If I'm going to be a more real version of myself as I discussed the other day then I need to confront the mirror. I have to be honest, but not harsh and figure out who I am. I was lucky enough to be reminded by an old friend that at my core I am good person, a good friend and a good listener.
This is one of the most challenging tasks that I have set upon myself.
I look at myself and see a short, curvy Italian girl with a mess of curls and hazel eyes. Catch me on a good day and you'll find the gold in my eyes. I'm one who has had to train herself not to talk so much with her hands and gesture less.
I am one who has intense emotions, and I struggle to realize that not everyone feels things as deeply as I do. I will love you fiercely and strongly. I will fight for you before I fight for myself. And it's not because I'm not important, but because I want you to succeed. I will empathize with your situations and feel your pain with you.
I am moved by words and songs. Music can bring me to tears, and so can words. Happy tears and sad tears are a part of my life. It doesn't mean that I am crier, but it goes back to my intense emotions.
I am one determined woman. Tell me I can't, and I'll do my best to prove you wrong. What I may lack I will put forth in my drive to succeed and excel. You will NOT hold me back. This part of me is challenging to write about as it was such a core part of me that went into hiding for a few years. I have spent the summer bringing it back out and I am sure that the reemergence of this has helped ground me.
I am one who looks for the best in everyone. I don't always look for the best in every situation, but I try. I'm not a Pollyanna, but I've been making a conscious effort to not be the downer that I was over the past few years.
I am a caretaker. I enjoy taking care of people, but I do it with such intensity that it can burn me out. And because of my intensity I expect others to be able to care for me with similar intensity in return. I don't want to "fix" you, but help you mend yourself.
I am a mother. I have 4 amazing children who are my world.
I am a runner.
I am a pediatric physical therapist and certified Epic Clinical Builder.
I am a Doctor of Philosophy with a specialty in Rehabilitation Sciences.
I am a survivor.
Wednesday, October 10, 2018
Monday, October 8, 2018
"Love belongs with belonging" ~Brené Brown
First off, the title of this post is a direct quote from Brené Brown's book The Gifts of Imperfection. I have started this book at least twice before and never made it past the first chapter or 2. It brought me to tears and made me so raw and uncomfortable that I put it down, vowing I would get back to it. After this summer of growth and a desire to keep growing it has been on my list to start again. A few weeks ago I picked it up and read the first 2 chapters. Did it hurt? Yes. Was I able to process her writing? Yes, which was a first for me.
This morning I picked up the book again and vowed to make it through another chapter. This chapter is about Love and Belonging. I won't delve into it, you need to get the book. But throughout the chapter she stresses that love and belonging belong together, and that belonging is different than fitting in. I had an epiphany, realizing that I have spent a large portion of my adult life working on fitting in, but not belonging. I can "fit" into many situations, I attribute this to the very different life experiences I had growing up. I can chameleon myself into a specific version of me. And truth be told it's uncomfortable at times. Always hiding, changing, evolving into this other version of me. I will never forget in grad school being told by my advisor to tone down my "yankeeness" and rely more on my "Texas roots." In response to that I do believe that I ended up playing up my northernness more because that's who I felt I was at that time. But really? I'm a combination of NorthEast girl with some Texan tendencies.
Luckily, this summer on that fateful first trip to Madison I found me. That raw, real me. The one who can be snarky and sweet, but also fierce and loving. The woman who still mails handwritten letters to friends, delivers homemade applesauce to deserving friends, would drive 2 hours to see you and who loves her kids fiercely with all her heart. I got to be me on that trip and it was freeing. I wasn't a mom, a partner or any other role but me. In fact, my dear friend that I made in Madison pointed out to me as I complained about wearing multiple hats (roles) that they're just hats and I can get rid of them easily and just be me. He was lucky enough to see that raw, vulnerable me in Madison and remind me later of who I am. I'm sure this is a reason that we are still friends despite the distance the short time we spent together. He accepted the raw me and loved me (as a friend) as I was.
So how do I become that raw vulnerable me here in my everyday life? It is something I am going to have to work at. It's so easy to slip into our roles: mom, coach, therapist, analyst, friend, etc. I will have to practice being me; raw, vulnerable me in each of these roles. It will not be easy, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me to let that vulnerability out, but I will not hide. I have hidden so much of myself, especially the last 3 years, that this might be one of the most important undertakings. In recognizing myself and practicing living as me, I know that I will experience that true belonging I have been lacking.
This morning I picked up the book again and vowed to make it through another chapter. This chapter is about Love and Belonging. I won't delve into it, you need to get the book. But throughout the chapter she stresses that love and belonging belong together, and that belonging is different than fitting in. I had an epiphany, realizing that I have spent a large portion of my adult life working on fitting in, but not belonging. I can "fit" into many situations, I attribute this to the very different life experiences I had growing up. I can chameleon myself into a specific version of me. And truth be told it's uncomfortable at times. Always hiding, changing, evolving into this other version of me. I will never forget in grad school being told by my advisor to tone down my "yankeeness" and rely more on my "Texas roots." In response to that I do believe that I ended up playing up my northernness more because that's who I felt I was at that time. But really? I'm a combination of NorthEast girl with some Texan tendencies.
Luckily, this summer on that fateful first trip to Madison I found me. That raw, real me. The one who can be snarky and sweet, but also fierce and loving. The woman who still mails handwritten letters to friends, delivers homemade applesauce to deserving friends, would drive 2 hours to see you and who loves her kids fiercely with all her heart. I got to be me on that trip and it was freeing. I wasn't a mom, a partner or any other role but me. In fact, my dear friend that I made in Madison pointed out to me as I complained about wearing multiple hats (roles) that they're just hats and I can get rid of them easily and just be me. He was lucky enough to see that raw, vulnerable me in Madison and remind me later of who I am. I'm sure this is a reason that we are still friends despite the distance the short time we spent together. He accepted the raw me and loved me (as a friend) as I was.
So how do I become that raw vulnerable me here in my everyday life? It is something I am going to have to work at. It's so easy to slip into our roles: mom, coach, therapist, analyst, friend, etc. I will have to practice being me; raw, vulnerable me in each of these roles. It will not be easy, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me to let that vulnerability out, but I will not hide. I have hidden so much of myself, especially the last 3 years, that this might be one of the most important undertakings. In recognizing myself and practicing living as me, I know that I will experience that true belonging I have been lacking.
Sunday, October 7, 2018
Faith
I have posted a lot about the emotional changes that I have experienced with my divorce, but I haven't ever really addressed the spiritual changes. I keep my spirituality fairly close to me and it's not something I share about often, but it has been an interesting part of this journey. One of my largest fears was having to tell my pastor that I was getting a divorce. I expected judgement, and possibly harsh treatment, but I was met with the complete opposite: Love and Compassion. He told me he had been praying for a different outcome, but that he (and the church) would support me and my kids in any way possible. I was floored, in fact I believe I started crying in the middle of our meeting. It was so many months ago at this point I don't remember the details. But I will remember the love, compassion and his statement that God wanted me to be happy, that I was created to be happy. It was more than I could have imagined and filled me with love that I desperately needed at the time. In fact, my pastor connected me with two other women also going through a divorce in our church. We have become a small local support system to each other in this storm that is divorce.
Personally, I have struggled with attending church. While my faith has not truly wavered, it has been tested. I would sit in church and hold back the tears watching the families. Or there was the time I inadvertently attended the mass for engaged couples. It took all of my strength and courage to not walk out; to sit there and listen to their love and blessings and know that I no longer had that. It was crushing. I didn't want to return to church for weeks following, but I did for my kids. They have watched me sit and sniffle and wipe at my eyes as we pray and sing in church. I have sat and listened to sermons about the joys and special thing that is marriage and contained myself from crying or walking out. I have listened to the cute little old ladies of the church invite me to marriage encounters and I smile and say I'm getting divorced. Their poor faces say it all, pity and confusion.
I have sat in church unable to contain the tears, and eventually excuse myself for a few minutes. Let me tell you the looks I got leaving 4 kids sitting in a pew as I walk out with tears streaming down my face. It's never one particular thing that may trigger the tears, but sometimes it's just this overwhelming emotion that I can't contain. It's heartbreaking to sit in a pew and cry silently while being surrounded by your loving children and have one of them keep looking at you with this confused face. Even today, listening to the readings about God making Eve from Adam's rib and new testament stories about divorce and remarriage and adultery hurt and brought me close to tears. But a few deep breaths and a focus on my kids and my tracing my tattoo and all was as well as it could be.
I have been blessed to have part of my faith renewed this summer. As you all are aware I made multiple trips to Madison, WI and on that first trip I was seized with a strong desire to pray. If I'm totally honest I was never a daily prayer kind of person, other than at the dinner table. I prayed at times, but since that first trip it has become almost a daily part of my bedtime routine. I give thanks for the blessings I have, ask for blessings on my friends and family, and do my best to single out specific people that have made an impact in my life. I'm sure some of you may be able guess who they are if you know me personally. I pray for continued faith and strength and for healing.
It doesn't mean that some days aren't more challenging than others, and it certainly doesn't mean that there are times that I want to yell and scream Why Me? In fact I've been know to ask many times in my nightly prayers, but as I write in my journal often, I just need to have faith and patience. The faith is usually there, patience not as much. And maybe, it's not so much of patience as it is courage. I never feel like I have enough courage, it's always in short supply. But that's the beauty of faith, believing that I will receive the courage and patience when I most need it. This divorce journey has changed me in so many areas, and been a process of self discovery, but I never imagined it would make my faith grow.
Personally, I have struggled with attending church. While my faith has not truly wavered, it has been tested. I would sit in church and hold back the tears watching the families. Or there was the time I inadvertently attended the mass for engaged couples. It took all of my strength and courage to not walk out; to sit there and listen to their love and blessings and know that I no longer had that. It was crushing. I didn't want to return to church for weeks following, but I did for my kids. They have watched me sit and sniffle and wipe at my eyes as we pray and sing in church. I have sat and listened to sermons about the joys and special thing that is marriage and contained myself from crying or walking out. I have listened to the cute little old ladies of the church invite me to marriage encounters and I smile and say I'm getting divorced. Their poor faces say it all, pity and confusion.
I have sat in church unable to contain the tears, and eventually excuse myself for a few minutes. Let me tell you the looks I got leaving 4 kids sitting in a pew as I walk out with tears streaming down my face. It's never one particular thing that may trigger the tears, but sometimes it's just this overwhelming emotion that I can't contain. It's heartbreaking to sit in a pew and cry silently while being surrounded by your loving children and have one of them keep looking at you with this confused face. Even today, listening to the readings about God making Eve from Adam's rib and new testament stories about divorce and remarriage and adultery hurt and brought me close to tears. But a few deep breaths and a focus on my kids and my tracing my tattoo and all was as well as it could be.
I have been blessed to have part of my faith renewed this summer. As you all are aware I made multiple trips to Madison, WI and on that first trip I was seized with a strong desire to pray. If I'm totally honest I was never a daily prayer kind of person, other than at the dinner table. I prayed at times, but since that first trip it has become almost a daily part of my bedtime routine. I give thanks for the blessings I have, ask for blessings on my friends and family, and do my best to single out specific people that have made an impact in my life. I'm sure some of you may be able guess who they are if you know me personally. I pray for continued faith and strength and for healing.
It doesn't mean that some days aren't more challenging than others, and it certainly doesn't mean that there are times that I want to yell and scream Why Me? In fact I've been know to ask many times in my nightly prayers, but as I write in my journal often, I just need to have faith and patience. The faith is usually there, patience not as much. And maybe, it's not so much of patience as it is courage. I never feel like I have enough courage, it's always in short supply. But that's the beauty of faith, believing that I will receive the courage and patience when I most need it. This divorce journey has changed me in so many areas, and been a process of self discovery, but I never imagined it would make my faith grow.
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