“It’s ok to feel your feelings.” I whispered into her ear as she sobbed.
She’s been so angry lately.
But I knew better.
This had nothing to do with who she is
And everything to do with what she felt.
She was lost and anger was the easiest path.
Let’s be real.
It’s easier to be angry than it is to admit you’re vulnerable and wounded.
The Great Facade.
At first, a thread.
Then, the seam.
Piece by piece,
My unraveling.
Not the sort you might think:
My pretty dress, favorite shirt.
Instead, my knots.
My tension, stress, anxiety.
Bit-by-bit,
Loosening.
Letting go.
They are all off to school.
I said no to volunteering.
And here I am.
Unraveling the last dozen years.
There was a moment when I considered adding to the size of this knot.
More money, more things, more praise.
Instead,
Less.
Unraveling.
Piece to Peace.
Camille Vaughan Photography
They were my island.
My safe haven from the rushing waters.
In time, the shoreline shrank, leaving me grasping for olive branches.
I had a choice to make.
Do I stay, hoping and praying for the island to return?
Instead, I let go.
Allowing the current to take me.
I built my own boat from the surrounding pieces of my life.
And found myself stronger than ever.
The Captain.
He said, “I wasn’t sure you still had it in you. You’ve been inside so much.”
I laughed.
Oh, you think?
You think I’ve been inside a lot the last 12 years of raising our children?
Yes.
I’ve been inside cooking meals and folding laundry.
I’ve been inside doctor’s offices and school buildings.
I’ve been inside the heart of our family.
But please don’t lose sight of me.
My soul has always lived outdoors.
I’m still here.
I’ve been here all along.
I spent the better part of my first forty years desperate for others to understand how far I’ve come from where I started.
Surely, they’d respect and understand me more?
But now I know, we all have stories, untold.
And it’s best to approach all with the grace we’ve always wished upon ourselves.
Hold my hand.
Lean in.
We’ve come so far.
I just experienced the Barbie movie.
And I’m shook.
It moved me to tears.
This movie was masterfully made.
Funny, thought-provoking and meaningful.
The set design was epic.
The cast, impeccable.
The humanity- relatable.
A mother and her “tween” daughter at odds who ultimately work together to help Barbie and her land find their purpose.
America Ferrera’s speech to “wake up” the barbies: “I’m just so tired of watching myself, and every single other woman, tie herself into knots so that people will like us.”
Me too, Barbie.
Me too.
So long,
Farewell.
It’s time to say goodbye.
Goodbye.
I had been in labor for 37 hours when my mom entered the room and walked straight to my husband, with a breakfast sandwich, exclaiming, “You must be so tired.”
My husband was so confused.
She had not acknowledged me or the baby.
And I guess that’s what I want people to know.
Privilege comes in many forms.
Imagine sand.
Some of us build from a deeper hole.
And yet, we’re on the same team.
Friendship break-ups are the worst.
I’ve been having this conversation with one of my daughters on the reg lately.
Listening to podcasts, reading books.
Explaining that I’m thrice her age and still figuring it out myself.
Suddenly, your people aren’t your people anymore.
What’s a girl to do?
Find new people.
She didn’t want to walk with me.
She wanted to walk with her friends.
It was the last day we would ever walk to school together but she couldn’t possibly understand the magnitude of that.
I’ve read, listened and discussed it all. I’ve even lived these tween years but yet, here I am, still in shock that it’s actually happening.
My first born, off to middle school.
Such a small transition compared to when she crawled, walked and first went to preschool.
And yet, it hits different.
Can we have just one more day?
New Leaf Parenting 