Posts Tagged With: learning to grow

things are just things

Y’all know Thing 1 and her family will be living in our house for a few months starting some time in July.
Y’all know YBW and I are eager to purchase and move into that townhouse.
The first of these will cause a change in the way we live in this house.
The second how we live in our new house.

This got me thinking about how I currently live in this house, how I want to live my remaining time in this house, and how I want to live in the new house.
Not how YBW and I live together. Those things must be decided by us as a unit.
I’m thinking how I want to live and what that means for me as a member of our household.

This thought process has been somewhat active as we begin to make preparations, but hatched into actual thoughts when I sent a photo to Thing 1 and Thing 2 asking if either of them had any interest in this item.

The story is my great aunt made this lamp for me. I don’t know when, but I do know I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t in my bedroom.
This Raggedy Ann lamp is a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but I don’t have any strong feels about it.
Thing 1 remarked that it’s one of those things that just stuck around.
The more I considered this, the more I realized that’s not a mindful way to live. At least I feel that way now about how I want to live.
Of late, I’ve worried that it may seem as though, and sometimes even feels like I’m just purging to purge, but I’m actually being super mindful about the way I want to live.
And what I surround myself with.
And what I leave behind needs to be the truest representation of the me I am (was?), and be simple for my daughters to handle.

I have this feeling it’s like shedding skin…
Or some sort of evolutionary process…
Leaving behind who you were in a mindful and respectful way and making room to become the next version of you…?

This is the last year of my forties, a natural phase of evolution as we get ready for a decade change. As I look at my life, I see how much my surroundings impact the way I live. By going through my things in a respectfully mindful way, I can prepare and environment that will meet my needs. Living my intention. Thriving in an environment that gives me everything I need with the bonus of things that foster learning and creativity. An environment in which I have enough room and the proper tools to grow into the next version of me.

Even though this lamp has been in my life as long as I can remember I don’t have any real feels about it.
Lack of feels is a strong indication that I don’t need it in my life which obviously means there’s no place for it in my house.
Purging to purge isn’t always healthy.
But being mindful about how I curate my environment is incredibly healthy.

My mom was not full blown horder, but she was sure as hell a packrat. What I’ve learned about her since she’s been gone is that she saved things to fill emotional emptiness. By simply having these things she could feel the feels she didn’t have inside her.
She saved things that meant something because of the feels they evoked in her. Feels she couldn’t experience any other way.
My ex husband is exactly the same.
There is something about possessing particular items that provides some sort of emotion they otherwise lack (lacked). I truly believe it reinforces their stunted emotional growth. Then the weight of the things traps (trapped) them, so there’s no room to learn, or create, or grow.

I understand having great big feels about certain items. For me, a specific example of this is my Grandaddy’s wallet. It is of absolutely no use to me, but the feelings that bubble up in me when I hold it make it worth keeping.
But that is one particular item that is in a special place in my bookshelf that I can go to when I want to feel the intensity of those feels.
It doesn’t impact the way I live. It doesn’t block creativity or inhibit learning. It doesn’t waste space. It doesn’t keep me from growing as a human.
And I know as I write this that there will come a point in time I’ll be willing to let it go. Today is not that time.

I can’t be trapped by possessions. I need freedom to move. If I can’t move, I can’t grow.
I need to grow!
I want to evolve in my relationships with my friends.
I want to evolve in my relationships with my daughters.
I want to evolve with my granddaughter as she builds relationships.
I want to evolve in my relationship with my precious husband.

Things are just things.
At this stage of my life, my main focus is to curate my surroundings in a way that helps me thrive. Living my intention, learning and creating, and growing into the next version of me gives me all the feels.

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IWotB 2020 edition ~ day seven

Today is the last day of International Week of the Birthday.
Even during this strangest of times, when everything is different and we’re all a bit fearful, I feel celebrated. Part of that is me just being me. I love birthdays! The day you came into the world is the most precious and sacred event and should be celebrated to the nth degree!
Earlier this week I wondered perhaps a grown woman shouldn’t be as excited about celebrating her birthday as I am. But the more I considered it, the more I realized who else should celebrate the anniversary of my birth more than me?
I’ve lived through every moment of my life. I’ve made it to this place where I can say, I’m forty nine years old and I am (for the most part) content with the me I am.
What’s more cause for celebration than that?

I’m not exactly the me I intended. In many ways I’m so much more! In other ways I see room for improvement. But I celebrate that too!
I am this me, and can continue my work to become an even more me.

This post didn’t go the way I expected when I began, but I quite love where it lead us.
Even though IWotB is ending today, I’m going to keep celebrating my me. The me I was. The me I am. The me I work to become. Because each version of me did, and will continue to live my intention, learn and grow, suffer and backslide, experience love, and loss, and I will celebrate every moment with joy and gratitude! I choose to celebrate the good, bad, ugly, and indifferent, because they created the me I am today. And I’m worth celebrating!
I encourage all y’all to celebrate your yous. The past, present, and future you. Celebrate becoming the you you long to be. Celebrate your you, I promise you’re worth it!

Crowley is my spirit animal

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Wait a minute! I’m a grown up?

I believe I’ve remarked before about how I sometimes don’t feel like a real adult…it could be that I haven’t written about it, but I know I’ve talked about it in day to day life.
Sure, I did do grown up things. Sure I had adult responsibilities, but I never really felt like a grown up. Not exactly “fake it till you make it”, more like “feelings follow actions”. So I acted like a grown up to the best of my ability.

The first time I officially felt like an adult was when Thing 2 was moved to the NICU. Sure I was already a mom, but I was a young mom and I was still growing up while I was being Thing 1’s mom.
The second time I felt like a proper adult was when I took my suicidal first born to the hospital. Leaving her there in on the adolescent mental health floor of the hospital was the hardest thing I’d ever done.

So far, both times I’ve considered myself a real adult involved leaving my babies in a hospital and going home without them.
Other things happen in life that make you feel like a real adult. Finding your first “real” full time job. Divorce comes to mind.
When my mother died, I didn’t have that feeling of being an adult. I think it was because I was experiencing shock and disbelief. I’ve since wondered if it’s because I was never treated like a grown up in my relationship with her.
The day my father died, I never felt more like a child but I’d never behaved more like an adult. Isn’t it curious how that works?

You know you’re an adult when people you know, respect, and love need important things from you. Help with children, support after a death in the family. A strong sounding board for the tough questions.
I was an adult when I stood in church surrounded by all the people I love most and pledged my life to YBW.
I was a grown up for my friend and mentor when her beloved died. And that realization just hit me.
Today, I did a real adult kind of thing when I had to write a recommendation letter for my friend in Arizona’s application to graduate school.

So it’s occurring to me the more I write this post that I really must be an adult.
It feels normal and natural, like the most comfortable article of clothing I own.
But I don’t always want to wear that, you know? Sometimes I want to wear impractical clothing…oftentimes in the form of shoes.
It feels like I’m still figuring out how to be a proper adult. It also feels like I’m still figuring out how to be me as an adult.
But the jokes on me, right?
I’m an adult.
And I don’t suck at it.
I guess I never realized that.
Perhaps I didn’t want to?
I’m not sure how I feel about this. And I guess that’s OK too. I can wear my grown up clothes, but put on my impractical non-adult shoes every now and then when I need to.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

a twisted desire to send a thank you note

Once there was a man that broke my heart.
When I say ‘broke my heart’, I mean he ripped out my heart while I watched. Then he stomped on it and kicked it into the corner where he left it for the dust bunnies.

In the aftermath, I was like a junkie without a fix. Shaking and wan, huddled in a ball. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I lost fifteen pounds and only left the house to go to work.

I was broken. I was absolutely pathetic. I believed I was completely unlovable. I was so far down the rabbit hole and I had no real desire to come out.

Then I met YBW. The first time we were together (after dating over the phone and via email and text for several months) he told me: I think I’m falling in love with you.
I didn’t know what to do with that. I wasn’t ready to say it to him. I was overwhelmed, but in a good way. In that moment I decided to trust him. To be completely open and ready for whatever we would experience together.

I would never have been ready to have YBW in my life if I hadn’t lived through that awful time. I would never have been able to trust him or expect him to trust me.

I thought briefly about the man that broke my heart earlier this week. He didn’t deserve me. I was a fool to share my heart. He knows what he’s missing. To be loved by me is unbelievably special. If he hadn’t convinced me that I was unlovable, I would never have been ready to love and be loved by YBW. I had to be dead empty before I could learn to love in an entirely new way.
I felt such gratitude. And a twisted desire to send a thank you note. (I didn’t and won’t.)

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