Are you seen?

Everyone tends to think that the 3 most important, most impactful words are "I love you" and while they are powerful and important I think there are 3 more that are even more critical: "I see you". For there are plenty of moments in your life where you are loved, but not seen, not recognized for who you are. When someone says they see you, it not only means they love you, but they recognize you for who you are. How many times have you been in a relationship of any form where you can feel the care and concern, but still not feel seen? Still be invisible?

When you are seen that other individual confirms your existence as you experience it. There is no questioning, just acceptance. A validation of you in that time and space. They see you, accept you and love you. It's a different experience than I love you. If you have someone in your life that sees you and tells you that they see you, you know that this person cares deeply about you. They understand that desire to be visible, accepted, and loved as you are. Too often I love you comes with the desire to change the person or with blinders. You are loved for an idea of who you are, not who you are at your core, an image. This is not false love, that individual does love you, they just don't necessarily see you. It could be because you don't let them see you, or they are unable to view beyond their own boundaries, regardless of the reason there is a difference in the love and being seen.

I have a small group of people that "see" me. There is no need to explain things, though I often do regardless. They see me, understand my desire to explain myself even when not necessary. They see me through the anxiety, remind me that I am me, not my anxiety. They love me, simply for who I am. They tell me I am seen. I am valuable. I am loved. To me, the distinction is important; I do not desire to be loved on a pedestal, I desire to be loved and accepted for who I am. I desire to be seen, accepted for me. Me, the woman, mother, coordinator, therapist, backpacker/hiker, writer, and coach. But most of all me, the soul in a human body. A survivor and thriver of life's experiences; one who is on a path to create a life less ordinary for herself and her children.

So I ask you, who in your life sees you?

This is 40

In the past few months I have come to acknowledge the power of 40. Forty is not the naive youth of your 20s, nor the growth and experiences of your 30s, but the acceptance of your own being and recognition of your own power. Each decade before brought it's own growth, challenges and joy, and while I expect that the 40s will do the same there is a unique magic to 40. It comes with a dread and becomes an adventure.

At 40, a single, divorced mom of 4, I am more grounded than I was in the previous years. This does not come from age alone, but the internal growth I have undergone. Forty means stepping into my power, acknowledging who I am and accepting who I am. It is seeing me for me, loving her, even the parts I would change, and showing her to the world with the statement "I am me." For at 40 I can see me, the woman with the hips that carried 4 children; legs that have run marathons, chased children and hiked countless miles; a belly marked with stripes from carrying children; and hazel eyes that have seen joy, destruction, beauty, pain, love, and hope.

I have spent much of my life fighting myself, never quite fitting in, using that as my shield and torch. I am setting down those props and embracing my uniqueness with love. I will never be the one who spends weekends with lifelong childhood friends, driving through a neighborhood I have lived all my life. Instead, I am the one who has childhood friends across the states, friends with whom I can stay at a moment's notice, picking up right where we need to, despite a decade apart. Friends in Texas, Michigan, Florida, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, to name a few. I will always have a unique tribe, and it's something I enjoy, and at 40 am embracing with love. In fighting myself I faced every challenge alone, refusing to allow help. When the world said it was nearly impossible to complete a task, I would tell the world to sit down and watch me. It was set as a gauntlet, a challenge, not from a place of love. And you all did- you watched me fight through earning my PhD with 4 kids and husband; you watched me struggle with a license, housing and finances; you watched me battle the anxiety that was here pre-divorce and in earnest post-divorce. Now, at 40, I see my mistakes, when the task is nearly impossible I can complete it alone, but I can share the burden. I can chose to go forth in love or in fear.

At 40, I chose to go forth in love.

This is 40:

• seeing the woman in the mirror and loving her crinkles at her eyes, the light in her eyes, and all the little imperfections
• understanding that accepting help does not make you weaker, but stronger
• learning that love comes in all forms
• following passion and dreams, not only for yourself, but to model to your children
• finding the rhythms of parenting 4 unique individuals and accepting that you are never going to have all the answers
• accepting the situation at hand and then changing what you can
• taking risks, refusing to let fear and anxiety dictate
• choosing a life less ordinary and crafting it
• finding the courage in large and small situations to express my opinion, needs and desires regardless of the outcome

At 40, I go forth in love.

A human connection

Did you know that nights and bedtime are the roughest?

It's facing night after night an empty room and an empty bed. You can typically find me stalling going to bed, staying up significantly later than I should be. I am texting a friend, sending messages or scrolling on Facebook or Instagram, just to get that human connection. There's no one here to reminisce about the day or just decompress. I am not saying that I am incapable of doing these things alone, but that I miss that human connection.

The point is that there are aspects of this journey that hit you everyday and while they are easier than at the beginning I have a daily reminder of the major difference in my life. There are nights that are certainly easier than others, but there is often no predicting what will happen when I turn out the light. A while ago I turned out the light and had a massive meltdown. I couldn't tell you what exactly set it off, but lots of tears later I was finally able to crash into sleep. I have moments in the evenings when I can just anticipate that my bedtime routine will be challenging and have learned to reach out to my friends. I am lucky enough that I have a few friends that are generally awake and willing to chat with me for practically hours on end.

This past Monday was shaping up to be one of those days. My anxiety was on the rise and I was dealing with emotional fallout from an encounter that morning. All day all I wanted was to be at home and be sad and process everything that was swirling within me. Sadly, single mom life called and there were what felt like a million errands to be run and a tight schedule to keep.

As the evening wore on I was exhausted and craving solitude, but around 9pm my phone rang. The number was one unknown to me, but based on the location appearing in the caller ID I had an idea who was calling, and I just couldn't pick up the phone. I was out of courage, exhausted and trying to wrap up my evening of chores and duties. The call went to voicemail and I felt guilt, big guilt about not answering. About 30 minutes later my phone rang again, same number, I gathered what remained of my courage and answered. Maybe you're wondering why I needed courage, but this was not an average phone call. I knew that this phone call had the potential to offer a life changing connection, and I was anxious. After a few moments of chatting my new friend and I were conversing like we had known each other for years and away fell my anxiety, fears, the stress of the day.  I am always in awe in the power of a human connection. That phone call was the reset that I needed to go to bed that night at peace.

At my core I believe in the power of human connections and healing nature of healthy connections. Not every human connection is a helpful one, and not all will heal, but when the magic of one appears you can't help but be changed. This specific connection has the additional magic of fueling my plans to a life less ordinary. Who knew that in an hour conversation with a person who was essentially a stranger at the beginning would create such magic and healing?

Memories on Repeat

How many of you play the shoulda, coulda, woulda game with yourself? You know the game where you replay those moments over and over and over again with how you would have done things differently? I have to admit that this game has been playing in my my head the past 2 days. It's one that I do not enjoy and one that triggers my anxiety and increases my anxiety. It's a rabbit hole of worry, worthiness and anxiety that can turn into a spiral of anxiety leaving me restless, unsettled and irritable.

Despite the game occurring in my head over the past 2 days I have been able to keep the majority of anxiety at bay. I don't know whether to be thankful that it is only a handful of memories that keep resurfacing or annoyed that I'm watching the same show on repeat. These moments are ones that are not necessarily pivotal in my life, but ones where a different statement from me may have made the situation have a different outcome. This is why I believe they are on repeat in my head, it's my way of dealing with the outcome of the situation that I have not yet healed from. I am working on accepting the choice I made in the moment and accepting the person that I was in that moment. And that my friends is a tough thing.

We all struggle on some level with acceptance of our imperfect selves. I have yet to meet an individual who 100% accepts their flaws and imperfections. Even the people that I know are so grounded and centered have something to which they have difficulty accepting. From our outward appearances to our mental health we all struggle. Personally, I struggle with this anxiety. It's there, a battle that I feel like I am constantly fighting, while at other moments I know it's lurking, hiding, waiting for me. I know it's the one thing that I would change about myself: I would heal the anxiety. Despite the lessons I've learned and growth that has come from it, it can be exhausting. I heal it a little bit everyday, but it's likely one of those things that will never 100% disappear. If I'm honest that bothers me, and I have to take a moment each day to make peace with that. Then there are days like the last few where I just can't make peace with it, playing the game and memories on repeat.

It will get better though, I do believe that. Faith and hope carry me through.