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As you may recall, I am a hopeless romantic. As such, when I was younger, I thought/hoped (?) passion would be a sweeping love story, 24x7x365, epic physical connection.
Then reality hit.
That level of emotion can't be sustained when the day in and day out redundancies of life hit. At least that hasn't been my reality to date.
As I get older, I realize that passion for LIFE is a totally different animal than physical, emotional passion. And that, well that, I do have.
Then reality hit.
That level of emotion can't be sustained when the day in and day out redundancies of life hit. At least that hasn't been my reality to date.
As I get older, I realize that passion for LIFE is a totally different animal than physical, emotional passion. And that, well that, I do have.
And now...this post will get long. (You've been warned.)
A year ago today I crossed over the threshold of a door and became part of a group of 12 women called the Ring of Health. Our goal was to eat right, exercise and participate in group therapy.
I had been in therapy in and out over the years. I had rarely gotten to the bottom of anything. Did you know therapy is useless if you lie to yourself?
This time, I was going all in. I was going to be honest with myself and figure out just what the hell had been holding me back from the me I recalled from days gone by.
There is a certain amount of all of us that gets lost when we start a family. Those darling little cherubs require parts of our souls we didn't know existed. And we want nothing more than to give them every little part of ourselves we can. Which is great. Until it's not.
Now, would I change a thing about how much of me I doled out to my luvvies? Not really. In the whole scheme of teenagers, I have two amazing people. A big portion of that is the insane amount of time we have put into raising them. But somewhere along the line, pieces of me were forgotten. For a while, I identified myself as an ATM and taxi, card carrying PTA volunteer.
These days, Peter drives. Both kids work. I have scaled down on my PTA activities to one giant event a year. Those labels have been removed. Do I still drive Bella the 2/10ths of a mile to school almost every morning? Yep. Her backpack weighs more than she does. Spring sports add the LAX backpack and her stick. As of last Friday, she has an inflamed shoulder and is sporting a sling. So yes, I drive her. But that will end very soon too.
In what seems like a blink of an eye, my babies are quite nearly 16 and 17. Their growth continued while mine took a back burner. I am not alone in this. Almost every woman I know has felt like this at some point. (I am more than certain men feel the same way. They don't vocalize it nearly as much as women do. That PSA is just in case you haven't figured that out. )
There are the rare few who have managed to stay true to themselves, but too many of us have put our own needs away while tending to our families. Again, this isn't a bad thing. It's just what we do.
ANYway. In this span of a year I have found that the wings I was born with, that apparently got clipped for the better part of a couple of decades, are back. They're not fully showing, but, I can feel them.
I like who I am most of the time.
I foresee huge changes still to come. Some will be very hard. Some will be delightful. And the universe will heave a sigh of relief when all of it is the way it was meant to be from the get go.
On our yoga retreat Cara recalled something she read that stated, we should all, at least once a day, cry, laugh, and tell someone you love them.
When I walked in the gym this morning I burst into tears. Lucky for me, I work out with amazing women who literally stopped what they were doing to make sure I was OK. Jen, being Jen, assured me I would be better once I worked out. Naturally, she was right. I must have laughed at something while at the gym - it is, after all, a pretty funny place. I know I will laugh way more than once today, I live with funny people. I tell my kids I love them every day before they leave for school and every night before bed. If they are out and about during the day, I say it as they walk out the door. I texted a friend I haven't seen in too, too long that I missed them. Then, I texted them to remind them I love them too.
Try it. You'll feel better at the end of the day I bet.
JUST SO YOU KNOW... I love you.
A year ago today I crossed over the threshold of a door and became part of a group of 12 women called the Ring of Health. Our goal was to eat right, exercise and participate in group therapy.
I had been in therapy in and out over the years. I had rarely gotten to the bottom of anything. Did you know therapy is useless if you lie to yourself?
This time, I was going all in. I was going to be honest with myself and figure out just what the hell had been holding me back from the me I recalled from days gone by.
There is a certain amount of all of us that gets lost when we start a family. Those darling little cherubs require parts of our souls we didn't know existed. And we want nothing more than to give them every little part of ourselves we can. Which is great. Until it's not.
Now, would I change a thing about how much of me I doled out to my luvvies? Not really. In the whole scheme of teenagers, I have two amazing people. A big portion of that is the insane amount of time we have put into raising them. But somewhere along the line, pieces of me were forgotten. For a while, I identified myself as an ATM and taxi, card carrying PTA volunteer.
These days, Peter drives. Both kids work. I have scaled down on my PTA activities to one giant event a year. Those labels have been removed. Do I still drive Bella the 2/10ths of a mile to school almost every morning? Yep. Her backpack weighs more than she does. Spring sports add the LAX backpack and her stick. As of last Friday, she has an inflamed shoulder and is sporting a sling. So yes, I drive her. But that will end very soon too.
In what seems like a blink of an eye, my babies are quite nearly 16 and 17. Their growth continued while mine took a back burner. I am not alone in this. Almost every woman I know has felt like this at some point. (I am more than certain men feel the same way. They don't vocalize it nearly as much as women do. That PSA is just in case you haven't figured that out. )
There are the rare few who have managed to stay true to themselves, but too many of us have put our own needs away while tending to our families. Again, this isn't a bad thing. It's just what we do.
ANYway. In this span of a year I have found that the wings I was born with, that apparently got clipped for the better part of a couple of decades, are back. They're not fully showing, but, I can feel them.
I like who I am most of the time.
- A year ago, I didn't have a college degree. I do now.
- A year ago, I had never uttered the words, "The Glass House Retreat."
- A year ago, I had an unpublished blog that never saw the light of day. Fear kept me from writing. Now, I write for me and I am just over the moon delighted others like what I write and support me. I no longer fear my truth.
- A year ago, I was nowhere near as physically fit as I am now.
- A year ago, I was utterly unhappy, but to see me, oh, I faked it well and you would have thought I was just ducky. (I never fully fooled my sisters...)
- A year ago, I knew I had a book in me. It's been started. And stopped. And started. And stopped. But it's here.
I foresee huge changes still to come. Some will be very hard. Some will be delightful. And the universe will heave a sigh of relief when all of it is the way it was meant to be from the get go.
On our yoga retreat Cara recalled something she read that stated, we should all, at least once a day, cry, laugh, and tell someone you love them.
When I walked in the gym this morning I burst into tears. Lucky for me, I work out with amazing women who literally stopped what they were doing to make sure I was OK. Jen, being Jen, assured me I would be better once I worked out. Naturally, she was right. I must have laughed at something while at the gym - it is, after all, a pretty funny place. I know I will laugh way more than once today, I live with funny people. I tell my kids I love them every day before they leave for school and every night before bed. If they are out and about during the day, I say it as they walk out the door. I texted a friend I haven't seen in too, too long that I missed them. Then, I texted them to remind them I love them too.
Try it. You'll feel better at the end of the day I bet.
JUST SO YOU KNOW... I love you.
This was the very first song to pop into my head when I started thinking about this blog. Of course it was.
http://youtu.be/5TCMpA5TfHc
http://youtu.be/5TCMpA5TfHc
