Some Honesty for Mother's Day

Invisible. Unseen. Unknown. Most days these are feelings that I think only apply to others, but occasionally, and almost always on Mother’s day, they apply to me. I LOVE my mother and the many women who have mothered me throughout my life. I’m grateful to see my family and friends with their families and wouldn’t take anything from them on this day of celebration. But I’ve finally decided to own the emotion I feel – I give myself permission.

As I face these emotions, and their causes vary case by case, but on this day it’s what I lack…the family I’ve always dreamed of (and I’m still working on the husband – the children are another thing entirely, but so wanted). When I share this sentiment I’m immediately bombarded with, “Oh, that day will come,” “You’re a mother now,” and “I know how you feel” (most frustratingly heard from people who were married and had children early in life). I know that day will come, eventually. I know and recognize my opportunity to mother children in my life and I don’t take that for granted; they all mean so much to me. I’m not even tackling the third one. I know people mean well, I do. But the day wears on and in general, if you don’t have children, people skip right by you. Invisible. Unseen. Unknown. Words go out the window.

I love listening to Al Fox Carraway and how she approaches prayer. She is real with Heavenly Father. No sugar coating. No blocking. No pretense. In the past, I’ve tried to hide my real emotions (which is totally stupid, I get it) because I was afraid of not being grateful, that by acknowledging my pain I was somehow disregarding all my blessings.

Today I made it to my car before I completely lost it (which is not to say there weren’t tears earlier in the day), and I mean completely. I probably should have pulled the car over as I was hyperventilating, my head was splitting in pain and I really couldn’t see straight (see, prayers are answered…I made it home safely). I was greeted by my dog who promptly demanded dinner and then I went to the couch, my head still splitting, my emotions getting the best of me. I start talking out loud - to no one - and I don’t stop. Tears are running down my face as I share every thought I have and, once again, I’m hyperventilating. I’m frustrated that no one is here to help me or reassure me; not a reassurance that these concerns will one day be “corrected,” but that I truly am seen and known. That I have value. That it’s okay to feel what I feel.

But I lay alone, my dog wiping (licking) the tears from my face. I start praying, I tell Heavenly Father everything I’ve just said. I tell him exactly what I’m feeling, how frustrated I am, how alone I feel. I ask that enough peace will come so my headache will go away. I don’t even ask for the heartache to leave – I can dwell in that. I can own that. 45 minutes pass and I realize I’m no longer crying. I start to take inventory and realize my headache is gone (both a miracle and tender mercy) and decide I can get up and make myself some dinner and prepare my seminary lesson. As I say another prayer, I thank Him that my head no longer hurts and then thank Him for all my blessings. I acknowledge all the good in my life, and there is SO MUCH GOOD, including a special visit from my favorite neighbor-girl – a major highlight of good in my life.

And here we are. There’s no change in circumstance, no prospect of change on the horizon, but I know who I am and more importantly, whose I am. I’m listening to a fireside for women on YouTube with a few of my favorite speakers (Al just spoke too, so that really lifted me up). I tune out when there is too much talk about being “mommy” because I’m just not there emotionally, yet. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week…one day soon this inadequacy will go unnoticed in myself again and I’ll smile, and it will be real. I choose to be firm, steadfast, and wait on the Lord. In the meantime - until all my dreams are realized, I will live life to the fullest. And one day, on a Mother’s day in the future perhaps, I’ll find myself at another keyboard writing and crying about the frustrations and trials of motherhood and reminiscing of the good old days when I only had my fur babies. Where the only person who leaves dishes in the sink, doesn’t put away the laundry, or sweep and mop the floor is me. Maybe one day.

Worth the Weight - Finale

I felt strongly that 2017 needed to be different for me. In years past my goals have been to go somewhere, do something, or try something new. There is certainly nothing wrong with that and I’ve enjoyed those things, but I felt a longing for something else; something more personal, more unseen, even less tangible. As I review my goals for 2017, without intending to do it I created goals that allow me to reflect, to meditate, to build my relationship with my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not entirely on track, but I’m trying.

As I’ve tried, I discovered some things:

I am NOT a number, on a scale or otherwise.

I am NOT beautiful because I’m a certain size, shape, or any other criteria.

I am NOT valued less because I struggle.

I AM a daughter of God.

I AM beautiful and valued because I am His.

As I try to accomplish these goals, the vision I have of myself continues to improve. I promise it’s not because I’ve lost weight or fit the mold the world has told me to try to embrace. I am not of this world, and neither are you. We are each divine beings having this mortal experience.

I know this will continue to be a journey. I will have good days and bad days as we all will. I will make positive choices, and hopefully they’ll outweigh the poor decisions or moments of weakness.

Though it has been a relatively short time on this journey, I am truly LOVING who I am now and I believe it is, in part, because I'm coming to know me as God knows me, and I Him. That's the most important relationship I can ever hope to have. And that, my friends, it really worth the wait.

Worth the Weight - Part 2

In August of 2015 I was preparing to fly to Utah to meet my nephew. This should have been a most joyous time but it was so hard! There had been some conflicts I was dealing with that weren’t helping the situation at all, but my internal struggle had come to a breaking point…and it was me who was breaking.

I’m an anxious/excited traveler; I like to pack a week (or at least several days) in advance. For this trip, it was the morning I was supposed to leave and I was still debating on whether to pull my suitcase out and actually leave. I had recently discovered the show “Girl Meets World”, the remake/spin off of “Boy Meets World”. I don’t know if it was simply because I loved BMW growing up, or if it was really as cute as I thought at the time, but I fell in love with this show.  On this day in particular I watched the episode where Riley had a bully. I laid on my bed watching this episode, bawling my eyes out as I listened to Riley repeat to Maya the things her bully had said to her. The tears weren’t for her…they were for me. Those were the things I had been telling myself. I was my own worst bully!

The things I was telling myself I would never say to anyone else. Then why was it okay for me? As I laid there in shocked realization, I made a decision that I would try to become my own biggest fan, rather than my own worst bully.

Knowing what I needed to do, and doing what I needed to do were two very different things. I would attempt to tell myself something positive, then follow it up with a negative behavior (enter binge eating…another side of the eating disorder spectrum). It would go something like this: “Your hair looks nice today” (something simple and that didn’t happen often), then I’d eat something and be out of control and berate myself for not doing better. It felt like every step forward I tried to make I’d sling shot backwards (forget the simple two steps back idea).

I felt trapped in my life, like the quest to find myself was wrapped only in appearance. I knew that wasn’t true, that the size of my waist or the number on the scale somehow defined who I was. So I set myself on a mission to discover the real me again. I tried setting myself up where I was when I started this journey – with a lot of positive, non-weight related goals. Really, when 2013 started I just wanted to walk 500 miles…losing weight, though I joined Weight Watchers and worked for it, was almost an accident. I tried this in both 2016 and already in 2017.

If you remember, I had a goal wall set up. I wanted a very visual way to track my accomplishments that year. Turns out, that isn’t me either, and I took the 2017 goal wall down.

Worth the Weight - Part 1

Vulnerability: the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.

The beauty of a blog is that you show only what you want to be seen. I've hid a lot, some because it doesn't need to be seen by the world (or by all three readers who may accidentally slip across this page), some because I didn't want to show my own weakness; I didn't want to be vulnerable.

Over the last year or so I've discovered material from Brene Brown on vulnerability. You can check out a video here. 

This, my friends, is me being vulnerable about the very topic that pushed me into shame. I'm nervous about being this open, but it's time. I need to do this for me. Because its going to be a rather long post, I'll break this up into a few segments.

Several years ago I documented my weight loss journey right here on this blog. In 2013 I lost a total of 50 pounds...and most of "me", or at least who I felt like I was.

It's kind of hard to explain unless you've been there. When my weight loss became really noticeable to others, it was as if everyone had something to say. There was quite a bit of positive feedback, and having people tell me I looked beautiful on a regular basis was nice...for a little while.

After several weeks, though, I began to wonder if no one ever thought I was beautiful before, that somehow it was only possible to be seen as such because I lost the weight. People wanted to know my "secret" (seriously, healthy diet and exercise). People wanted to hear what I'd changed. All of a sudden, people who had never spoken to me before were inviting themselves into my life...and I let them.

In January 2014 I had a total and complete breakdown. Without being overly dramatic, I was headed right to an eating disorder. On the outside I still looked as I had, but inside I was a shattered mess. I absolutely HATED myself. The worst part was that I put up walls around myself...I couldn't let anyone know what I was dealing with. I felt I was the only person who ever felt this way (reality check...not true)!

Over the next couple of years I would yo-yo with food intake, exercise level, weight gain/loss (mostly gain), and self-image. All of a sudden the only voices I could hear outside myself were people talking about how much weight they wanted to lose, how uncomfortable they felt, and bragging about how little they ate. These were women (and some men) I looked up to and admired them, not only for their looks but for their knowledge, experience, and wisdom. I wanted to be like them, but they, who I only ever dreamed of looking like, said they weren't good enough. Whatever positive self-image I had tried to regain slipped right back into obscurity. It would be impossible.

Change is Good

It's amazing what a little perspective can do. The house I bought is in different ward (what we call our local church congregation). When I moved to Georgia I was once again in the Waycross 1st Ward, the congregation of my childhood. While house hunting, I looked specifically at homes that would keep me in the ward, and able to attend church with my mom.

In April I suspended my search. There was nothing that I was falling in love with in the boundaries I had set. Then, two days later, a coworker asked if I was still looking to buy a house. She was planning to sell and looking for a buyer. The only hesitation I had was that it was in 2nd ward boundaries.

In spite of that, everything in this proposition just worked; it felt right! And it fell into place SO quickly. I had so many experiences in the time span of a few weeks that let me know I was making a right decision, to let go of fear, and trust the Lord. Truly, this has been the biggest blessing in my life.

We had a women's meeting last night and as I associated with these amazing women, I was once again filled with joy at the blessing they, and this move, have been in my life! I finally feel like I belong somewhere, something I really haven't felt in a few years. My friends and family in 1st ward are wonderful, but it was time for a change. In a time when I felt very alone and almost forsaken, Heavenly Father created this blessing for me specifically. I hope that I'm able to do a portion of good for someone else here as they are doing for me!

Embrace the change. Change is the only constant in life. And I'm beginning to learn that change is good!

Finding my Voice

I've been silent for a long time. I've been holding in many of my thoughts and feelings, knowing that by sharing any of them I open myself to feeling ALL of them, something I've been trying to avoid. A few times over the past couple of months the weight and pain have washed over me and I feel like I'm being pulled by a strong rip current to drown in these thoughts and feelings. A bit dramatic? Maybe (ok, totally), but I'm learning to respect and own my feelings. They are there for a reason.

I shared a particular story tied to these emotions with two different people in a scary but vulnerable moment. I NEEDED someone to know what I was feeling, to share that side of me. The first person reacted with questions as to the validity of my concerns, doubts that I should feel anything that I said I was feeling, and showed a surprising lack of understanding that I desperately needed. The second person listened openly and without judgement, she felt the weight of what I shared and did so without judging. I told her that I felt ridiculous to have these feelings regarding this incident (basically internalizing the responses from person number one), but she acknowledged the sense of pain/loss I was expressing and validated me.

It was interaction number two that helped me see that closing myself off to the feelings isn't the right answer, and it isn't healthy. Even now as I've accepted and am trying to own them, they wash over me with such force that I can't hardly control the tears that inevitably come. Because of person number two I don't feel broken or ashamed. I don't have the answers or reasons person number one suggested I needed, thoughts I had myself prior to sharing with her. The first conversation validated my personal fears; the second validated me.

That's what I needed, that's what we all need. To feel validated in spite of our fears. Nelson Mandela said to make our choices based on hope, not fear. I've been acting in a hopeful manner lately, trying to act in faith despite the pain. Because of person number two, I've started sharing again and I've started finding my voice.

While I have no intention of sharing the exact experience and cause of the pain I've been dealing with on this blog, I do hope to continue to use my voice as one of motivation, of encouragement, of hope. I want to once again read my own posts and feel joy as I once did. I want my testimony and the light of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which gives me hope, strength, and courage, to shine through my writing. There will be troubled waters ahead, but it is Him who will calm the sea and allow my voice to be heard, if only by me.

I'm Home

Well, little neglected blog, I'm here. I reread a previous post that eluded to a "big announcement", and for the life of me I couldn't remember what it was. Then I remembered:

I BOUGHT A HOUSE!!

It was, you know, a fairly significant happening in my life and then I promptly forgot to return and report! 

I've been home now since June and it is wonderful. For the first time in my life I've put down roots of my own. I'm here to stay...until it's time to go somewhere else (which I have no plans for now, I've just learned not to say never). For now, I'm right where I need to be and I feel so blessed.