The plan is to live long. I’m definitely in the mid life range, according to life expectancy. And after moving in my early thirties, with my husband and two children, across the country, that is when my LIFE began. Until then, I had not explored the depths of me, I was in shallow waters. And I actually thought I understood myself at least a tiny bit. I didn’t.
Lots more therapy and lots more grace.
Who I was began to leave me as soon as I left. Fast forward seven years and this is where I am. I needed to go deeper. I had to learn to tread water. I had to keep my head afloat until I got stronger. I’d go further and further until I reached a floor. Ha, this metaphor is kinda cool.
I needed to understand my why’s. Why did I do this or that? My parenting style. Why I had chosen my partner? Why I’m so hard on myself? You get it. The unlearning of all the shits. The clarity of what I wanted out of life.
It’s been messy.
Things are definitely shaken up; they have been for a while. The truth is that I wasn’t a “green” girl anymore. I understood autonomy. I understand choice. We all have a choice! Even when the odds are stacked up against us, we can choose. That hasn’t always been the case. My mom had less choices than me and her mother had less choices than her.
So, the awareness of my newfound ability took some adjusting (I’m still adjusting). Fine tuning my strings, learning to assert myself.
It’s been a rocky journey.
Sometimes I’ve been to forceful, sometimes I’ve coward away from the uncomfortable, sometimes I’ve been too needy, and sometimes, I get it right. I’m heard, seen and understood. What a feeling!
Saying NO!
It gets lonely. Isolating even.
Calls from telemarketers are the highlight. The same three familiar names in my call log. Conscious of what all this means. Even now, I’ll take it. I have to just be. Do nothing. Experience the outcome of my lack. When I stopped, people stopped. Stuff stopped. How jarring to understand that it’s all been orchestrated.
So, I’m sitting in it now. Feeling my feelings. Accepting what it is because “it” wasn’t what I thought it was anyway.
Be Kind to YourSelf
Something About Stephanie 