Today my oldest guy as of 7:55pm will be 6 years old. Having three kids, I work hard to make their birthdays special...mind you, those young enough not to remember their birthday cakes might end up getting cupcakes instead. Those who are 6 are getting the full deal with me hiring my wonderfully talented, but smart ass friend to make his ocean themed cake. So when my kids are in therapy, their birthday cakes are not going to be a subject for discussion.
All that said, there is something special for me for my oldest's birthday, because it marks the day when I first became a mother. Sure, you can say that starts at conception, but it's a totally different deal when you have a baby on the outside and you have to change diapers, nurse around the clock and get less sleep than you could possibly imagine. You also get to experience that love and wonder for the first time when you hold that little gift in your arms and not to over romaticize it, you also get to experience the panic that you feel when you have your first bout of "Baby's crying and nothing I can do is making him stop!!!" Me, I bravely reacted to that scenario by crying my eyes out, in my defense, I was 36 hours post partum.
Two more kids for me and I can say that this parenting gig is pretty hard, but I somehow manage to do it pretty well...if I do say so myself! Once in a while, you'll get a parent to be ask you for a piece of advice, my best tidbit of wisdom is be flexible. People get all sorts of funny ideas when they first find out that they are expecting. They map out the child's life from the birth plan to education to what food they'll eat, what friends they'll have, what activities they'll do. While I'm not saying to abandon the big picture, I'm also saying don't be married to it, and all the bazillion details, are not going to be set in stone. Sure, you can have a detailed birth plan set in stone about how you're going to have that baby, but when something goes awry, it's tossed out the door and being disappointed about that when you're safe and have a healthy baby in your arms is not going to set a good pace for the next thousand years of parenting. Like when your kid picks up a friend's blaster and automatically knows what to do with it, despite your no guns rule. Or when they discover junk food and demand candy every day after Halloween for the next three months...my kids have even started early on that bent. Or even when the bigger picture gets nuked and your family changes altogether, how can you deal if you're not prepared to roll with the punches? This last year has been hard for me and my kids. I was recently criticized on my parenting and the old me would have taken that to heart and been upset, but I turned out indignant and came back at that person very strongly about my parenting skills. My kids aren't acting out horribly, they're doing well in school, socially and emotionally and as much as it is their accomplishment in rolling with the punches, it is also mine.
Parenting is a crazy job. I think a lot of people love their careers, but I can't imagine being as emotionally invested in any job as much as you are in this. You're never prepared, you always have to think on your feet. I once had to apologize to God and offer my explanation of panicking because I compared Santa Claus to Jesus. I'm sure God will understand, obviously thinking on my feet is not my forte. You can be brought to tears, experience profound wonder and laugh until your sides hurt all within a matter of a few minutes courtesy of your kids. Your endurance will be challenged in ways that would make marathon runners weep and the rewards are plentiful and amazing. With all of this going on, can you see why my advice is to be flexible.
So happy birthday to my oldest. He is a wonderfully sensitive and strong little fella. He's the first to offer someone a hug and tell them how much he loves them. He's brilliant just like his ma with an insane obsession for sharks, dinosaurs and all things prehistoric. He's funny, silly and very much the little boy who still loves to bring me bouquets of dandelions and bottlecaps. In looking at my blessings this year, me being a parent to three wonderful little guys is tops on my list, and it all started 6 years ago with my Ninja.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Being Thankful
Lets face it, I've had a rough year and at first shot, thinking of things to be thankful for bring a bit of a cynical snort. A friend told me to start a list of all that is good in my life, what I'm thankful for is a good starter because I'm thankful for these good things in my life.
My hair: Just kidding, though I do love it.
10. My health: I know this is cliche, but really, the fact that I'm upright and relatively healthy. That I can race my boys in an orchard or pick up my baby with no difficulty is pretty important. And apparently I own healing.
9. Financial wiggle room: Money doesn't buy happiness, but not having to live hand to mouth everyday (I've been there) keeps the stress at bay.
8. Canadian healthcare: I know, it's weird, but I've been going to the doctor quite a bit, and it's been much needed visits. I'm glad that I have that opportunity and don't have to think twice if I can afford another trip.
7. My age: My life as I knew it was pretty much blown apart in a big Hollywood Bruce Willis scene explosion way. However, the good news is, that I'm young enough that it actually seems fairly feasible to start anew.
6. My resilience: "I get knocked, but I get up again, you're never going to keep me down!" to quote Chumbawumba. I do have to say that some times I'm mighty proud of myself for getting back up again and not going Incredible Hulk smashing through any and all hurts. They say that divorce is like a death, it is in many ways in that you're grieving something that was very near and dear to you. However with death, it's final, done and you have to get over that one giant horrible hurdle. This is like one big giant hurdle, then a bunch of awful smaller ones, brings to mind the saying "death by a thousand paper cuts" and some days that is what it feels like. That said, I'm still here, getting out of bed everyday, being on for three very important little fellas and just in general, keeping on going on.
5. My kids teachers and caregivers: Someone once told me how important quality childcare is in helping you function during your day and it's so true. I can go along my merry business not having to worry if Ms A, Ms H or Aunty T needs me. I know my kids are safe and sound and in the hands of competent people with great judgment.
4. My therapist: Yes, I'm thankful for her. She's listen to me rant and rave, or tried endlessly to make sense of things in my insane Capricorn need to have order in the Universe, she's held me while I cried, she's scolded me for not relaxing while trying to massage me (she's multi-talented). She's built me up and praised me, and has constantly reminded me that I an a good person and very deserving of love.
3. My family and friends: Really, many of them overlap. I tell people that I would not be here if it weren't for them and it's true. They have the full time job (and believe me, I'm a full time job) of helping me through this. My family downtown has welcomed me home with open arms, the safety I feel there is like a drug and something I need so much now. My online friends and hussies have listened "read" me to me pour my heart out, to get my feelings out before acting on them and have offered much love, support and priceless feedback which always gives me such food for thought. I've had several new friends come into my life this year, they play a role because they know only "post marriage" me. They have nothing to compare me too and while this isn't a bad thing, the fact that they've only known post marriage me and will testify in front of a jury of their peers that I'm pretty likeable and not a bitter, ugly, jaded person is encouraging. My besties, well, what can you say about your besties...not enough! From force feeding me (food and once in a while booze), to coming to my rescue after I decided to take on a bus with my minivan, to pimping out their mates (for "icky man" jobs I'm unable or unwilling to do) to dragging me out for a fun night, to listening to me bitch, or holding me when I cry heaving chest sobs of despair. When people hear of the shit my friends have done for me, they look at me with awe and tell me how envious they are and they should be, because without them, I seriously wonder if I'd be here and as sane as I am...which is all relative, but I put up a pretty good front.
2. My faith: Even at my darkest moments asking the inevitable "why me?" my faith has kept me on track. When I've wanted to do dastardly deeds, I would rely a lot on my faith to put me back on the straight and narrow. But it's also not necessarily just my faith in a higher power, but being able to open up my faith and just have faith in that things will turn out. It requires a lot of letting go on my part, and I'm not nearly at a reasonable level of accepting that I do not control every last thing on the planet, but I'm getting there. Letting go a bit does feel pretty good.
1. My kids: Some of you are wondering why I didn't start off with them...this is a countdown! Seriously, I love my guys, they are the lights of my life. I'm happy I get to spend my days watching them grow and develop. I admire them for coming through this hard year so well, they are little troopers. They always make me laugh...along with pulling my hair out, but they are quick to charm me back into adoring them again. My oldest won't get to escape this pain, he's not blessed with uber young age like the other two, but he's been trucking along like the best 6 year old survivor out there. His favourite song is Tubthumping by Chumbawumba, he even sings it complete with the accent (my kid is talented), but he has handled this with such grace and love that he inspires me to continue going on and being a good person despite everything that has happened.
I hope to update this list frequently, but this good to start off with. I think it was a good exercise writing some of the things I'm thankful for, I encourage everyone to give it a go.
My hair: Just kidding, though I do love it.
10. My health: I know this is cliche, but really, the fact that I'm upright and relatively healthy. That I can race my boys in an orchard or pick up my baby with no difficulty is pretty important. And apparently I own healing.
9. Financial wiggle room: Money doesn't buy happiness, but not having to live hand to mouth everyday (I've been there) keeps the stress at bay.
8. Canadian healthcare: I know, it's weird, but I've been going to the doctor quite a bit, and it's been much needed visits. I'm glad that I have that opportunity and don't have to think twice if I can afford another trip.
7. My age: My life as I knew it was pretty much blown apart in a big Hollywood Bruce Willis scene explosion way. However, the good news is, that I'm young enough that it actually seems fairly feasible to start anew.
6. My resilience: "I get knocked, but I get up again, you're never going to keep me down!" to quote Chumbawumba. I do have to say that some times I'm mighty proud of myself for getting back up again and not going Incredible Hulk smashing through any and all hurts. They say that divorce is like a death, it is in many ways in that you're grieving something that was very near and dear to you. However with death, it's final, done and you have to get over that one giant horrible hurdle. This is like one big giant hurdle, then a bunch of awful smaller ones, brings to mind the saying "death by a thousand paper cuts" and some days that is what it feels like. That said, I'm still here, getting out of bed everyday, being on for three very important little fellas and just in general, keeping on going on.
5. My kids teachers and caregivers: Someone once told me how important quality childcare is in helping you function during your day and it's so true. I can go along my merry business not having to worry if Ms A, Ms H or Aunty T needs me. I know my kids are safe and sound and in the hands of competent people with great judgment.
4. My therapist: Yes, I'm thankful for her. She's listen to me rant and rave, or tried endlessly to make sense of things in my insane Capricorn need to have order in the Universe, she's held me while I cried, she's scolded me for not relaxing while trying to massage me (she's multi-talented). She's built me up and praised me, and has constantly reminded me that I an a good person and very deserving of love.
3. My family and friends: Really, many of them overlap. I tell people that I would not be here if it weren't for them and it's true. They have the full time job (and believe me, I'm a full time job) of helping me through this. My family downtown has welcomed me home with open arms, the safety I feel there is like a drug and something I need so much now. My online friends and hussies have listened "read" me to me pour my heart out, to get my feelings out before acting on them and have offered much love, support and priceless feedback which always gives me such food for thought. I've had several new friends come into my life this year, they play a role because they know only "post marriage" me. They have nothing to compare me too and while this isn't a bad thing, the fact that they've only known post marriage me and will testify in front of a jury of their peers that I'm pretty likeable and not a bitter, ugly, jaded person is encouraging. My besties, well, what can you say about your besties...not enough! From force feeding me (food and once in a while booze), to coming to my rescue after I decided to take on a bus with my minivan, to pimping out their mates (for "icky man" jobs I'm unable or unwilling to do) to dragging me out for a fun night, to listening to me bitch, or holding me when I cry heaving chest sobs of despair. When people hear of the shit my friends have done for me, they look at me with awe and tell me how envious they are and they should be, because without them, I seriously wonder if I'd be here and as sane as I am...which is all relative, but I put up a pretty good front.
2. My faith: Even at my darkest moments asking the inevitable "why me?" my faith has kept me on track. When I've wanted to do dastardly deeds, I would rely a lot on my faith to put me back on the straight and narrow. But it's also not necessarily just my faith in a higher power, but being able to open up my faith and just have faith in that things will turn out. It requires a lot of letting go on my part, and I'm not nearly at a reasonable level of accepting that I do not control every last thing on the planet, but I'm getting there. Letting go a bit does feel pretty good.
1. My kids: Some of you are wondering why I didn't start off with them...this is a countdown! Seriously, I love my guys, they are the lights of my life. I'm happy I get to spend my days watching them grow and develop. I admire them for coming through this hard year so well, they are little troopers. They always make me laugh...along with pulling my hair out, but they are quick to charm me back into adoring them again. My oldest won't get to escape this pain, he's not blessed with uber young age like the other two, but he's been trucking along like the best 6 year old survivor out there. His favourite song is Tubthumping by Chumbawumba, he even sings it complete with the accent (my kid is talented), but he has handled this with such grace and love that he inspires me to continue going on and being a good person despite everything that has happened.
I hope to update this list frequently, but this good to start off with. I think it was a good exercise writing some of the things I'm thankful for, I encourage everyone to give it a go.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Strong Women
When you have something you are passionate about, if you get a bee in your bonnet related to your passion, it continues buzzing until you satiate the damn thing. In my case, it's writing down my thoughts. Even when it's closing in on 1:30am and I have to be up in 5 1/2 hours to three bouncing off the wall boys and a very stoic poodle puppy. So I was having a chat with a friend, shooting the breeze about life in general and old times and it got me thinking about something that's been a good positive consistent theme in my life. So as I'm lying in bed thinking about the conversation, I can't get the topic out of my head, so I heaved myself out of my nice warm and ever so comfortable bed, and made my way down to old Betsy and here I am...nose inches from the screen because I already took my contacts out and I can't find my glasses. So this is going to be filled with oodles of errors because I'm tired and I can't see. Duly warned!
For those who don't know, I grew up in Regent Park. Most of it is rubble now, including my former home, but back in the day it was a community rich in culture, people and relationships. It was much like a small town in that we were pretty isolated from the outside world. We would do our food shopping and get supplies when needed, but for the most part, entertainment was local, schools were local, friends and family were local, churches, etc...you get the picture. So that consistent theme. Well everyone always thought of Regent as this scary place filled with drug dealers and criminals, and while the drug trade did find a convenient place to exist in that poorly mapped out community, there were families. Tonnes and tonnes of families. Thousands of people crammed into roughly 1000 units total. Many of these families were headed by women. I can probably count on my hands the number of dads who were consistently there and kudos to them, however fellas, I'm here to talk about the women...why? Because I am one, and it's my blog. :)
These moms were tough! I mean tough as nails tough. We never crossed the moms, didn't matter if they were our own or not, they'd just as soon chew you out, then go tell your mom, who would proceed to make your life hell for the next little while. They had to be strong, strict, caring and stand up to shield us as much as they could from a very chaotic world. On top of that they had to deal with poverty, living in broken buildings, several jobs and all the little things we take for granted, but were magnified because of all the additional crap we had to endure.
But there were those moms, those aunts, those sisters. In Regent, often your family was your friends and neighbours. I have so many people I consider family who I don't share a drop of blood with. You might squabble with them over the noise of their TV, but they'd also give you their last cup of milk if your kids were screaming. We watched out for one another.
One time, we had the fortune of having 3 crack houses on our floor! This caused a lot of night time traffic, fighting and just overall a terrible situation for the rest of the families there. The police did the minimal, the landlord too, so the moms decided to take matters into their own hands. For weeks, they'd whisper death threats to us kids to not leave our apartments (we never listened) and they would collectively stand at the elevator doors and harass anyone who was there to do drugs. There was a church lady there. And anyone who grows up in an inner city community knows that you do not FUCK with the church lady. She had an old fashioned school bells, so the first thing those folks were confronted with when that door opened was an angry Jamaican church lady with a very loud bell, giving them the well mannered, but in no uncertain terms chewing out that only an angry Jamaican church lady could give (God help me if she ever saw the language I use on my blog). But really, all these moms took a serious risk, they could have been hurt in so many ways, there were plenty of opportunities to get them alone, but they decided as a collective that this nonsense had to end and they'd fight like hell together to do so. Within a month, those crack houses had moved on.
Our community was enriched by many dedicated professionals who came in and worked hard. From the school teachers, to the doctors and nurses, the admin staff, the community workers. My sense of constant moral outrage comes from my grade 4, 5 and 8 teacher. She's way crankier than I could ever muster, but dammit, she'd be proud at my uppityness. I remember discussing my sexual health as a teenager with the caring doctors and nurses at our local health centre. I'm sure all you women can remember how much fun THAT was as a young woman. I can remember how much love and encouragement I got from everyone really. Our moms might have squabbled, but they left the kids out of it, that was a hard and fast rule. I used to write for the local youth paper and bringing my sense of moral outrage and uppityness, I wrote an article slamming the local community police liaison committee for classism and completely ignoring Regent Park in favour of the much wealthier communities surrounding our home. Well, didn't all these folks demand a meeting with me, where they proceeded to tear 16 year old me a new one. I was there with two of my 16 year old friends getting that beating. But my mom whom I whispered death threats to if she went all mother bear on me, was there and made sure that I was okay at the end of the meeting. Shortly after, I was at a local committee meeting and was presented with a journal from a lovely woman. She told me to keep writing and keep giving them hell, I intend to make good on that. I still have that journal.
And really, just thinking of how many countless people who have come out of Regent Park, with all the temptation to fall into despair and destructive activities, as folks who have avoided all that and have made good lives and relationships for themselves and others, is a testament in itself to the sheer force of will and soul our mothers had to get us to that point.
I've struggled in the past 8 months, God knows how I've struggled, but I've survived and I've come to a point where I know I'll survive. I've also noticed that the people who have circled the wagons around me, have been predominantly women. One of my most favourite recent memories, was coming home to my bestie aka my wife, my babysitter and our kids at home and dinner well on the way. How perfect was that? My only regret was that my life saving, I worship the ground she walks on, nanny and my mom weren't there. Just women doing what we always do, to take care of the kids and banding together to take care of each other.
I sometimes wondered where I learned how to be this strong, but tonight while chatting, it dawned on me or was presented to me, I'm sorry, it's late, I can't remember that I have this legacy of amazing women all throughout my life. They have been strong, opinionated, generous, downright bitchy if need be, terrifying and loving all at the same time. It's very humbling to think of them, because living or dead, even though their blood does not run in my veins, their wisdom and passion lives within my soul. It was an epiphany tonight, and I know the next time I feel burnt out at the end of my rope, I will remember them. Words cannot possibly express the gratitude and appreciation I feel, it's overwhelming, so all I can do is to vow to live my life with the same strength, fire and kindness that they do/did.
For those who don't know, I grew up in Regent Park. Most of it is rubble now, including my former home, but back in the day it was a community rich in culture, people and relationships. It was much like a small town in that we were pretty isolated from the outside world. We would do our food shopping and get supplies when needed, but for the most part, entertainment was local, schools were local, friends and family were local, churches, etc...you get the picture. So that consistent theme. Well everyone always thought of Regent as this scary place filled with drug dealers and criminals, and while the drug trade did find a convenient place to exist in that poorly mapped out community, there were families. Tonnes and tonnes of families. Thousands of people crammed into roughly 1000 units total. Many of these families were headed by women. I can probably count on my hands the number of dads who were consistently there and kudos to them, however fellas, I'm here to talk about the women...why? Because I am one, and it's my blog. :)
These moms were tough! I mean tough as nails tough. We never crossed the moms, didn't matter if they were our own or not, they'd just as soon chew you out, then go tell your mom, who would proceed to make your life hell for the next little while. They had to be strong, strict, caring and stand up to shield us as much as they could from a very chaotic world. On top of that they had to deal with poverty, living in broken buildings, several jobs and all the little things we take for granted, but were magnified because of all the additional crap we had to endure.
But there were those moms, those aunts, those sisters. In Regent, often your family was your friends and neighbours. I have so many people I consider family who I don't share a drop of blood with. You might squabble with them over the noise of their TV, but they'd also give you their last cup of milk if your kids were screaming. We watched out for one another.
One time, we had the fortune of having 3 crack houses on our floor! This caused a lot of night time traffic, fighting and just overall a terrible situation for the rest of the families there. The police did the minimal, the landlord too, so the moms decided to take matters into their own hands. For weeks, they'd whisper death threats to us kids to not leave our apartments (we never listened) and they would collectively stand at the elevator doors and harass anyone who was there to do drugs. There was a church lady there. And anyone who grows up in an inner city community knows that you do not FUCK with the church lady. She had an old fashioned school bells, so the first thing those folks were confronted with when that door opened was an angry Jamaican church lady with a very loud bell, giving them the well mannered, but in no uncertain terms chewing out that only an angry Jamaican church lady could give (God help me if she ever saw the language I use on my blog). But really, all these moms took a serious risk, they could have been hurt in so many ways, there were plenty of opportunities to get them alone, but they decided as a collective that this nonsense had to end and they'd fight like hell together to do so. Within a month, those crack houses had moved on.
Our community was enriched by many dedicated professionals who came in and worked hard. From the school teachers, to the doctors and nurses, the admin staff, the community workers. My sense of constant moral outrage comes from my grade 4, 5 and 8 teacher. She's way crankier than I could ever muster, but dammit, she'd be proud at my uppityness. I remember discussing my sexual health as a teenager with the caring doctors and nurses at our local health centre. I'm sure all you women can remember how much fun THAT was as a young woman. I can remember how much love and encouragement I got from everyone really. Our moms might have squabbled, but they left the kids out of it, that was a hard and fast rule. I used to write for the local youth paper and bringing my sense of moral outrage and uppityness, I wrote an article slamming the local community police liaison committee for classism and completely ignoring Regent Park in favour of the much wealthier communities surrounding our home. Well, didn't all these folks demand a meeting with me, where they proceeded to tear 16 year old me a new one. I was there with two of my 16 year old friends getting that beating. But my mom whom I whispered death threats to if she went all mother bear on me, was there and made sure that I was okay at the end of the meeting. Shortly after, I was at a local committee meeting and was presented with a journal from a lovely woman. She told me to keep writing and keep giving them hell, I intend to make good on that. I still have that journal.
And really, just thinking of how many countless people who have come out of Regent Park, with all the temptation to fall into despair and destructive activities, as folks who have avoided all that and have made good lives and relationships for themselves and others, is a testament in itself to the sheer force of will and soul our mothers had to get us to that point.
I've struggled in the past 8 months, God knows how I've struggled, but I've survived and I've come to a point where I know I'll survive. I've also noticed that the people who have circled the wagons around me, have been predominantly women. One of my most favourite recent memories, was coming home to my bestie aka my wife, my babysitter and our kids at home and dinner well on the way. How perfect was that? My only regret was that my life saving, I worship the ground she walks on, nanny and my mom weren't there. Just women doing what we always do, to take care of the kids and banding together to take care of each other.
I sometimes wondered where I learned how to be this strong, but tonight while chatting, it dawned on me or was presented to me, I'm sorry, it's late, I can't remember that I have this legacy of amazing women all throughout my life. They have been strong, opinionated, generous, downright bitchy if need be, terrifying and loving all at the same time. It's very humbling to think of them, because living or dead, even though their blood does not run in my veins, their wisdom and passion lives within my soul. It was an epiphany tonight, and I know the next time I feel burnt out at the end of my rope, I will remember them. Words cannot possibly express the gratitude and appreciation I feel, it's overwhelming, so all I can do is to vow to live my life with the same strength, fire and kindness that they do/did.
Labels:
children,
divorce,
inner city,
moms,
Regent Park,
single mothers,
women
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Money can't buy you happiness...YES IT CAN!
How can money buy you happiness you ask?
Tadaaaaaa!
She is called Her Royal Highness, Prissy of Prissyness, Duchess of all things girly, and Mommy's little girl, even if she is on four feet. Otherwise known as Adele and she is all mine. I'm just waiting for the boys to get home, they have noooooo idea! Muahahahahaaaa.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Objectivity
Well the first thing about it, should have me questioning what the Hell I'm doing this late or early in the day writing blog posts, but I kind have had another "aha" moment where I've survived another challenge, where I thought I would falter. In fact I felt myself faltering and now I'm more tired than anything else...which makes sense given that its 2am.
I've been looking at old photos, reading old letters, thinking of the past and I'm gaining the ability to look at it objectively. My therapist told me that this would be the next step and it feels good. I can pinpoint moments where I didn't feel safe in my life, my relationship and it's been a lot of the time, and some of it was me, some of it was the relationship. Largely I've been focusing on the woman I was, and the woman I am just starting to be. She was always in there, I knew her when I was younger, in my teen years, in college. She's spunky, she has fire, life, beauty. It's not that the previous me didn't, but she was subdued, she hid behind her kids and let complacency settle in because she put her family and her husband above any and all needs for herself. Okay, enough talking in the third person, I'm annoying myself. I look at pictures of me a year, two years, three years ago. I look sweet and loving, warm and nurturing, just like a mom should be, but there was no woman in there. I lived under a shadow of never living up to this ideal woman, one I never could possibly be, so I think in a sense I gave up and forgot about who I was.
I remember a conversation with one of our mediators and she asked me, who I was before I had kids, before I put my family before myself. I stumbled along, remembering short glimpses of some spunk, and determination, but really I had a hard time picturing it. Mind you, getting up from a left hook to the jaw (figuratively) tends to dull your memory, and mine is shitty to begin with. But now, as I continue to live my life, on my own, as my own woman, I'm remembering. I was hell on wheels! Always ready with a rant or cheeky comment, all fired up and ready to change the world. That slipped away slowly as I put everyone needs and wants above my own and eventually lost that person. However the good news is, that I feel that person coming back. Now mind you, I'm planning on being a bit more tempered, and while I will move heaven and earth to make sure every one of my children's needs are met, I'm also going to honour some of my own too.
I need to be a woman. I need to have a life outside the home. I need to have goals and dreams (I already have them). I need to not define my life by supporting someone be the best that they can be. I need to feel safe, wanted and beautiful and not second rate, if I am going to be in a relationship. I need to take over the world. Most of all, I deserve all these things, especially the world domination.
I look at the woman I was a year or two ago, and the woman I am today, the woman I am today has a few more grey hairs, has a nice worry line in the middle of my brow (ITS THERE!) and has shed enough tears to fill a swimming pool. I am also stronger, more loving, more competent and way more hawt! Yeah, I said it lol I'm also more hopeful and more entitled to all those good things that I would wish for my children, friends, loved ones in a relationship. I feel more confident and ready to take steps out into the world for myself and plot my own course. Someone asked me today if I'm enjoying being single, and since I got my tattoo (What the hell was in that ink John? I feel like a brand new freaking person!) I can say I am. I'm enjoying getting reacquainted and learning about the woman I'm becoming and I'm liking her...a lot. That's more than I can say for a very long time and it feels amazing!
I've been looking at old photos, reading old letters, thinking of the past and I'm gaining the ability to look at it objectively. My therapist told me that this would be the next step and it feels good. I can pinpoint moments where I didn't feel safe in my life, my relationship and it's been a lot of the time, and some of it was me, some of it was the relationship. Largely I've been focusing on the woman I was, and the woman I am just starting to be. She was always in there, I knew her when I was younger, in my teen years, in college. She's spunky, she has fire, life, beauty. It's not that the previous me didn't, but she was subdued, she hid behind her kids and let complacency settle in because she put her family and her husband above any and all needs for herself. Okay, enough talking in the third person, I'm annoying myself. I look at pictures of me a year, two years, three years ago. I look sweet and loving, warm and nurturing, just like a mom should be, but there was no woman in there. I lived under a shadow of never living up to this ideal woman, one I never could possibly be, so I think in a sense I gave up and forgot about who I was.
I remember a conversation with one of our mediators and she asked me, who I was before I had kids, before I put my family before myself. I stumbled along, remembering short glimpses of some spunk, and determination, but really I had a hard time picturing it. Mind you, getting up from a left hook to the jaw (figuratively) tends to dull your memory, and mine is shitty to begin with. But now, as I continue to live my life, on my own, as my own woman, I'm remembering. I was hell on wheels! Always ready with a rant or cheeky comment, all fired up and ready to change the world. That slipped away slowly as I put everyone needs and wants above my own and eventually lost that person. However the good news is, that I feel that person coming back. Now mind you, I'm planning on being a bit more tempered, and while I will move heaven and earth to make sure every one of my children's needs are met, I'm also going to honour some of my own too.
I need to be a woman. I need to have a life outside the home. I need to have goals and dreams (I already have them). I need to not define my life by supporting someone be the best that they can be. I need to feel safe, wanted and beautiful and not second rate, if I am going to be in a relationship. I need to take over the world. Most of all, I deserve all these things, especially the world domination.
I look at the woman I was a year or two ago, and the woman I am today, the woman I am today has a few more grey hairs, has a nice worry line in the middle of my brow (ITS THERE!) and has shed enough tears to fill a swimming pool. I am also stronger, more loving, more competent and way more hawt! Yeah, I said it lol I'm also more hopeful and more entitled to all those good things that I would wish for my children, friends, loved ones in a relationship. I feel more confident and ready to take steps out into the world for myself and plot my own course. Someone asked me today if I'm enjoying being single, and since I got my tattoo (What the hell was in that ink John? I feel like a brand new freaking person!) I can say I am. I'm enjoying getting reacquainted and learning about the woman I'm becoming and I'm liking her...a lot. That's more than I can say for a very long time and it feels amazing!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
*Queue James Brown*
I do feel good. I feel fanfreakingtastic, I mentioned it on facebook and was commanded by one friend to write about it, so here I am. It was a far better prospect than roasting a turkey that her brother suggested (BTW, Thanksgiving, if you're interested, you're of course welcome, Xmas too).
I don't know, I have faced a hurdle that I had been dreading. And you know when you dread something and you're terrified of it coming and when it finally does come, it's not necessarily as bad as you dreaded. You walk away feeling "hmph, not sure why I was fussing about THAT!" That's how I feel, except I feel like it still was a big hurdle, but I feel like She-Hulk that I survived it and I'm able to let go of so much hurt and anger and dread. And with that, not only comes a sense of peace, but a sense of power. I'm not saying that it's all going to be unicorn farts and rainbows, but I continually look back and see the peaks that I've scaled and see them progressively get smaller and smaller.
Something that finally sunk in for me on Friday when I faced the big hurdle was despite all of that relationship hurt, I was loved and worth loving. As I was trying to get a grip, I thought to myself, I have millions of amazing friends, all quality people who would and have done so much for me. I have a great family, (most of whom are not blood related) again, who would do and have done so much for me. I'm reasonably smart and attractive. I have a kick ass tattoo and hair that would make Eva Longoria envious. I've got three adorable bright boys who I love and who love me back with the ferocity of a million shining suns. Really, I'm worth love, I'm worth good love and damn good treatment. Okay, enough about how great I am and how loved I am, I'm trying to say in a million words or less, that I had an epiphany and its one that everyone needs to have for themselves.
We all have our crosses to bear, our hurts, disappointments and anger. Many of it stems though from feeling wounded and that wound ultimately can only be healed with time and with self care. It's vital to let that wound heal, and like any cut or scrape, you keep it clean, kept it nurtured and cuddle up to anyone who is going to give you a cookie. Same goes for those emotional wounds. My therapist once told me that you can only depend on yourself and God. That seems like a pretty jaded outlook, but I don't think so. I think spiritually, only you can take care of that garden of yours. You know what needs weeding, what needs to be staked, what needs a little extra fertilizer or warmth, and no one else is going to do that for us, not even God. If you're the religious sort, if you think about it, we're pretty much mandated across the religious board to love ourselves as much as our makers love us. And even if you're not religious, it's still a good exercise to really love yourself, work on that garden til you come to that epiphany of what you are worth (and believe me, you are worth loving, especially if you're one of my friends!).
I have to say, that that has brought me such a peace and happiness that I'm still pinching myself wondering if this is a dream. And isn't that the goal in life, to be at peace and happy? That happiness brings personal power, and that personal power gives you the ability to let go of your hurts, at least for a little while, and it will build a base, that you can revisit the next time you hit a bump in the road and the next. And then, letting go of your hurts, equals more happiness and it goes around in a big trippy rainbow unicorn circle. But hey, as much as I knock the rainbow unicorns, I had to admit, this feeling is pretty fan freaking tastic, so it's definitely a state of mind I will be pursuing a hell of a lot more in the future. In the meantime, I'm back to James Brown and my happy tunes.
I don't know, I have faced a hurdle that I had been dreading. And you know when you dread something and you're terrified of it coming and when it finally does come, it's not necessarily as bad as you dreaded. You walk away feeling "hmph, not sure why I was fussing about THAT!" That's how I feel, except I feel like it still was a big hurdle, but I feel like She-Hulk that I survived it and I'm able to let go of so much hurt and anger and dread. And with that, not only comes a sense of peace, but a sense of power. I'm not saying that it's all going to be unicorn farts and rainbows, but I continually look back and see the peaks that I've scaled and see them progressively get smaller and smaller.
Something that finally sunk in for me on Friday when I faced the big hurdle was despite all of that relationship hurt, I was loved and worth loving. As I was trying to get a grip, I thought to myself, I have millions of amazing friends, all quality people who would and have done so much for me. I have a great family, (most of whom are not blood related) again, who would do and have done so much for me. I'm reasonably smart and attractive. I have a kick ass tattoo and hair that would make Eva Longoria envious. I've got three adorable bright boys who I love and who love me back with the ferocity of a million shining suns. Really, I'm worth love, I'm worth good love and damn good treatment. Okay, enough about how great I am and how loved I am, I'm trying to say in a million words or less, that I had an epiphany and its one that everyone needs to have for themselves.
We all have our crosses to bear, our hurts, disappointments and anger. Many of it stems though from feeling wounded and that wound ultimately can only be healed with time and with self care. It's vital to let that wound heal, and like any cut or scrape, you keep it clean, kept it nurtured and cuddle up to anyone who is going to give you a cookie. Same goes for those emotional wounds. My therapist once told me that you can only depend on yourself and God. That seems like a pretty jaded outlook, but I don't think so. I think spiritually, only you can take care of that garden of yours. You know what needs weeding, what needs to be staked, what needs a little extra fertilizer or warmth, and no one else is going to do that for us, not even God. If you're the religious sort, if you think about it, we're pretty much mandated across the religious board to love ourselves as much as our makers love us. And even if you're not religious, it's still a good exercise to really love yourself, work on that garden til you come to that epiphany of what you are worth (and believe me, you are worth loving, especially if you're one of my friends!).
I have to say, that that has brought me such a peace and happiness that I'm still pinching myself wondering if this is a dream. And isn't that the goal in life, to be at peace and happy? That happiness brings personal power, and that personal power gives you the ability to let go of your hurts, at least for a little while, and it will build a base, that you can revisit the next time you hit a bump in the road and the next. And then, letting go of your hurts, equals more happiness and it goes around in a big trippy rainbow unicorn circle. But hey, as much as I knock the rainbow unicorns, I had to admit, this feeling is pretty fan freaking tastic, so it's definitely a state of mind I will be pursuing a hell of a lot more in the future. In the meantime, I'm back to James Brown and my happy tunes.
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