfectt, for that matter) will never be attainable. "My kids are my life" (NOTHING-not. one. thing.-should be "your life". That's too much pressure on the "thing"). "It's all consuming to be a parent." Bleh. Again, nothing should consume your life. Leave room for the surprises along the way. I know that this talk is used to validate whatever relationship one is speaking about, but who needs to be validated? You love. I get that. You're loved. I get that too. Enough said. And, I am SO happy for you that you have "people". I wish that for evey single person on this planet. But seriously, people are obsessed with this kind of talk (and similarly, Facebook posts) only to the detriment of themselves.
And then there's the question of this...do I want to bring a child into this world? A world where our political parties are more interested in playing defense for their team than to put the welfare of their citizens before anything else. Where men are still (or, again) making decisions for my body and I can't do a damn thing about it. A world where women are being called "sluts" on national television (throw in political rhetoric here but the fact is, this WOMAN-not "slut"-had an opinion and she was called a nasty name because of it. Period.). A world where no one really knows how to communicate anymore thanks to our "auto reply" messages that will do it for us. And, God forbid the kids of today should have to talk on a phone! A world where we're more concerned about "getting ours" than making sure everyone "gets theirs" too. A world where watching a protest from the comfort of our homes makes us feel as though we're "doing something", instead of actually DOING SOMETHING! A world where children will, more often than not, dictate an adult conversation (not their fault, by nature they are self centered), and parents who let them do it. A world where more parents make their children their world, than make their relationship the nucleus of the family and the children were brought into it simply to make it more beautiful.
I should mention that I have been blessed with an incredible man who does factor into this decision, and who gives me enough space to figure out what's best for me. He did say to me "I think you're over thinking this baby thing" and I said to him "Shouldn't I?!? If I'm going to spend a long time deciding on if I want to commit to a person- by paper- for the rest of my life, shouldn't I give equal attention to bringing another human being onto this planet whom I can't divorce or leave?" His support, and his desire for me to be no one other than myself, is not lost on me on a daily basis. I live in gratitude that he puts no pressure on me, ever. And though I know he wants children so badly, he wants me to be happy, content, and peaceful, whatever that looks like for us even more so. There is no doubt that I am the more male energy in the relationship when it comes to this matter and I am just SO thankful that I have someone who so beautifully balances me with his love and acceptance.
So, cosmic void, thanks for indulging me. I'm not sure if this has cleared anything up for me yet, but I do know this....everything has its time......
I just realized that it's been since September since I've last posted, clearly I am terrible at keeping up with this thing, but at this moment I need to send some energy out into the cosmic void. Who knows, maybe I'm looking for answers somewhere other than within myself this time because I tend to keep going around and around in my head and getting absolutely no where lately.
You should know that I have absolutely NO idea what the next phase of my life is going to look like. I think that everyone in my (our) inner circle assumed that Matthew and I would start having children right away...after all, I AM 35 years old, and as my doctor has told me, we should start trying to have children within the year. The problem?? I had a panic attack on the drive home from the doctors office that night and ran through a list in my head of all of the things I wanted to do before D-Day. The day. The day that we decide to throw away the birth control and try to bring a life into this world. The day that I consciously decide to change my life-my world forever. The day that I choose to allow my love for another being, whom I haven't even met yet, to eclipse the love I have for my husband. After all, most any parent will tell you (at least, Lord knows they feel the desire to tell me,that this parent-child love is more than anything they've ever experienced before). I was SO happy that the movie addressed this issue and made me feel a little less like an a**h*** in my thinking that it truly is the most ridiculous thing I've almost ever heard. It would break my heart if my husband felt that I loved something/ someone more than him. (Ok parents, here's where you're supposed to tell me "It's a DIFFERENT love for your children, not more than or less than).
So here's the question I'm really sending "out there"......WHY DO PEOPLE HAVE CHILDREN?!?!?? If only you knew how many times I have posed this question to my friends, and if only you knew how just about every single one of them was not only caught off guard, but who stumbled in the answering of it. Like they had never thought about it before. The options are (A) Ego? Do you feel that in order to earn your place on this planet that you must give back in the form of a child that will (hopefully) leave an impression on this planet greater than when they (or you) arrived? Here's the flaw in that....you can't EVER put expectations on another living being like that. It's not fair to them, and likely, they will never live up to your standards. (B) Religious? (C) Are you "checking a box" on your life list and you've just always assumed that you would have children? (D) Why not?? (Lord help us all if that's the reason!) or (E) Because you have so much love and wisdom to give that it would be severing a limb to not give that out to an off-spring?? But here's the question about that....can't you find other places to give it out?? Your local animal shelter? Becoming a hospice volunteer? Fighting world hunger? OH! Wait! Here's (F) and I hear this one A LOT!... "I don't want to grow old alone. I want someone to visit me in the old-folks home. Which is absolutely ridiculous in it's own right on so many levels. How self centered. And really, who's to say your kids are gonna WANT to be around you when you're old and gray? Maybe they just won't be those kinds of people.
I admit that there are moments that come on like a flash and leave just as quickly, when I'm folding laundry or driving in my car, when I think for a brief moment "Hey, it just might be kinda fun to have a kid here with me." But immediately, I am then reminded that I really, REALLY love my sleep. That I am surrounded by example after example of mothers who are just trying to hold on to themselves and not get lost in the daily's of motherhood. I like not being tied down (that's the gypsy in me), and what I realized in my therapists office the other day is, I am not one of those people who need to be needed. In fact, I'd prefer it if you don't need me at all. Love me for being in your life, love that I will always be there for you as a friend, love me that I am the most loyal person you'll ever meet, love me for being out-spoken and having my opinions, love me for the generous, kind, giving person that I am....but don't need me. And also, my life is pretty flippin' fantastic as it is. I want for nothing, I'm a woman entrepreneur, and my life is full of "living" at the moment. So...will a child hinder this awesomeness, or make it "more"? That it the question of the hour.
We live in this society that runs rampant with "romantic talk" and it has always driven me up a flippin' wall.... "He's my soul mate", "YOU COMPLETE ME" (ugh. Effin' Jerry Maguire!). "I want to spend forever with you". No. Stop it. Know that I am CHOOSING to be here, with you now, and love me for the fact that out of everyone in the entire world, it's YOU that I choose to spend my day with. I don't expect that you will be with me forever (I may hope very much so that you will be, but expect it? That's just setting yourself up for disappointment) and I certainly don't expect that your presence "completes me" as a human being. Let's not forget that no person will ever be "complete". A big part of this life is the journey (your own journey) and the growth. You may aspire to be whole, but complete (or perfectt, for that matter) will never be attainable. "My kids are my life" (NOTHING-not. one. thing.-should be "your life". That's too much pressure on the "thing"). "It's all consuming to be a parent." Bleh. Again, nothing should consume your life. Leave room for the surprises along the way. I know that this talk is used to validate whatever relationship one is speaking about, but who needs to be validated? You love. I get that. You're loved. I get that too. Enough said. And, I am SO happy for you that you have "people". I wish that for evey single person on this planet. But seriously, people are obsessed with this kind of talk (and similarly, Facebook posts) only to the detriment of themselves.
And then there's the question of this...do I want to bring a child into this world? A world where our political parties are more interested in playing defense for their team than to put the welfare of their citizens before anything else. Where men are still (or, again) making decisions for my body and I can't do a damn thing about it. A world where women are being called "sluts" on national television (throw in political rhetoric here but the fact is, this WOMAN-not "slut"-had an opinion and she was called a nasty name because of it. Period.). A world where no one really knows how to communicate anymore thanks to our "auto reply" messages that will do it for us. And, God forbid the kids of today should have to talk on a phone! A world where we're more concerned about "getting ours" than making sure everyone "gets theirs" too. A world where watching a protest from the comfort of our homes makes us feel as though we're "doing something", instead of actually DOING SOMETHING! A world where children will, more often than not, dictate an adult conversation (not their fault, by nature they are self centered), and parents who let them do it. A world where more parents make their children their world, than make their relationship the nucleus of the family and the children were brought into it simply to make it more beautiful.
I should mention that I have been blessed with an incredible man who does factor into this decision, and who gives me enough space to figure out what's best for me. He did say to me "I think you're over thinking this baby thing" and I said to him "Shouldn't I?!? If I'm going to spend a long time deciding on if I want to commit to a person- by paper- for the rest of my life, shouldn't I give equal attention to bringing another human being onto this planet whom I can't divorce or leave?" His support, and his desire for me to be no one other than myself, is not lost on me on a daily basis. I live in gratitude that he puts no pressure on me, ever. And though I know he wants children so badly, he wants me to be happy, content, and peaceful, whatever that looks like for us even more so. There is no doubt that I am the more male energy in the relationship when it comes to this matter and I am just SO thankful that I have someone who so beautifully balances me with his love and acceptance.
So, cosmic void, thanks for indulging me. I'm not sure if this has cleared anything up for me yet, but I do know this....everything has its time......
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)