I'm sitting in my living room chair in 2016 thinking about why exactly I'm writing again about me in 2013, and I'm not entirely sure of my purpose. I just know that, when I feel so compelled to write that the refusal to do it nauseates me, I open up my laptop and start hitting the keys.
I just finished reading a blog article of a "church lady" that went with several of her "church lady" friends...to a strip club. Their mission was to restore the sense of humanity to these ladies. They truly ministered to them in the truest sense of the concept - no judgments and no agenda except to make these dancers feel loved. The church ladies were struck that, while they went in with no ill judgments, they did have some preconceived ideas about the character or at least personalities of these ladies - that they were all just really mostly similar except for their jobs. They all ended up having a sort of unifying and transcendent and healing experience from it. It was a nice story - so nice. It caused a lump to form in my throat because it didn't just trigger emotions for me...
It triggered my memory.
In 2013 I found myself to be one of those "without a place to go". I was homeless. Six weeks prior I had been an 8 year veteran of the SAHM world, but life played out as it always does and I ended up being a short term resident of a shelter for battered women. Go read my very first post to read about my first night there.
I decided very quickly that, because you are only allowed to stay for 8 weeks, I was going to do whatever it took to build a whole brand new life. Let me tell you - 3 years post homelessness and I'm STILL trying to recover from what was only a 2 1/2 month stint as a person with no home. I knew I wanted something good and solid, and I knew I needed something fast. The problem was that I found myself having almost no work experience for the previous 8 years and I was living in a VERY political small town and was on the wrong end of the politics. My options seemed REEEEAAAL limited.
One day in the office, I was talking with one of the girls about jobs. Most of us were looking for one, and I purposed in my heart that I was going to be at the front of the line. I'd spent a good week in bed crying and then I recovered myself to get to work. This girl with whom I was sharing information mentioned dancing. She told me about the club where she had worked and about the connections that she still had with that club and another one. She proceeded to tell me that I could be a good candidate for getting a job and that she could help me...
to become a stripper.
So this all flew in the face of "before" me who, for all intents and purposes, was a virgin when I got married to my older kids' dad, but I'm going to tell you this: when you have nothing with a prospect of more nothing, you don't stay snobby. You do what you gotta do. You don't turn up your nose at something that you know could pay your bills because the electric company and water company don't take good morals for payment. You don't get to leave the store with your groceries because you're "a really nice girl that just doesn't do those things". You need money. If you're stuck and you don't want to stay that way, you think "outside the box".
I played these justifications through my mind and decided to broach the idea (really just give notification) to my old boyfriend turned new boyfriend (again, you gotta read my old posts for THAT story). I explained the whole story to my feministic, philosopher boyfriend wanting him to support me during this really desperate, unconventional period of my life and to protest because I was "his" all at the same time. I didn't know what I wanted, but I knew what I needed. I needed money.
I had three sets of eyes looking to me - COUNTING on me to rebuild my life. This was an absolute necessity that I accomplish this, so I told Dan about my plan.
"I just don't think this is a good idea for you in any area." "I will support you as a person if you do this, but I do not support this idea." were the things he told me. I became completely furious, and thus began our first fight. I felt like he was being snobby and elitest when all I wanted was a way out!!! He wouldn't seem to understand!
I was desperate. I could make 3 phone calls and have a couple of interviews and have a job in a town where I was an outcast. I felt frantic and so, so frustrated. This was something that I needed to do. I didn't care how humiliated I felt sure I would feel. I didn't care about other people's opinions of me. I didn't care that I would work weird hours. I didn't care about the ugly things people might say to me through the course of my shift or the dangers that could befall me after it was over.
I was just a mom whose life got ripped out of my hands who needed money to survive, and this was my ticket.
Are you my friend?
Have you been my friend for a long time?
Did you just become my friend?
Did you know this story? (Actually I think even my mom didn't know this story...sorry, Mom!) Does your opinion of me change? Does your opinion of "them" change?
I AM them. They ARE me.
I never danced a single turn. The stars aligned (it was God) and I got a job working as a makeup artist for Estee Lauder...while I was living at the shelter. I was shocked that I got the job in the first place. I used my ex sister in law's address (one of THE most tremendous women on the planet) on my employment paperwork so that no one would know that I was actually homeless. My car ended up getting totaled so there was a 12.5 mile gulf between work and my temporary residence, so I bought a bike. Once my coworkers found out that I was riding that distance in the dark on a road peppered with monuments to cyclists who had been struck and killed by cars, they started giving me rides.
One day, a sassy, stylish lady of privilege sat down in my chair for me to do her makeup. We chatted about her coloring and the products she had used from our line, and then we made small talk about her life. "I like to get the gift (with purchase) and if it's not something I'll use, I like to donate it to (insert name of shelter that I'm not legally allowed to type because I signed a waiver) so that the ladies there can have something nice". The blood drained from my hands midway through applying her blush.
Another memory:
Two weeks prior the administrator (I don't remember her actual title, but she ran the place for the owner) came into the common room and tossed a shoe box onto the oversized 1970's dining room table. The contents popped out of the box and down again after her tossing it our direction. It drew us like bugs to a porch light - it was makeup! The other girls sifted through it, but, because they had all seen the makeup that I'd managed to keep safe through all of my logistical loss and because a couple of them had even found their way to the right end of my shears and makeup brushes, they started picking things out for me. "Ooh! Sarah, look at this! Is this a nice one?" "THIS is a pretty color!" "Do you have anything like this already?" My heart wanted to hoard ALL of it on this day that felt like Christmas, but I decided on just a few thing - one of them being a lipstick in a dark blue tube from non other than...Estee Lauder.
That tube of lipstick was actually in my makeup bag behind the counter as I spoke to the client who very likely could have donated it. "I just feel like everybody deserves to have something nice, and if I'm not going to use it, I want someone to enjoy it. I've never gotten to meet any of those ladies...(her voice trailed off a little bit as I turned her face different angles to finish her service)...but I wish I could. I just hope that little things like that help."
"I HAVE TO TELL HER I HAVE TO TELL HER!!!...but I can't. That's not professional...I can't tell her that is the exact place where I'm actually currently living...but I have to tell her that she DID make a difference!" Despite the disorganization of the shelter employees and the fact that a LOT of the nice things people donate never even make it to the people in need, I knew I had to say something.
We finished her appointment. She picked out almost $100 worth of merchandise and did indeed get the gift with purchase for the promotion we were running. I saw my chance. I bagged up her things and walked out from behind the counter and said "I have something to tell you...(she looked up at me with furrowed, confused brows) you HAVE met one of the ladies." The eyes of this "fancy" lady welled up with tears "You?" she mouthed while she choked away the brokenness in her voice. I nodded and smiled. "Oh I'm so GLAD that place helped you and you have a life now and this wonderful job!" We hugged. I'd been working there for like a week. I didn't even know if I was allowed to hug customers or if I was going to lose my job for telling her what I did. What she also didn't know is, when I left my "wonderful job" (and it really was) for the day, I was going home to the shelter to eat a can of corn and a package of uncooked ramen noodles so I could get back on the bus or in someone else's car or on my bike to come to work the next day. I didn't tell her. She really had made an impact of giving humanity back to me during a time when I felt pretty stripped of dignity. That's all I wanted her to know. I didn't need for her to know about how during my days pre-job, I walked around town with vouchers begging people for things their businesses claimed to give people in need. I didn't need for her to know about the corn or the ramen or that I didn't get to see my kids overnight for those months because they wouldn't have been allowed a place to sleep. I didn't want her to know that I would ride to work on my bike for more than 12 miles and go into Panera Bread soaking with sweat and then redress myself and dry my hair and put on that lipstick in the blue tube. I just wanted her to know about the lipstick - and that it had made a difference.
Weeks passed and I saved up enough money to get myself an apartment. A friend actually bought me a car. A new friend from work organized a pounding for me and a drive for household items. I will never forget my first night in my apartment sleeping on an air mattress I'd retrieved from the house I shared with my ex husband. Other than a little wicker bench, that was all my furniture. I felt like a queen.
Today I'm sitting on a comfy oversized chair with my feet on a cushy ottoman. My 4 month old baby is laying beside me in a state of satisfied milk drunkenness. I just got off the phone with my friend, and I'm waiting for my husband to get home from work. I ate a full meal earlier and put gas in my car, and I have enough money to buy the diapers my baby needs and even food for my daughter's chubby guinea pig.
I look like one of "you" and all of you. I'm just a mom of four kids who writes a blog sometimes and has an all but unwatched Youtube channel. I drive around town. I go to church. I throw back my head and laugh when I think something is funny. My life, though as I said is still very challenging, looks completely normal and this story is something about which most of you only know the ending. I'm just "that girl Sarah", "Dan's wife", "the Stevens kids' mom"....I'm just a mom.
....but I was almost a stripper.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Sunday, April 17, 2016
On being woven
Where do I even begin? I feel like I should catch up our readers on what has been happening in my life, but there are details too sensitive to include. Beginning that way would just leave too many confusing voids.
There are some hard things happening. There are some beautiful things happening. I have all four of my beautiful children asleep in their beds. Everyone is healthy. Everyone is learning, and I have gotten to tell each of them very recently that I love them. That is a treasure to me.
But it is four o' clock in the morning, and I haven't slept a wink. That's from all those hard parts that are happening.
Gosh they leave me so confused. They just have a way of smacking me in the fat of the cheek every single time.
By this time of my sleepless night, I have read over some of my old posts and felt a little rejuvenation at the strength I found in earlier days in my life, but I'm just not kidding that the hard parts are wearing on me. They're starting to make me age. I looked in the mirror the other day and realized just how much my face has aged over the last few years. I don't even look like the same person to myself.
I'm tired.
There's no rest from the challenges I face. I will carry them in my satchel of daily experiences for the rest of my life. That promise (or threat) was even given to me recently - "for the rest of your natural life" this heart said to me. Thank you for making your intentions clear, heart that spoke to me. At least the heart was honest, right? Now at least I know what to expect. More hard things. More heart ache. More challenges that will cause other people to describe me as "strong" but will leave me feeling, once again, just depleted.
Even my joints hurt. Honestly, I'm preparing my life to speak to a doctor about it.
This life hurts, doesn't it? The really annoying thing is that the human experience contains a lot of injustice, so some lives include more pain than others. It's just true. There are people who live their entire lives so insulated that they are altogether unscathed compared to the battered scraped up souls that live right alongside them.
Does that make the lives of the bruised and used up ones less beautiful? Nay. Not at all. I'm not a fan of the volume of painful experiences that are included in my story, but I don't dare trade a single one of them. They have woven into something that has become me. They have twisted me and pulled me and stretched me into something that provides comfort for some and cover for others. They have melted away the frivolous parts of me. There's no fake left. I don't have the energy for it. What you see is what I really am.
And it isn't something not wonderful. My. life. is. wonderful. It makes me think of the analogy to which I alluded above - the one of a tapestry. So full of tangles and knots on one side. Chaos and disorder and confusion. The other side, however, reveals something so intentional...so beautiful...so perfect that it leaves the jaws of it's admirers hanging open.
I'm not something different or better than someone else. Please forgive me if that's what I seemed to say. I am one of many. You are too. Maybe you feel the way that I feel - that you don't happen to be one of those unscathed ones. Maybe you have hurt more hurts than what you see from those around you or maybe you just wonder if your life is a big fat waste - like it's being sabotaged somehow.
It's not. You're a tapestry...a big, tall, thick tapestry. Wait for your moment because, when it comes, you will be so glad that you have been woven as thick as what you are. The time will come when you see that all the painful kniving moments that passed through your being over and over made something that shows nothing but beauty. Try so hard, sweet hearts, to remember that in those weaving moments. You're so beautiful. The tapestry of your life is so beautiful because the one weaving it does it with intention. It may look like chaos to you, but it is all with a specific order. Look for the threads - the moments in your life that make your heart swell and give the muscles of your soul a break. They are there. Don't get lost in the side of the weaving that you can see. Know there's something bigger. Don't forget that your picture is like no one else's this is YOUR story. No one can replicate the intricacies woven through who you are. It is yours and yours alone. Look for the threads. Look for the beauty.
Know that, within every single day and within every part of your heart, there are many threads of beautiful. And I promise that one day you'll be able to see the picture they've created. Then, sweet hurting heart, you'll know just what it was all for.
There are some hard things happening. There are some beautiful things happening. I have all four of my beautiful children asleep in their beds. Everyone is healthy. Everyone is learning, and I have gotten to tell each of them very recently that I love them. That is a treasure to me.
But it is four o' clock in the morning, and I haven't slept a wink. That's from all those hard parts that are happening.
Gosh they leave me so confused. They just have a way of smacking me in the fat of the cheek every single time.
By this time of my sleepless night, I have read over some of my old posts and felt a little rejuvenation at the strength I found in earlier days in my life, but I'm just not kidding that the hard parts are wearing on me. They're starting to make me age. I looked in the mirror the other day and realized just how much my face has aged over the last few years. I don't even look like the same person to myself.
I'm tired.
There's no rest from the challenges I face. I will carry them in my satchel of daily experiences for the rest of my life. That promise (or threat) was even given to me recently - "for the rest of your natural life" this heart said to me. Thank you for making your intentions clear, heart that spoke to me. At least the heart was honest, right? Now at least I know what to expect. More hard things. More heart ache. More challenges that will cause other people to describe me as "strong" but will leave me feeling, once again, just depleted.
Even my joints hurt. Honestly, I'm preparing my life to speak to a doctor about it.
This life hurts, doesn't it? The really annoying thing is that the human experience contains a lot of injustice, so some lives include more pain than others. It's just true. There are people who live their entire lives so insulated that they are altogether unscathed compared to the battered scraped up souls that live right alongside them.
Does that make the lives of the bruised and used up ones less beautiful? Nay. Not at all. I'm not a fan of the volume of painful experiences that are included in my story, but I don't dare trade a single one of them. They have woven into something that has become me. They have twisted me and pulled me and stretched me into something that provides comfort for some and cover for others. They have melted away the frivolous parts of me. There's no fake left. I don't have the energy for it. What you see is what I really am.
And it isn't something not wonderful. My. life. is. wonderful. It makes me think of the analogy to which I alluded above - the one of a tapestry. So full of tangles and knots on one side. Chaos and disorder and confusion. The other side, however, reveals something so intentional...so beautiful...so perfect that it leaves the jaws of it's admirers hanging open.
I'm not something different or better than someone else. Please forgive me if that's what I seemed to say. I am one of many. You are too. Maybe you feel the way that I feel - that you don't happen to be one of those unscathed ones. Maybe you have hurt more hurts than what you see from those around you or maybe you just wonder if your life is a big fat waste - like it's being sabotaged somehow.
It's not. You're a tapestry...a big, tall, thick tapestry. Wait for your moment because, when it comes, you will be so glad that you have been woven as thick as what you are. The time will come when you see that all the painful kniving moments that passed through your being over and over made something that shows nothing but beauty. Try so hard, sweet hearts, to remember that in those weaving moments. You're so beautiful. The tapestry of your life is so beautiful because the one weaving it does it with intention. It may look like chaos to you, but it is all with a specific order. Look for the threads - the moments in your life that make your heart swell and give the muscles of your soul a break. They are there. Don't get lost in the side of the weaving that you can see. Know there's something bigger. Don't forget that your picture is like no one else's this is YOUR story. No one can replicate the intricacies woven through who you are. It is yours and yours alone. Look for the threads. Look for the beauty.
Know that, within every single day and within every part of your heart, there are many threads of beautiful. And I promise that one day you'll be able to see the picture they've created. Then, sweet hurting heart, you'll know just what it was all for.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
On years...all those years
Dear Dan,
We ate at a Greek place today. As I dangled my fork over the plate of baklava, you said "You know, with this being near an anniversary of something, it's reminding me of another time we ate Greek food", and then you smiled and waited for it to register with me. It did. I smiled, and then I felt the need to do the math. "14 years!" I said, and then I sat back as it really sank in. "I've known you for 14 years." You nodded in response. My mind rewinded back to the first time we ate Greek.
It was our first date.
I was 20. You were 23. I was a young 20, and you were a 23 that had already lived a whole lifetime in some ways. You terrified my parents, but your invitation to take me on a date was something for which I had been waiting and mentally begging you for weeks. "This place is one of Chattanooga's only 4 star restaurants", you bragged. You were so excited to show me the world of this amazing food, and I decided I was excited to feel like your arm candy. I was determined that 2002 was going to look good on me, and so far, at least you had decided that I'd been successful.
The whole evening was magic. I don't think either of us wanted it to end so I just kept thinking up places for us to go. I think we drove back and forth across town like three times. You never seemed to be worried about the gas we were using up or the time it was taking to drive all over town in loops.
One of our stops was the bridge. Everyone goes to the bridge. In fact, I saw some friends there and, in my nervousness, I actually left you to go talk to them. One of my friends commented on your eyes. There has always been something captivating about those eyes of yours.
That walk on the bridge ended up having an impact on you, though I wouldn't know for a decade just how much.
"I love you", I told you as I got ready to walk into my house after a date on a night several weeks later. "I love you too....that's what makes this so hard" you said in response...though it almost seemed like you were saying it as much to yourself as to me. Immediately my brow furrowed and my brain silently asked "Makes what so hard?...what does that mean?". Several days later, I found out.
You dumped me. My heart was broken, but I knew yours was too. Our efforts at staying friends were valiant ones but who were we kidding, right? Neither one of us could stand just being friends so I sent you a condescending email and made it all your fault.
Nothing made sense after that. After that day there were things in my life that made me smile, but there was a lot that made me cry. After years had passed and I'd cried enough tears that I decided I was done crying them, I thought of you...and so I found you. I felt like I was getting a chance to come up for air when I saw you. You were not interested. Life was heading in a very decided direction for you and I guess mine was too so we parted ways again.
More years passed...and then came the day that my heart wanted to find you again. Everything was all jumbled up, and a lot of everything just felt completely broken. My head was spinning. I was so absolutely confused, and once my spirit finally crumpled into a heap, I thought of you again. "Dan will tell me the truth...Dan will be able to see it...Dan..." You were my North, and I knew it. I needed to reach for you again and see if you would be my North again.
You would. Reticent at first, though you were, you very quickly embraced me with every part of who you are. For the first time, in some ways, since the day we stood on my front stoop giving each other our last embrace, I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt...like things could make sense.
I'll never forget telling my sister "I'm gonna marry him". "Oh Saruhhhhh!" she said with an exhausted growl at the end of my name. It wasn't me staking my claim, though. I remember being very struck at that moment at the feeling that I had just been given some sort of premonition, and I was just verbalizing what I'd seen.
Our relationship began to grow after that day. We spent so many hours talking and learning about the new versions of each other. 11 years had gone by since we'd really explored the heart of the other...11 years. We'd each become completely different people and yet...I immediately began to feel just like I had 11 years before - that we fit. "We" worked. "We" made sense...so much sense. I felt again that sensation that I was shooting up out of the depths and being allowed to let out a huge gasp to fill my lungs with good clean air. I felt it over and over and over and so often in those first few months.
And then more time passed.
We started hearing a lot of questions about when we were going to get married. This annoyed me to no end. Married on paper was something that I'd already been and not something that I felt that I really ever needed to be ever again. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I knew I was committed to you and that you were committed to me. We had talked about this commitment and that it existed in a very real way without there having been a contract that we signed. I felt it was very unnecessary...and yet...there was a beautiful foggy night in January. You took my hand and walked me across the same bridge we walked across all those years before. When you got down on your knee, I had that sensation again - that feeling of my soul being filled with the most wonderful oxygen. You asked me if I would be your wife and I could not stop myself from saying "YES!". I WANTED it! I wanted nothing more than to be your wife. I had wanted it for so so long, and now it was going to be.
My fairy tale...
The real life versions of fairy tales are different from storybooks because they aren't perfect. They include all the flaws, but they're certainly real and they are definitely beautiful. That's what I was thinking about one year ago today.
At one time, I was the girl who decried getting married. It was so superfluous. We didn't need it, but one year ago today...I knew... I wanted it. I wanted you, and you wanted me and we wanted everybody to know it. Right in the midst of a bunch of bitterly cold days including snow 2 days after, we had an amazing spring-like day. You left the house and as I finished getting ready, I shook away tears that came every time I thought about...time. I had spent so much time apart from you since the time we'd first fallen in love, and now I'd get to be with you forever. On that day I do recall telling you "until the last breath in my lungs and until the last beat of my heart...I am yours".
I didn't know on that day what the upcoming year would be like. I had no idea. Neither of us could have predicted the crazy ride encompassed in the past 365 days. I mean....WE HAD A BABY!!!! There have been days of lots of laughing but there have been a lot of days of hurting - physical and otherwise. So many confusing days. We have asked so many questions of life and of God. We still don't have answers to many of them, but we have this.
We have love.
We have each other.
We have our fairy tale.
So I promise to you again this thing, Dan...my love...
Until the last breath in my lungs and until the last beat of my heart, I am yours.
Happy anniversary.
We ate at a Greek place today. As I dangled my fork over the plate of baklava, you said "You know, with this being near an anniversary of something, it's reminding me of another time we ate Greek food", and then you smiled and waited for it to register with me. It did. I smiled, and then I felt the need to do the math. "14 years!" I said, and then I sat back as it really sank in. "I've known you for 14 years." You nodded in response. My mind rewinded back to the first time we ate Greek.
It was our first date.
I was 20. You were 23. I was a young 20, and you were a 23 that had already lived a whole lifetime in some ways. You terrified my parents, but your invitation to take me on a date was something for which I had been waiting and mentally begging you for weeks. "This place is one of Chattanooga's only 4 star restaurants", you bragged. You were so excited to show me the world of this amazing food, and I decided I was excited to feel like your arm candy. I was determined that 2002 was going to look good on me, and so far, at least you had decided that I'd been successful.
The whole evening was magic. I don't think either of us wanted it to end so I just kept thinking up places for us to go. I think we drove back and forth across town like three times. You never seemed to be worried about the gas we were using up or the time it was taking to drive all over town in loops.
One of our stops was the bridge. Everyone goes to the bridge. In fact, I saw some friends there and, in my nervousness, I actually left you to go talk to them. One of my friends commented on your eyes. There has always been something captivating about those eyes of yours.
That walk on the bridge ended up having an impact on you, though I wouldn't know for a decade just how much.
"I love you", I told you as I got ready to walk into my house after a date on a night several weeks later. "I love you too....that's what makes this so hard" you said in response...though it almost seemed like you were saying it as much to yourself as to me. Immediately my brow furrowed and my brain silently asked "Makes what so hard?...what does that mean?". Several days later, I found out.
You dumped me. My heart was broken, but I knew yours was too. Our efforts at staying friends were valiant ones but who were we kidding, right? Neither one of us could stand just being friends so I sent you a condescending email and made it all your fault.
Nothing made sense after that. After that day there were things in my life that made me smile, but there was a lot that made me cry. After years had passed and I'd cried enough tears that I decided I was done crying them, I thought of you...and so I found you. I felt like I was getting a chance to come up for air when I saw you. You were not interested. Life was heading in a very decided direction for you and I guess mine was too so we parted ways again.
More years passed...and then came the day that my heart wanted to find you again. Everything was all jumbled up, and a lot of everything just felt completely broken. My head was spinning. I was so absolutely confused, and once my spirit finally crumpled into a heap, I thought of you again. "Dan will tell me the truth...Dan will be able to see it...Dan..." You were my North, and I knew it. I needed to reach for you again and see if you would be my North again.
You would. Reticent at first, though you were, you very quickly embraced me with every part of who you are. For the first time, in some ways, since the day we stood on my front stoop giving each other our last embrace, I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt...like things could make sense.
I'll never forget telling my sister "I'm gonna marry him". "Oh Saruhhhhh!" she said with an exhausted growl at the end of my name. It wasn't me staking my claim, though. I remember being very struck at that moment at the feeling that I had just been given some sort of premonition, and I was just verbalizing what I'd seen.
Our relationship began to grow after that day. We spent so many hours talking and learning about the new versions of each other. 11 years had gone by since we'd really explored the heart of the other...11 years. We'd each become completely different people and yet...I immediately began to feel just like I had 11 years before - that we fit. "We" worked. "We" made sense...so much sense. I felt again that sensation that I was shooting up out of the depths and being allowed to let out a huge gasp to fill my lungs with good clean air. I felt it over and over and over and so often in those first few months.
And then more time passed.
We started hearing a lot of questions about when we were going to get married. This annoyed me to no end. Married on paper was something that I'd already been and not something that I felt that I really ever needed to be ever again. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I knew I was committed to you and that you were committed to me. We had talked about this commitment and that it existed in a very real way without there having been a contract that we signed. I felt it was very unnecessary...and yet...there was a beautiful foggy night in January. You took my hand and walked me across the same bridge we walked across all those years before. When you got down on your knee, I had that sensation again - that feeling of my soul being filled with the most wonderful oxygen. You asked me if I would be your wife and I could not stop myself from saying "YES!". I WANTED it! I wanted nothing more than to be your wife. I had wanted it for so so long, and now it was going to be.
My fairy tale...
The real life versions of fairy tales are different from storybooks because they aren't perfect. They include all the flaws, but they're certainly real and they are definitely beautiful. That's what I was thinking about one year ago today.
At one time, I was the girl who decried getting married. It was so superfluous. We didn't need it, but one year ago today...I knew... I wanted it. I wanted you, and you wanted me and we wanted everybody to know it. Right in the midst of a bunch of bitterly cold days including snow 2 days after, we had an amazing spring-like day. You left the house and as I finished getting ready, I shook away tears that came every time I thought about...time. I had spent so much time apart from you since the time we'd first fallen in love, and now I'd get to be with you forever. On that day I do recall telling you "until the last breath in my lungs and until the last beat of my heart...I am yours".
I didn't know on that day what the upcoming year would be like. I had no idea. Neither of us could have predicted the crazy ride encompassed in the past 365 days. I mean....WE HAD A BABY!!!! There have been days of lots of laughing but there have been a lot of days of hurting - physical and otherwise. So many confusing days. We have asked so many questions of life and of God. We still don't have answers to many of them, but we have this.
We have love.
We have each other.
We have our fairy tale.
So I promise to you again this thing, Dan...my love...
Until the last breath in my lungs and until the last beat of my heart, I am yours.
Happy anniversary.
Saturday, December 19, 2015
On documenting pregnancies
Today I am 35 weeks and 2 days pregnant. The last time I was this many weeks pregnant was almost 4 years ago exactly. My two baby girls' birthdays will be roughly 2 weeks apart. I posted a picture to my social media of my belly last night. I have done a few more of those this pregnancy than I did when I was pregnant with Sally, but I do have some from Sally's time in utero to reference. The last of these is from the 38 weeks and 2 days mark (so many numbers, yeah?) and, though I am not there quite yet, I looked at the picture for comparison...and then I saw the girl and I just thought "Here is me in an nearly identical state in life but as two very, very different versions of myself...wow I am so different. If I could go back and tell 'that' girl some things, what on earth would I say?"
I have spoken before about my experiences on sort of "channeling" other versions of myself in order to provide healing or even rescue for the previous versions of who I am as a human - a being physical and spiritual. Tonight the thought crossed my mind that the "girl" from 4 years ago might need a bit of a pep talk because it wasn't too long after that picture was taken that life got real, real hairy. In fact, let's be fair - life became an utter nightmare that would prove to last an indefinite period of time, and she had zero equipment for what was about to come barrelling towards her face. So if I could go back and have a sit down with her, what would be our checklist?
What would I want "me" to know?
1. Your life is going to change absolutely entirely. Not a shred of the life you built for years and years will be left. There is a storm coming with a force so huge that the structure of work that you have built is going to be completely annihilated. It's all going to be gone. I'm so sorry, but it's all going to be gone.
2. Your self doubt is going to remain but its going to morph into something that is more virtuous - more productive. Life is going to happen in such a way that you will not have the luxury of insecurity. You, like many others that have come before you, are going to have to do things that, if I shared their specifics with you right now, you would believe to be impossible. They're not. You're going to actually pull off some of the craziest, most improbable things, and you won't be thinking about it while you're in the thick of the experience, but just get ready to act on some instincts that you didn't know you had and then turn around afterwards and just be like "Whoa......" with some big half dollar sized eyes.
There is currently a part of yourself that doesn't feel strong enough to fight. Get ready for that part to totally die because the part of you that knows you MUST fight is about to be awakened, and when that happens, there won't be anything anyone can do to quiet it. The only thing that will win will be victory. Necessity will drive a lot of this, but it will be ever present.
3. You are going to be so brutally beaten by life in the coming months. I'm sorry for the pain you're about to feel. It will actually be in addition to the decimation of your dreams - not just part of it. The depth of hellish pain that you're about to know is something that I don't have a way to describe. It's really going to be something bad...but there's some healing coming. Some of the pain that you're going to feel is like the stretching of grafted skin. There is nothing to which we can compare that type of pain, but what is left is going to leave you WAY better equipped than what you would have been before...with what you have now. It's all going to get peeled off and discarded in the bio hazard of life. You will be given a NEW skin that is thicker and stronger and better.
4. There will be surprises. Your life will end up including things that right now you are thinking are things that are "just not my lot in life". Screw the butterfly effect, I'm going to tell you that you're going to get to know the love of a partner complete with adoration and exclusive respect. You will know what it feels like to be endlessly beautiful to someone even on days that you can't find that beauty anywhere in yourself, but he will see it and he will see it in you alone. You will regain the permission to reveal the goofy part of yourself, and you will be celebrated. That part is going to feel so nice, because the goofy part of you is a really big part.
5. You will not get some things figured out at all. There will be some things that remain a mystery. There will be parts of your heart that heal really, really well, but there will be so many things that will continue to frustrate you. Healing takes so, so, so much time. Give yourself that time. You will begin to feel stronger and stronger. Soak up the enjoyment of all that healing and let it carry you on the days that you feel confused.
6. You're going to recognize yourself again. I see the saddened look in your eyes right now. I know exactly how absorbed you are by the things happening around you and the nefarious intent of ones that don't value you. I'm telling you that you are getting ready to become reacquainted with the rescue provided by the Truth. The Truth is honestly about to set you free. Things and people in life are going to try SO HARD to make you feel like you are still bound by their lies and hatefulness and accusations, but the Truth knows and it is going to yank you right out of those lies. Don't be afraid to reach out for it any time the lies and liars start to catch up to you. Truth will win every single time. Let Truth fight the battle for you.
7. You're not alone. Never forget that. You were never alone.
That's what I would tell "her"...if I could go back to that day the picture was taken.
I have spoken before about my experiences on sort of "channeling" other versions of myself in order to provide healing or even rescue for the previous versions of who I am as a human - a being physical and spiritual. Tonight the thought crossed my mind that the "girl" from 4 years ago might need a bit of a pep talk because it wasn't too long after that picture was taken that life got real, real hairy. In fact, let's be fair - life became an utter nightmare that would prove to last an indefinite period of time, and she had zero equipment for what was about to come barrelling towards her face. So if I could go back and have a sit down with her, what would be our checklist?
What would I want "me" to know?
1. Your life is going to change absolutely entirely. Not a shred of the life you built for years and years will be left. There is a storm coming with a force so huge that the structure of work that you have built is going to be completely annihilated. It's all going to be gone. I'm so sorry, but it's all going to be gone.
2. Your self doubt is going to remain but its going to morph into something that is more virtuous - more productive. Life is going to happen in such a way that you will not have the luxury of insecurity. You, like many others that have come before you, are going to have to do things that, if I shared their specifics with you right now, you would believe to be impossible. They're not. You're going to actually pull off some of the craziest, most improbable things, and you won't be thinking about it while you're in the thick of the experience, but just get ready to act on some instincts that you didn't know you had and then turn around afterwards and just be like "Whoa......" with some big half dollar sized eyes.
There is currently a part of yourself that doesn't feel strong enough to fight. Get ready for that part to totally die because the part of you that knows you MUST fight is about to be awakened, and when that happens, there won't be anything anyone can do to quiet it. The only thing that will win will be victory. Necessity will drive a lot of this, but it will be ever present.
3. You are going to be so brutally beaten by life in the coming months. I'm sorry for the pain you're about to feel. It will actually be in addition to the decimation of your dreams - not just part of it. The depth of hellish pain that you're about to know is something that I don't have a way to describe. It's really going to be something bad...but there's some healing coming. Some of the pain that you're going to feel is like the stretching of grafted skin. There is nothing to which we can compare that type of pain, but what is left is going to leave you WAY better equipped than what you would have been before...with what you have now. It's all going to get peeled off and discarded in the bio hazard of life. You will be given a NEW skin that is thicker and stronger and better.
4. There will be surprises. Your life will end up including things that right now you are thinking are things that are "just not my lot in life". Screw the butterfly effect, I'm going to tell you that you're going to get to know the love of a partner complete with adoration and exclusive respect. You will know what it feels like to be endlessly beautiful to someone even on days that you can't find that beauty anywhere in yourself, but he will see it and he will see it in you alone. You will regain the permission to reveal the goofy part of yourself, and you will be celebrated. That part is going to feel so nice, because the goofy part of you is a really big part.
5. You will not get some things figured out at all. There will be some things that remain a mystery. There will be parts of your heart that heal really, really well, but there will be so many things that will continue to frustrate you. Healing takes so, so, so much time. Give yourself that time. You will begin to feel stronger and stronger. Soak up the enjoyment of all that healing and let it carry you on the days that you feel confused.
6. You're going to recognize yourself again. I see the saddened look in your eyes right now. I know exactly how absorbed you are by the things happening around you and the nefarious intent of ones that don't value you. I'm telling you that you are getting ready to become reacquainted with the rescue provided by the Truth. The Truth is honestly about to set you free. Things and people in life are going to try SO HARD to make you feel like you are still bound by their lies and hatefulness and accusations, but the Truth knows and it is going to yank you right out of those lies. Don't be afraid to reach out for it any time the lies and liars start to catch up to you. Truth will win every single time. Let Truth fight the battle for you.
7. You're not alone. Never forget that. You were never alone.
That's what I would tell "her"...if I could go back to that day the picture was taken.
Monday, November 16, 2015
On reading my map
"What do I DO with all of this, Dan?" I asked my husband for what feels like the 4 billionth time.
"I don't mean to sound preachy, but...you need to write", he replied.
I didn't ask him what he thought I should write about, and he didn't supply any suggestions. He just said to write, and as soon as he said it, I knew he was right.
It has been a year since I resurrected this blog. A full year ago my life changed really drastically, and I moved without my children from Florida to Norman, Oklahoma to live with Dan. Think what you may or adopt as your own opinion things you may have heard, but it was definitely not by choice. It was absolutely out of necessity, like if I don't do this, I'm going to become homeless again and these limitations would no longer meet the criteria for staying at the shelter I had before.
It's been a year...a very long year. What a weird ride. I have grown a LOT as a person. I HAVE developed things within myself (with help) that have enabled me to become a way better parent, but as I have said before, things are not easier. A lot of them are actually more difficult than they were before, and I am just sort of confused about what exactly I'm supposed to do with all of it...so I'm doing what I know to do. I have opened up this machine, and I am pressing keys.
Have you ever found yourself to be completely and utterly lost, and you come to a fork in the road (like a literal fork on a literal road while you're on a trip) and it hits you that you have no GPS because you are out of range, and you have no idea whether you are supposed to go right or left? You just sit there trying to draw from your sense of direction and some memory of the last thing that looked sort of familiar, and then another car pulls up behind you forcing you to go one way or the other. You gingerly make the turn hoping there's a place nearby that will show you a sign for where you are or you will happen upon a cell tower that re-enables your GPS so you can get direction that way.
That's where I'm at. I'm at the weird fork thinking "Okay...I followed the map...I followed the rules for where this journey SAID it was going to take me, but something somewhere was either an inaccuracy supplied to me or my own errancy as a human has brought me here. At this point, it is completely impossible to determine which of those is actually true...impossible. All I know is that I am at a complete loss for what step I am supposed to take next. I have no strategy anymore. I'm just going to take a leap and try to overcome misinformation or inadequate information that has been supplied to me and rely on every resource I have right now to get on a more effective track."
Oh. I guess I should also mention that there are now FOUR people that are depending on me to get us all where we need to go. I'm not in the vehicle of my life by myself.
I'm positive I'm not the only person this has happened to, but these experiences have a very keen way of making us as humans feel incredibly isolated. I find myself to be alone at least until I can reach one of the above mentioned resources.
Would you like to know the other frustrating part? Over the course of this past year, I have found myself sitting at NUMEROUS forks. The one at which I now sit is NOT my first one. I'm beginning to feel like I mistakenly picked up the map that is for a totally different journey - someone else's or just a different destination altogether. I have found myself picking up my "map" a bunch of times re-reading the writing on the front to confirm that I chose the correct one and getting that confirmation each time only to continue finding myself at these dad-blasted weirdo forks!!!
I don't know, you guys. I don't know why this has been my life. This feels like the most cruelly circuitous route for something that looked at the outset to be a straight shot. I have no more explanation than I did since the FIRST fork as to why that has not been true...except for this...one...thing.
This trip has led me down roads that I never would have seen had my expectations of the straight shot been my reality. I have seen parts of the journey of life that would have been a total mystery to me had I been given the choice to avoid the loops and curves. It has also given my three already born little ones the ability to watch me navigate. Journeys are especially hard for navigators, and we ALL end up finding ourselves in the position of being the navigator at some point. They have watched me with rapt attention to see how I reacted to all of this craziness. Sometimes I have shouted out at incompetant fellow sojourners or mumbled under my breath at how arduous this task has been. I have fallen flat on my face...but there have been other times that the speed of the traffic around me has been so intense and dangerous or the landscape indescribably treacherous and I have narrowed my gaze, taken a deep breath and gotten us through to safety. They have watched all that too. They have seen things that they will tuck away into the boxes of their memories, and one day, while they are on their own journeys and THEIR GPS fails or THEIR maps don't make sense, they will simply open up that box and find the answer there. I know this to be true because there have been times on my journey that I have done the same thing. My parents' journeys seemed to have SOME parts that were simpler, so I haven't felt like I had materials for every single circumstance. I mean, that's really an impossibility anyway, but what if the complexity of my journey is just a greater help to all four little hearts later?
You know what too? I've covered a lot of ground in just shy of 34 years...a lot. I now have the ability to tell other people where this thing or that is located. There are parts of this journey that are so indelibly imprinted on my brain that, if someone seeks information about a path or a landmark, I will immediately be able to recall how to get there and what things surround it.
I have to be honest. There are times that I feel so very like Wesley on the rack in The Princess Bride. How FAR can we crank this sucker up? or How WEIRD can we possibly make this?
Whatever.
I guess I'm still holding on to that dream of being the little old lady that finally feels content with the amount of answers that I ended up with by the time my hair has totally greyed and my whole face crinkles when I smile instead of just my eyes.
Someone called me wise the other day. People call me strong all the time. I get so embarrassed when those comments come my way. My first impulse is to turn around to see the person behind me that they must be talking about because THIS lil mama feels more confused than anyone I know...but what if I represent those things to other people? What if I represent some semblance of safety and calm to just a few other people looking at their wacky maps too?
I'll take it.
This CAN'T all just be a big ol mistake (in fact, I don't truly believe it is. I just really hate feeling lost or ill prepared. It's very scary to me).
There is a problem with me analogizing life to a map, really. Maps are set pictures. We can immediately see the beginning to the end, and life is not like that at all. Rather we are sometimes given large portions of information for the next steps to take and sometimes we are only given a little bit. We are actually NEVER supplied with information regarding the entire journey.
So why do we allow ourselves to think of things in those terms? Do we not all do that to a degree? Or maybe life ends up being like a cumulative map rather than a completed page that we're given.
Either way...here I sit at the fork - biting the skin off my lip and hoping that opening my eyes a little wider makes them catch something that gives me a clue. In the mean time, I'm just going to take a breath and then look in the rearview mirror at the three sets of eyes that expect me to do well...and I'll do it.
"I don't mean to sound preachy, but...you need to write", he replied.
I didn't ask him what he thought I should write about, and he didn't supply any suggestions. He just said to write, and as soon as he said it, I knew he was right.
It has been a year since I resurrected this blog. A full year ago my life changed really drastically, and I moved without my children from Florida to Norman, Oklahoma to live with Dan. Think what you may or adopt as your own opinion things you may have heard, but it was definitely not by choice. It was absolutely out of necessity, like if I don't do this, I'm going to become homeless again and these limitations would no longer meet the criteria for staying at the shelter I had before.
It's been a year...a very long year. What a weird ride. I have grown a LOT as a person. I HAVE developed things within myself (with help) that have enabled me to become a way better parent, but as I have said before, things are not easier. A lot of them are actually more difficult than they were before, and I am just sort of confused about what exactly I'm supposed to do with all of it...so I'm doing what I know to do. I have opened up this machine, and I am pressing keys.
Have you ever found yourself to be completely and utterly lost, and you come to a fork in the road (like a literal fork on a literal road while you're on a trip) and it hits you that you have no GPS because you are out of range, and you have no idea whether you are supposed to go right or left? You just sit there trying to draw from your sense of direction and some memory of the last thing that looked sort of familiar, and then another car pulls up behind you forcing you to go one way or the other. You gingerly make the turn hoping there's a place nearby that will show you a sign for where you are or you will happen upon a cell tower that re-enables your GPS so you can get direction that way.
That's where I'm at. I'm at the weird fork thinking "Okay...I followed the map...I followed the rules for where this journey SAID it was going to take me, but something somewhere was either an inaccuracy supplied to me or my own errancy as a human has brought me here. At this point, it is completely impossible to determine which of those is actually true...impossible. All I know is that I am at a complete loss for what step I am supposed to take next. I have no strategy anymore. I'm just going to take a leap and try to overcome misinformation or inadequate information that has been supplied to me and rely on every resource I have right now to get on a more effective track."
Oh. I guess I should also mention that there are now FOUR people that are depending on me to get us all where we need to go. I'm not in the vehicle of my life by myself.
I'm positive I'm not the only person this has happened to, but these experiences have a very keen way of making us as humans feel incredibly isolated. I find myself to be alone at least until I can reach one of the above mentioned resources.
Would you like to know the other frustrating part? Over the course of this past year, I have found myself sitting at NUMEROUS forks. The one at which I now sit is NOT my first one. I'm beginning to feel like I mistakenly picked up the map that is for a totally different journey - someone else's or just a different destination altogether. I have found myself picking up my "map" a bunch of times re-reading the writing on the front to confirm that I chose the correct one and getting that confirmation each time only to continue finding myself at these dad-blasted weirdo forks!!!
I don't know, you guys. I don't know why this has been my life. This feels like the most cruelly circuitous route for something that looked at the outset to be a straight shot. I have no more explanation than I did since the FIRST fork as to why that has not been true...except for this...one...thing.
This trip has led me down roads that I never would have seen had my expectations of the straight shot been my reality. I have seen parts of the journey of life that would have been a total mystery to me had I been given the choice to avoid the loops and curves. It has also given my three already born little ones the ability to watch me navigate. Journeys are especially hard for navigators, and we ALL end up finding ourselves in the position of being the navigator at some point. They have watched me with rapt attention to see how I reacted to all of this craziness. Sometimes I have shouted out at incompetant fellow sojourners or mumbled under my breath at how arduous this task has been. I have fallen flat on my face...but there have been other times that the speed of the traffic around me has been so intense and dangerous or the landscape indescribably treacherous and I have narrowed my gaze, taken a deep breath and gotten us through to safety. They have watched all that too. They have seen things that they will tuck away into the boxes of their memories, and one day, while they are on their own journeys and THEIR GPS fails or THEIR maps don't make sense, they will simply open up that box and find the answer there. I know this to be true because there have been times on my journey that I have done the same thing. My parents' journeys seemed to have SOME parts that were simpler, so I haven't felt like I had materials for every single circumstance. I mean, that's really an impossibility anyway, but what if the complexity of my journey is just a greater help to all four little hearts later?
You know what too? I've covered a lot of ground in just shy of 34 years...a lot. I now have the ability to tell other people where this thing or that is located. There are parts of this journey that are so indelibly imprinted on my brain that, if someone seeks information about a path or a landmark, I will immediately be able to recall how to get there and what things surround it.
I have to be honest. There are times that I feel so very like Wesley on the rack in The Princess Bride. How FAR can we crank this sucker up? or How WEIRD can we possibly make this?
Whatever.
I guess I'm still holding on to that dream of being the little old lady that finally feels content with the amount of answers that I ended up with by the time my hair has totally greyed and my whole face crinkles when I smile instead of just my eyes.
Someone called me wise the other day. People call me strong all the time. I get so embarrassed when those comments come my way. My first impulse is to turn around to see the person behind me that they must be talking about because THIS lil mama feels more confused than anyone I know...but what if I represent those things to other people? What if I represent some semblance of safety and calm to just a few other people looking at their wacky maps too?
I'll take it.
This CAN'T all just be a big ol mistake (in fact, I don't truly believe it is. I just really hate feeling lost or ill prepared. It's very scary to me).
There is a problem with me analogizing life to a map, really. Maps are set pictures. We can immediately see the beginning to the end, and life is not like that at all. Rather we are sometimes given large portions of information for the next steps to take and sometimes we are only given a little bit. We are actually NEVER supplied with information regarding the entire journey.
So why do we allow ourselves to think of things in those terms? Do we not all do that to a degree? Or maybe life ends up being like a cumulative map rather than a completed page that we're given.
Either way...here I sit at the fork - biting the skin off my lip and hoping that opening my eyes a little wider makes them catch something that gives me a clue. In the mean time, I'm just going to take a breath and then look in the rearview mirror at the three sets of eyes that expect me to do well...and I'll do it.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
On living in a fish bowl
Well I have not been disciplined about writing on the blog this summer and fall. I have indeed had a bit of a mental block against it, but I have felt weight bearing down on my soul now for too many weeks in a row. It's time. I need to clear some space up there. I gotta think some of this through.
As of late the thing that is causing me the greatest amount of frustration is feeling like I am living under scrutiny - like a fish in a bowl. I do not mean to say that I am prominent enough in any sect of society to draw attention or interest from a very large group of people. I am referring to that feeling that we ALL encounter - that someone - anyone is picking apart parts of your life. It's so unsettling.
I have moved a bazillion times. I have loves literally all over the world. I use Facebook specifically as a way to keep in touch with everyone and also share with them trials and struggles as well as blessings and doses of happiness that come into my life. Without Facebook, I would not have the ability to do that. I live in a place around zero family, so this is vital for me - someone who is incredibly emotionally close with my family and close friends who are family except for genetics. I am also part of Facebook groups for my children's activities. That is the only update, in some cases, that I get for their goings on. I mean, let's be real. It's almost 2016. Snail mail and paper copies are just not something people use as much with paper costs, printing costs and postage.
I use social media as a necessity. First world problems - yeah, but guess what. That's where I live. If I lived in a different place, then those cultural norms would dictate my life.
So we've established the things I like about social media - quick access to family and other loved ones and to the things my kids have going on. It's so nice for me when someone takes time out of their life to send me a private message to tell me that they love me. That goes a million miles for me to know that there are people who are willing to read through some of my more cryptic statuses and choose to love my heart and understand what I mean but am not at liberty to say.
Here's what I don't like: Remember how I've referred before to those that "wait like a devil in the dark"? I've got a few of those. I know they're there, and I even know who some of them are, but there are some whose identities I don't know. I also have a problem with the "there are two sides to every story" people. THOSE are the people I would love to sell ANYthing to. God forbid they accuse someone of being dishonest (on one side of the coin) or be "forward" enough to ask for real answers. I am not referring to people that I'm only casual friends with. I'm talking about those people that have known me for years and years and just choose to stay (and I DESPISE this word) "neutral" so they don't have to sacrifice their own comfort or get their hands dirty.
The reason THIS person seems to me to be the most nefarious or at least damaging is because they ALSO usually seem to be the ones that it gets back to me have criticized me. THESE are the people that are the most hurtful to me. These are the first people about whom I think "But you weren't even THERE for the thing about which you are speaking. How dare you speak with authority about something you did not witness while at the same time claiming that you don't have a dog in the fight?". These people hurt me the most.
I have felt SO many times lately "Okay, so if I share struggles that are going on in my life and get even remotely specific, then I get accused of being petty or ungrateful (and yes. Lately I have had someone say that to my face) If I share happy things that I are going on, then I have fear that people will accuse me of being disingenuous instead of them understanding that I refuse to ignore the fact that my life does and always will contain beauty that I want to celebrate even in the midst of the ugliest storm". And it's basically all because of the people about whom I am unsure of their loyalty. It's so hurtful. I never have to worry about the people that I "keep close" because it's easier even though I do not trust them at all. I already know what to do with them. It's because of the people that leave me unsure.
But Sarah, that is true for everyone at every point in life. You're always going to have people that do that everywhere you go. YES!!!! If you were thinking that thought, then you hit today's sentiment spot on. My difficulty is this. I am not perfect, but there is a Pollyanna-esque part of my soul that always wants to look on the bright side - to believe that everyone I encounter will do the same amount of research I do to get hard and fast truth before even conversing with someone about something that has happened. I guess that's virtuous because everyone does always deserve their own chance. There is a vicious side too, though. That's the abuse survivor part of myself that sticks my head in the sand so I don't have to face the ugly truth that there are TRULY ugly, selfish people in the world who want to do just enough to appease their own consciences or have something interesting to talk about because they keep their own worlds so small. There is the part of my heart that knows what it's like to allow that kind of behavior in someone JUST BECAUSE they act nicely towards you part of the time. I want so much to believe that people will be careful with my heart...but they aren't.
I also don't want to be so closed off that my heart does not give love to other hearts that need hugs and love. If I choose to ONLY protect myself and my own, I will create an effective buffer, but I will also create terrible limitations on what I'm able to do and receive.
BALANCE. IS. HARD.
It's a scary world, you guys because you know what? We are never going to have a way to totally and completely effectively protect ourselves from being used by others. That is something that I have definitely learned the hard, heartbreaking way. There is not a way to go to each of my Facebook friends and ask "Um, do you really honestly love me? Do you protect my heart when you speak of me and the things in my life or do you use me for something selfish or incomplete?" First of all, that is weird and very desperate. It's also not going to work. I wouldn't get honest answers. So I am left with the same thing with which I started, right?
Yes, except I haven't acknowledged yet in this post what all I have in my arsenal and what you also have in yours. I have truth. I know the truth. I know what I have lived first hand, and I know who did or did not witness it. I also know my own shortcomings and the areas where I have grown leaps and bounds - especially in the last 11 months. Those are things that no one can take away from me. If I forget that because someone gossips about me or acts a little fishy, that is my fault - not theirs.
Truth is so powerful, guys. On the days that the legs of my soul feel the most wobbly, it is because I have brushed past the shoulder of truth because I have ignored its silent presence for the sake of lies that are just so loud. (Isn't it funny to think about the fact that truth is most often a "silent" presence in our lives? We almost have to LOOK for it more often than we LISTEN for it)
So this has been my frustration for a WHILE. This is another one that was mostly another reminder for me. If you glean something from it that helps, I am forever grateful for your attention and that maybe this can help.
Meanwhile, what do you say about the next post being about how awesome true friends have been to me and what I did recently when I realized I'd mistakenly thrown one away?
I love you guys.
As of late the thing that is causing me the greatest amount of frustration is feeling like I am living under scrutiny - like a fish in a bowl. I do not mean to say that I am prominent enough in any sect of society to draw attention or interest from a very large group of people. I am referring to that feeling that we ALL encounter - that someone - anyone is picking apart parts of your life. It's so unsettling.
I have moved a bazillion times. I have loves literally all over the world. I use Facebook specifically as a way to keep in touch with everyone and also share with them trials and struggles as well as blessings and doses of happiness that come into my life. Without Facebook, I would not have the ability to do that. I live in a place around zero family, so this is vital for me - someone who is incredibly emotionally close with my family and close friends who are family except for genetics. I am also part of Facebook groups for my children's activities. That is the only update, in some cases, that I get for their goings on. I mean, let's be real. It's almost 2016. Snail mail and paper copies are just not something people use as much with paper costs, printing costs and postage.
I use social media as a necessity. First world problems - yeah, but guess what. That's where I live. If I lived in a different place, then those cultural norms would dictate my life.
So we've established the things I like about social media - quick access to family and other loved ones and to the things my kids have going on. It's so nice for me when someone takes time out of their life to send me a private message to tell me that they love me. That goes a million miles for me to know that there are people who are willing to read through some of my more cryptic statuses and choose to love my heart and understand what I mean but am not at liberty to say.
Here's what I don't like: Remember how I've referred before to those that "wait like a devil in the dark"? I've got a few of those. I know they're there, and I even know who some of them are, but there are some whose identities I don't know. I also have a problem with the "there are two sides to every story" people. THOSE are the people I would love to sell ANYthing to. God forbid they accuse someone of being dishonest (on one side of the coin) or be "forward" enough to ask for real answers. I am not referring to people that I'm only casual friends with. I'm talking about those people that have known me for years and years and just choose to stay (and I DESPISE this word) "neutral" so they don't have to sacrifice their own comfort or get their hands dirty.
The reason THIS person seems to me to be the most nefarious or at least damaging is because they ALSO usually seem to be the ones that it gets back to me have criticized me. THESE are the people that are the most hurtful to me. These are the first people about whom I think "But you weren't even THERE for the thing about which you are speaking. How dare you speak with authority about something you did not witness while at the same time claiming that you don't have a dog in the fight?". These people hurt me the most.
I have felt SO many times lately "Okay, so if I share struggles that are going on in my life and get even remotely specific, then I get accused of being petty or ungrateful (and yes. Lately I have had someone say that to my face) If I share happy things that I are going on, then I have fear that people will accuse me of being disingenuous instead of them understanding that I refuse to ignore the fact that my life does and always will contain beauty that I want to celebrate even in the midst of the ugliest storm". And it's basically all because of the people about whom I am unsure of their loyalty. It's so hurtful. I never have to worry about the people that I "keep close" because it's easier even though I do not trust them at all. I already know what to do with them. It's because of the people that leave me unsure.
But Sarah, that is true for everyone at every point in life. You're always going to have people that do that everywhere you go. YES!!!! If you were thinking that thought, then you hit today's sentiment spot on. My difficulty is this. I am not perfect, but there is a Pollyanna-esque part of my soul that always wants to look on the bright side - to believe that everyone I encounter will do the same amount of research I do to get hard and fast truth before even conversing with someone about something that has happened. I guess that's virtuous because everyone does always deserve their own chance. There is a vicious side too, though. That's the abuse survivor part of myself that sticks my head in the sand so I don't have to face the ugly truth that there are TRULY ugly, selfish people in the world who want to do just enough to appease their own consciences or have something interesting to talk about because they keep their own worlds so small. There is the part of my heart that knows what it's like to allow that kind of behavior in someone JUST BECAUSE they act nicely towards you part of the time. I want so much to believe that people will be careful with my heart...but they aren't.
I also don't want to be so closed off that my heart does not give love to other hearts that need hugs and love. If I choose to ONLY protect myself and my own, I will create an effective buffer, but I will also create terrible limitations on what I'm able to do and receive.
BALANCE. IS. HARD.
It's a scary world, you guys because you know what? We are never going to have a way to totally and completely effectively protect ourselves from being used by others. That is something that I have definitely learned the hard, heartbreaking way. There is not a way to go to each of my Facebook friends and ask "Um, do you really honestly love me? Do you protect my heart when you speak of me and the things in my life or do you use me for something selfish or incomplete?" First of all, that is weird and very desperate. It's also not going to work. I wouldn't get honest answers. So I am left with the same thing with which I started, right?
Yes, except I haven't acknowledged yet in this post what all I have in my arsenal and what you also have in yours. I have truth. I know the truth. I know what I have lived first hand, and I know who did or did not witness it. I also know my own shortcomings and the areas where I have grown leaps and bounds - especially in the last 11 months. Those are things that no one can take away from me. If I forget that because someone gossips about me or acts a little fishy, that is my fault - not theirs.
Truth is so powerful, guys. On the days that the legs of my soul feel the most wobbly, it is because I have brushed past the shoulder of truth because I have ignored its silent presence for the sake of lies that are just so loud. (Isn't it funny to think about the fact that truth is most often a "silent" presence in our lives? We almost have to LOOK for it more often than we LISTEN for it)
So this has been my frustration for a WHILE. This is another one that was mostly another reminder for me. If you glean something from it that helps, I am forever grateful for your attention and that maybe this can help.
Meanwhile, what do you say about the next post being about how awesome true friends have been to me and what I did recently when I realized I'd mistakenly thrown one away?
I love you guys.
Friday, August 28, 2015
On boxes for moving and babies in bellies
This summer has been an absolute whirlwind. My head is spinning still as we spend up the rest of summer's days. I think I had an idea in my mind on what it would be like when I got back here, and every experience completely defied all my preconceived notions. There were things for which I felt sure I would be totally prepared that have knocked me on my back side. It has all left me feeling quite lost and very confused about how I'm supposed to proceed.
The biggest surprise this summer was, indeed, the baby! My husband and I had discussed for a while the idea and the planning necessary for bringing another baby into our family. We had made plans to try starting the beginning of the year, but, knowing about our impending move, to take a year long break from trying if we were not successful by March. In March I began to have terrible and familiar pains, so off to the hospital we went. After having these pains for a year and a half, I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts (pain level: think kidney stones). There were some in both ovaries. It seemed like our fate was sort of sealed - at least temporarily. I had never had them in my life until the couple years, so I began to research articles and ask a lot of friends about how this could affect my health. Bottom line - infertility was a GIANT likelihood.
We began the dialogue about not adding any more children to our family and just loving the three that we have, but it seemed pretty safe to bet that babies any time soon were NOT going to be a possibility. We resigned ourselves to the fact that we would need to wait that year and get life settled. Getting pregnant after March would mean a bit of a logistical nightmare, after all.
One night I began to have the same terrible pain, but there was another sensation added. The only way I can describe it is being electrocuted from my hips all the way to my knees. The cyst had burst (it was as fun as it sounds...ask anyone who has had one). It was about 20 minutes of the most cruel and unusual punishment my body had every dealt me. I was starting to get really exhausted by having constant physical pain...every...single...day.
Well guess what happened. 3 weeks later, I peed on the stick and saw two lines. I was SHOCKED! Also immediately terrified. My pregnancies tend to be very impeding and extremely uncomfortable, and I had a LOT to do!!!! BODY!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???
Very soon after, I had my first ER visit this pregnancy (I dehydrate SO easily, so I often have to get help for rehydration). During that visit's ultrasound, the tech rattled off everything she was seeing, but something she said caught my immediate attention. She mentioned the ovary from which the egg had been released. It was from the same ovary that had the bigger cyst in it - the one that had so furiously ruptured and ripped through my nether regions...4 days before that tiny little egg needed to make its way on its journey. 4...days. If that cyst had remained or ruptured 4 days later, who knows what would have been the fate of the egg?
I'm just going to tell you. Being pregnant right now has been so, so, so difficult, but if any kid was supposed to exist, I have to argue that this little bean is. I don't know what the story for her life will be (yes. it's a girl) but it's going to be a ride if her start is any indicator. Do you know anything about ovarian cysts? Do you understand how high against me the odds should have been stacked? I had just days of remote health after having these vicious things for over a year! I was misdiagnosed at another hospital when I first began to have these pains, so they went untreated an unmonitored for how every many months I had them. The possibility of damage is another likelihood with this kind of thing, I've heard. The orchestra of events that needed to play in order for this baby to happen is an intricate one. It is music indeed. I am still confused and still terrified (sidenote: it doesn't matter how many children you have. It's still terrifying every time) but grateful.
So in January, Audrey Hazel Cheon is going to show the world what her face looks like.
The rest of my challenges mentioned in other posts still exist. Some of them have grown. Some have arrived - new ones (I know. I'm shaking my head about it, but roll with the punches, right?) I'm trying to reenter the world of being healthy of mind and heart. Though I never really left because the lessons of healing from earlier this year are seared into my soul, I don't want to stagnate. It's hard, though, folks. It's work to grow, and if something is zapping your spiritual or physical energy, you may not feel like it. Choose it. Choose with me to grow in spite of being exhausted.
I apologize that I have done so poorly with making additions to this blog, but I'm still hoping to do better. Thank you again for every minute you've spent reading all my disjointed thoughts.
Adieu, friends.
The biggest surprise this summer was, indeed, the baby! My husband and I had discussed for a while the idea and the planning necessary for bringing another baby into our family. We had made plans to try starting the beginning of the year, but, knowing about our impending move, to take a year long break from trying if we were not successful by March. In March I began to have terrible and familiar pains, so off to the hospital we went. After having these pains for a year and a half, I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts (pain level: think kidney stones). There were some in both ovaries. It seemed like our fate was sort of sealed - at least temporarily. I had never had them in my life until the couple years, so I began to research articles and ask a lot of friends about how this could affect my health. Bottom line - infertility was a GIANT likelihood.
We began the dialogue about not adding any more children to our family and just loving the three that we have, but it seemed pretty safe to bet that babies any time soon were NOT going to be a possibility. We resigned ourselves to the fact that we would need to wait that year and get life settled. Getting pregnant after March would mean a bit of a logistical nightmare, after all.
One night I began to have the same terrible pain, but there was another sensation added. The only way I can describe it is being electrocuted from my hips all the way to my knees. The cyst had burst (it was as fun as it sounds...ask anyone who has had one). It was about 20 minutes of the most cruel and unusual punishment my body had every dealt me. I was starting to get really exhausted by having constant physical pain...every...single...day.
Well guess what happened. 3 weeks later, I peed on the stick and saw two lines. I was SHOCKED! Also immediately terrified. My pregnancies tend to be very impeding and extremely uncomfortable, and I had a LOT to do!!!! BODY!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???
Very soon after, I had my first ER visit this pregnancy (I dehydrate SO easily, so I often have to get help for rehydration). During that visit's ultrasound, the tech rattled off everything she was seeing, but something she said caught my immediate attention. She mentioned the ovary from which the egg had been released. It was from the same ovary that had the bigger cyst in it - the one that had so furiously ruptured and ripped through my nether regions...4 days before that tiny little egg needed to make its way on its journey. 4...days. If that cyst had remained or ruptured 4 days later, who knows what would have been the fate of the egg?
I'm just going to tell you. Being pregnant right now has been so, so, so difficult, but if any kid was supposed to exist, I have to argue that this little bean is. I don't know what the story for her life will be (yes. it's a girl) but it's going to be a ride if her start is any indicator. Do you know anything about ovarian cysts? Do you understand how high against me the odds should have been stacked? I had just days of remote health after having these vicious things for over a year! I was misdiagnosed at another hospital when I first began to have these pains, so they went untreated an unmonitored for how every many months I had them. The possibility of damage is another likelihood with this kind of thing, I've heard. The orchestra of events that needed to play in order for this baby to happen is an intricate one. It is music indeed. I am still confused and still terrified (sidenote: it doesn't matter how many children you have. It's still terrifying every time) but grateful.
So in January, Audrey Hazel Cheon is going to show the world what her face looks like.
The rest of my challenges mentioned in other posts still exist. Some of them have grown. Some have arrived - new ones (I know. I'm shaking my head about it, but roll with the punches, right?) I'm trying to reenter the world of being healthy of mind and heart. Though I never really left because the lessons of healing from earlier this year are seared into my soul, I don't want to stagnate. It's hard, though, folks. It's work to grow, and if something is zapping your spiritual or physical energy, you may not feel like it. Choose it. Choose with me to grow in spite of being exhausted.
I apologize that I have done so poorly with making additions to this blog, but I'm still hoping to do better. Thank you again for every minute you've spent reading all my disjointed thoughts.
Adieu, friends.
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