I will never know myself until I do this on my own
And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed
I will never be anything till I break away from me
I will break away, I'll find myself today
And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed
I will never be anything till I break away from me
I will break away, I'll find myself today
five years ago, we went to court for custody of piper. it was the day that we told our families that we were pregnant with dade. and it was a day that i remember finally having some way to heal.
somehow, over the last five years, i've grown, and i've learned, and i've let go.
when piper was first born, the problems that were facing me had to be faced by me. really. it was a physical representation of the things that i had to either hold onto or put away or let go of.
i first found out that piper was conceived three weeks after my 25th birthday. and i found out later a lot more. i still carry some guilt about the hoops i made jay jump through in order to prove his dedication to me.
but here's the thing. i've finally learned to forgive myself for what he did. doesn't that sound stupid? why should i have to forgive myself for what he did? that doesn't make any sense. a blog that i read talks about "mommy guilt," and how that can lead to us shaming ourselves and letting ourselves implode with horrible thoughts of how we're not good enough, no matter what it is that we're doing.
the writer of the blog also talks, in her book, about how there are many people that we see from the outside and think, "boy, they've really got it all together."
sometimes i feel like that. and a huge part of it is that i know i've been incredibly blessed. i have a career that a woman wouldn't have had 150 years ago. i am a strong, independent woman. i'm a mother. i'm a wife. i'm someone's constant, being all of those things. i'm a sister, a daughter, a friend. and sometimes it's just exhausting to try to be perceived as having it all together.
the truth of the matter is that i don't have it all together. not at all. not even close. not even a little bit. well, maybe a little bit. i have friends ask me how it is that i can work/spend time with the kids/crochet/craft/deliver babies/work out/train for a 5K, etc, and still do all the other things.
my favorite thing to say is a quote from empire records..."there are 24 usable hours in every day."
the truth is, though, some days, those 24 hours are just not enough. and they are too long at the same time. and every hour is filled with something....all blessings, really. but they're all filled. and it's exhausting.
the thing is....that i have to remember....there are so many teeny things hidden in those hours, that if i don't slow down once in awhile and just lay on the couch, i wouldn't hear the way my kids play together. i wouldn't remember the way that my dog's tags jingle when she runs up the stairs. i wouldn't remember the smell of my son's hair after a shower when he collapses on me on that couch. i wouldn't remember the way my daughter says the lord's prayer. i wouldn't remember the sound of my husband's peaceful breathing when he's sleeping. and i wouldn't remember the feel of my heartbeat, thinking of these blessings.
i know now, versus five years ago, that i'm never going to be completely happy unless i'm going 500 miles an hour with my hair on fire. but the slowing down, the quiet in between the chaos, is my healing.
the healing i've done to this point has taught me not only about myself, but about what it means to be a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, and a Christian. every minute is full of things i should be grateful for, and i shouldn't let mommy guilt get in the way. mommy guilt, wife guilt, doctor guilt, sister guilt....it all comes from the same place. it comes from an insecurity in myself. an insecurity that should be let go of, and that truly shouldn't be dreaded but should be celebrated. i am what i am...i am what God made me. with all my imperfections, my quirks, my strengths, my weaknesses, my love of trashy magazines and linkin park, my obsession with skin care products and nail polish, and my comfort in sweatshirts and yoga pants.
the point to this whole thing is this: in whatever way i thought i was broken before, i think, it's a lie. i don't know that i was ever really broken. i lost a part of myself for awhile, but i think it's still in there. i think it's still inside me. i don't think i'm healing anymore, because i don't think i was completely broken to begin with. i was beaten, and weakened, but i never lost. the Big Guy didn't let me get that far gone.
and in the end, whilst not having it all together, i really do have it all. and i'm thankful for all that i've been blessed with. i feel my value in the kiss of my husband, the deviousness of my daughter's grin, and in the dimples of my son's smile. at the end of every day, it's us, holding hands, reminding each other that we'll never have to face things alone, the way i thought i had to do long ago.
but here's the thing. i've finally learned to forgive myself for what he did. doesn't that sound stupid? why should i have to forgive myself for what he did? that doesn't make any sense. a blog that i read talks about "mommy guilt," and how that can lead to us shaming ourselves and letting ourselves implode with horrible thoughts of how we're not good enough, no matter what it is that we're doing.
the writer of the blog also talks, in her book, about how there are many people that we see from the outside and think, "boy, they've really got it all together."
sometimes i feel like that. and a huge part of it is that i know i've been incredibly blessed. i have a career that a woman wouldn't have had 150 years ago. i am a strong, independent woman. i'm a mother. i'm a wife. i'm someone's constant, being all of those things. i'm a sister, a daughter, a friend. and sometimes it's just exhausting to try to be perceived as having it all together.
the truth of the matter is that i don't have it all together. not at all. not even close. not even a little bit. well, maybe a little bit. i have friends ask me how it is that i can work/spend time with the kids/crochet/craft/deliver babies/work out/train for a 5K, etc, and still do all the other things.
my favorite thing to say is a quote from empire records..."there are 24 usable hours in every day."
the truth is, though, some days, those 24 hours are just not enough. and they are too long at the same time. and every hour is filled with something....all blessings, really. but they're all filled. and it's exhausting.
the thing is....that i have to remember....there are so many teeny things hidden in those hours, that if i don't slow down once in awhile and just lay on the couch, i wouldn't hear the way my kids play together. i wouldn't remember the way that my dog's tags jingle when she runs up the stairs. i wouldn't remember the smell of my son's hair after a shower when he collapses on me on that couch. i wouldn't remember the way my daughter says the lord's prayer. i wouldn't remember the sound of my husband's peaceful breathing when he's sleeping. and i wouldn't remember the feel of my heartbeat, thinking of these blessings.
i know now, versus five years ago, that i'm never going to be completely happy unless i'm going 500 miles an hour with my hair on fire. but the slowing down, the quiet in between the chaos, is my healing.
the healing i've done to this point has taught me not only about myself, but about what it means to be a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, and a Christian. every minute is full of things i should be grateful for, and i shouldn't let mommy guilt get in the way. mommy guilt, wife guilt, doctor guilt, sister guilt....it all comes from the same place. it comes from an insecurity in myself. an insecurity that should be let go of, and that truly shouldn't be dreaded but should be celebrated. i am what i am...i am what God made me. with all my imperfections, my quirks, my strengths, my weaknesses, my love of trashy magazines and linkin park, my obsession with skin care products and nail polish, and my comfort in sweatshirts and yoga pants.
the point to this whole thing is this: in whatever way i thought i was broken before, i think, it's a lie. i don't know that i was ever really broken. i lost a part of myself for awhile, but i think it's still in there. i think it's still inside me. i don't think i'm healing anymore, because i don't think i was completely broken to begin with. i was beaten, and weakened, but i never lost. the Big Guy didn't let me get that far gone.
and in the end, whilst not having it all together, i really do have it all. and i'm thankful for all that i've been blessed with. i feel my value in the kiss of my husband, the deviousness of my daughter's grin, and in the dimples of my son's smile. at the end of every day, it's us, holding hands, reminding each other that we'll never have to face things alone, the way i thought i had to do long ago.
Wow! Very powerful! U r such a great person!
ReplyDeleteThis is wonderful. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI've "known" you for, what, 10 years, maybe longer, since you first got accepted to med school. You have come SO FAR and done SO MUCH, and it's been remarkable to watch.
I just wanted you to know that! :)