Unapologetic

I was recently asked what guilty pleasures I have. I replied that I refuse to feel guilty for anything much less what makes me happy. This got me thinking about what we so often hear about "giving zero fucks" and not caring. The truth is I do care, really so much that I get angry at myself. I actually give a lot of fucks. I appease others, apologize when I wasn't even wrong and stay small in ways that ultimately hurt me.

So what would it mean to live a fully unapologetic life? 

Now when I say unapologetic this doesn't mean never having to apologize for doing wrong. I'm quick to admit when my actions cause harm and say I'm sorry. This is about not apologizing for who I am, what I believe, what I love, the choices I make and how I live my life. I'm doing this in baby steps, small acts of bravery and each time I say "no" without explanation. 

At the heart of this is self acceptance. I see where I apologize for something about me, even internally, it's over something I don't like about myself and it serves as a way for others to take me down. We're told to "love yourself" with no path to guide us there. I'm still dismantling decades of Christian dogma saying that I was born a sinner, broken and unacceptable by their God. I have a lifetime of criticism for being too loud, too obnoxious and way too much. I remember as a teenager cutting myself down as a way to get compliments. Sure there was some affirmation but what it ultimately did was seal in my heart that I didn't feel I'd ever be enough. 

So when the comments come, or the rejection, it still hurts me. But I'm finally in a place of bouncing back faster and stronger. Because do I want to be like everyone else? No! I spent decades trying to live within a construct that was suffocating me. Every day, little by little, I'm walking towards my personal freedom. Fully unapologetic. 

Speaking up for myself

When you meet me I come off as loud-mouthed, extroverted, opinionated and a bit of a bad ass. This is definitely the persona I mostly like but all is not as it may appear. I am all these things and speak out for others without a second thought, but when it comes to myself I'm much more of a coward. I cringed as I typed the word "coward", as I didn't see that coming yet it's true. I fear speaking out for myself as I'm scared of what may be said back to me. I am scared of criticism. I don't like conflict that's about me. Attempting to speak up for myself can paralyze me.

So speaking up, speaking out and demanding respect has been a current goal. 

So how did I wind up here? 

As a child I spoke up for myself all the time. I was the oldest with two younger brothers and would rage at any injustice to me. And there were many. Growing up Evangelical Christian meant a set of expectations were on me being female that my brothers didn't have to abide by. And frankly everything about me was what I wasn't supposed to be. (I feel like I've told this story before but it's relevant to the post.) Once my father and I were in a heated battle with my brothers looking on. We were going head to head batting bible verses back and forth as we both tried to prove ourselves right. I was spanked for not knowing verses, and expected to know extremely long passages at a young age, so even with my father's doctorate in ministry, he still wasn't a match for me. At one point it hit me that I'd never be heard. I sat back, laughing, and said, "You know what, Dad? You love that I'm this way. Only you wanted this in your sons but not your daughter." He said, "Yep!" I said, "It sucks to be you then!" 

While I back down in friendships, even when hurt, the worst of it is when it involves male attention. Yes, all the Daddy issues. I see myself get repeatedly disrespected in various ways and I stay silent. If I speak up then I'm a bitch, right? They might say something that hurts my feelings if I call them out. So why do I care? Why do I still want their acceptance? (yeah, I said it, and I hate it) 

I feel like at the core of this is a fear of loss. If I tell a friend their actions weren't kind then they might not be my friend. If I tell a date that his behavior isn't respectful and I don't appreciate it, then he'll go away. Be glad they're gone, right?! Yet I feel tears welling up at the thought of losing more. I look at my life and see loss after loss. 

I find myself in this continual push pull of trying to fit in, trying to be what's expected of me, trying to like what others like, and be into the things we're told should make us happy. Yet I'm not like that. I find so often people talk about how they are "weird" and I think of how they are actually so normal and boring. I can sit in a corporate meeting and be appropriate, and I'm not weird in the wild creative artist way, but I'm just eccentric enough to feel on the outside. 

Yet I am speaking up through a trembling voice (thankfully not seen through text) and with my head held high. And I've met amazing new people who are supporting me and uplifting me and letting me feel it's OK to be me. Possibly, just maybe, my calling and life isn't to have a tribe by my side but to show how to do it alone (with a few cheerleaders on the sidelines).

I wish someone would have told me

I wish someone would have told me it's not my fault.

I wish someone would have told me I'm not a sinner.

I wish someone would have told me mistakes are OK.

I wish someone would have told me not to believe everyone.

I wish someone would have told me it will end.

I wish someone would have told me their opinions don't matter.

I wish someone would have told me I'm enough as I am.

I wish someone would have told me I could have said No.

I wish someone would have told me I'm not to blame for saying nothing.

I wish someone would have told me I can own my truth.

I wish someone would have told me you can't save anyone.

I wish someone would have told me some people are evil.

I wish someone would have told me fairy tales aren't real.

I wish someone would have told me you make your own happiness.

I wish someone had told me you don't have to forgive.

I wish someone had told me you will never find some answers to some questions.

I wish someone had told me I would survive.

I wish someone had told me to observe.

I wish someone had told me I could withstand the pain.

I wish someone had told me I'm allowed.

I wish someone had told me I don't have to shrink.

I wish someone had told me to turn it all the way up.

I wish someone had told me we're all lost in our stories.

I wish someone had told me I have all the power.

So I told myself...

Pretty

"How's my pretty girl this morning?" were the words I woke up to one day from the man I was dating. I melted. I cried. I struggled to breathe. The word "pretty" has always been elusive and hurtful for me. I wasn't told I was pretty growing up. My father made sure I was well aware of where my level of beauty stood in his eyes, lacking, and it cut me to the core. Sure I'd get the occasional "cute" but "pretty" felt out of my grasp and impossible. While that text sent me into an orbit of elation and happiness he never said it again. After I'd gushed about how happy it made me, it felt as if I'd instead been teased with what I'd so desperately wanted and crushed.

Sure beauty is fleeting and in no way to measure of how wonderful of a human you are, but when you've never been the pretty one there is a special sting that can take you from self worth to humiliation in a blink. Once I was at a friend's house and there were about 4 other girls there, we were in our teens and her father started commenting to each girl about how she could be a model, and then he got to me and stopped talking. Now I certainly knew I wasn't model material but tears will still well up for me when I recall my little 14 year old self locking my jaw and holding back the sobs. Not pretty.

Interestingly enough I've aged decently well (genetics and great face cream) and my ex-husband (we were married at this time) once said that I'd gotten much better looking with age. Sort of a compliment with a side of shit thrown in the face. Single now and dating I find I get the "sexy" compliment all day long. Who doesn't want to be told they are sexy? Sure I do, but yet when I hear it I mostly don't hear "pretty". 

Katie Makkai did a spoken word piece years ago that I've listened to at least twice a year. It has been viewed 3,714,425 times showing I'm not the only one needing to hear it. She ends with what I aspire to be, what I want to want, and hating that this one fucking word can ruin a grown ass woman such as myself.  She says, "The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be and no child of mine will be contained in five letters. You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing. But you will never be merely pretty".

Fuck pretty. Do I still want to be pretty? Yeah...

Setting the stage for the coming year

It's said that "When you no longer care what other people think of you, you have reached freedom. Life truly begins the moment you realize you don't have to prove anything to anyone but yourself." 

I woke up feeling great today! It's my birthday, and on this day feeling happy would be hopefully expected, but this is different. I don't recall ever feeling like this. After decades of trauma, hopelessness, depression and fear, it's like I'm breathing new air. I wrote about this in my journal this morning and was reminded that this feeling didn't come out of nowhere, I've fought with everything in me for this moment. 

I want this vibe to set the stage for my coming year. But I feel some reflection on the last year is necessary as that got me to where I am today. Mistakes were made; some in love, some in fear, some in disbelief. I learned who I am and more importantly who I'm not. At times I owned my truth and in others I got small to avoid conflict. I lost a lot. My resilience, my tenacity and my willpower pushed me forward when I felt immobile. I had some of the best and worst times of my life, and I needed it all to be where I am now.

This coming year I have huge personal goals. I'm mapping out timelines and plans for what I want to write. I'm taking a hard look at my health and seeing where tweaks need to be made. I am owning all my power. The scariest one of all is my intention to get brutally honest in my writing about my life, my past and everything I am. 

Melissa Catherine posted this on Facebook and it resonated hard:
Walk right up to the thing inducing fear. Command what you desire. Stand still in the chaos. Surrender to the outcome.

This is what I'm manifesting.

Keep my side of the street clean

While I typically write these quickly and in a stream of consciousness, this one already feels a bit disjointed as I attempt to explain while also keeping out some details to protect the innocent and the guilty. I find myself in a bit of a conundrum about a few situations, though separate, that intersect in ways that don't give me comfort and peace. Thinking about how I hold myself accountable, where I might need to apologize, and where I'm taking responsibility that isn't mine.

Of the many ways we mature in life I feel self awareness should arguably be on top of them all. And beyond that self awareness of why we do what we do, there needs to be the next level of seeing what needs to change and actively working on making those changes. It's taken many years but I do feel my own introspection is good. I can graphically detail for you why I react the way I do, what I've changed and where I still need work. Though I'm the queen of the self help book I will say that the bulk of my understanding of myself came from the painful (though powerful) 12 steps started in AA. I was in Eating Disorders Anonymous for many years, they use the same steps, and worked diligently to "get to the other side". If you can let go of the higher power talk (unless that's your jam) I do believe these steps are a great assistance in self work.

It's important to me to keep my side of the street clean. When I've wronged someone I'll admit it and make it right as best I can. Yet in this desire to feel I've been accountable, I can also spiral when I hear I've been lied about or portrayed in any false way. The first time I recall getting livid about being slandered was when my parents were divorcing. I was 15 years old, my mother had left my father and the rumors were flying about what "the pastor's wife" had done. Because I chose to live with her I got grouped into the malicious things being said. The worst of which was that my mother and I were hookers (I'd never had sex) and I was a coke addict (hadn't done coke). When I heard this my only retort was "Well at least pick the drugs I'm on!" (I smoked pot). It was out there, and being expanded upon with each person on the gossip train, and I had nowhere to prove myself. 

There is someone I'm considering apologizing to, though I didn't actually do anything to harm them. But I feel they should hear that from ignoring their advice, I paid a price. So not "I'm sorry" so much as a human acknowledgement of the truth of a situation. My hesitation comes because their response back to me has the strong possibility of being unkind. The 9th step says, "Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others." I frequently joked with my sponsor that I didn't want to be the one injured. She said that didn't count. I say it does.

While not following any religion I do believe strongly in karma. You cannot carry on a lifetime of lies and shitting on people to not have it come back around one day. My belief in karma stops me many times when my impulsive self wants to lash out. I've learned silence is a statement. Slowly learning through my yoga and meditation practices to be non-reactive. Learning being the key word here as I can get snarky, punchy and ready to rumble in a hot second. 

Are we giving grace to each other for our failings? Are we perhaps allowing too much and not setting boundaries? Are we completely stagnant in our growth, angry and throwing around blame? (I sure did that for a long time.) Are we assuming others aren't diligently working on themselves because we expect their progress to be faster or we aren't seeing the actions they are taking? While trying to be a loving kind person I'm also guilty of all of this. We're all works in progress flying on this rock through space just trying to figure it all out. 

Rumi said, "Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames." My life is on fire in the best of ways. I'm burning away that which does not serve me. I'm surrounding myself with people who support me, cheer me on and believe in me. I've never said this before but I'm saying it now...The best is yet to come.

My Superpower

A friend told me years ago that my empathy was my superpower after listening to me drone on about how it gets me in trouble. Both are true. Along with being a raging empath one of my archetypes is savior. According to the blog PeopleSkillsDecoded.com, the savior complex can be best defined as “A psychological construct which makes a person feel the need to save other people. This person has a strong tendency to seek people who desperately need help and to assist them, often sacrificing their own needs for these people.” Totally me. 

I'm naturally a helper (though we could certainly have a discussion about being raised in Evangelical Christianity and the serving expectations put on women). My empathy won't allow me to look away when someone is in need. Now when I lead charity and community work teams at various companies these traits of mine were exactly what was needed. I believe giving of your resources and time, especially when you already have so much, is something everyone should do (and admittedly I can get pretty judgmental about this when I hear you professing a religion or belief that is all about sacrifice, giving and help and you don't do it).

But every superpower has a dark side and mine is giving too much with the belief that I'll save someone. I allow my boundaries to be obliterated, I make excuses for bad behavior, I keep hope when there never was hope. This makes me easily manipulated and a target for people who care only about themselves. I frequently get confused when I'm lied to as I can't fathom doing that to another person. I've had friends roll their eyes and say, "Why did you believe that?!" And the answer is that it doesn't occur to me not to.

My empathy really is my superpower though as I learn how to properly use it. It allows me to tune into what others are feeling and know where they are hurting. It shows me what's not being said. When I'm listening to my instincts, and not drowning in savior mode, I do know when I'm being lied to (yet I'll many times allow what I know are lies with the belief I'll save them from that too).

My superpower is what will ultimately save me.

Messy

So I decided I'm a painter. And by painter I mean I swirl colors I like on a canvas in odd ways until I feel  happy. If you're a fan of Julia Cameron (and I feel everyone should read and go through the lessons in her book "The Artist's Way") she says we're all artists and we all should tap into that creativity without the need to do anything more than give us back the delight that life told us we needed to stuff down. Though I know my "art" is a hot mess I do still enjoy it because it expresses my feelings of the moment in a way that my words sometimes can't. 

I'm a person that visualizes best in color. My Outlook calendar looks like Rainbow Bright threw up but the differentiating colors helps me organize, focus and know exactly what is going on. My entire home is loud and colorful as I have finally leaned into what makes me happy and not bowing to how others view the world. My personality is vibrant and animated. I feel suppressed in situations where I'm supposed to "behave". 

But it's messy...

The art, my kitchen counter, my sock drawer, my mind, my life, my fears, my dreams...so messy.

So when things feel too messy I make lists. I love lists! I like writing them out in different colors, highlighting certain items, crossing things off and then re-writing a fresh new list (the best!). The act of writing organizes my mind. I can write out a grocery list, forget the list at home, and still come back with every item as I can see the list in my mind. I frequently have multiple lists going at once: work, errands, calls to make, goals, ideas...pretty sure I've made lists about the lists I should write.

With all the list writing, color organization and such, then why is everything such a mess? Because humans are messy. 

We're complicated. 

We're stupidly impulsive. 

We make mistakes. 

We are perfectly imperfect.

So for today I swirl my paint in zig zags and dots and make a beautiful mess. And for this moment on my deck, sun shining, a light breeze, my kitty beside me...it's OK to be messy.

Why I only had one child

Only giving birth to one child was a well thought out decision for me. Though I assumed, mainly from society's expectations, that I'd have more children, there were many moments and considerations that brought me to knowing what was best for me.

I was one of three children, my father one of three and my mother had one sister. I don't recall knowing many only children until later in life. We were taught to feel bad for only children as the belief was they were lonely and spoiled. We are also taught, especially being female, that there is a progression to life you need to follow which is: get married, have children, watch them get married, have grandchildren, die. None of this appealed to me but I felt I needed to keep that quiet.

I did want a baby desperately. I had a secret drawer that I didn't tell my husband about where I stashed books, clothing and other baby stuff; a baby hope chest of sorts. I had many telling me I needed to hurry up with getting pregnant as they were acting like my ovaries were hardening with each passing day. I was barely 22 when I first started hearing these sentiments, married at 25 and pregnant at 28. Getting pregnant was a lucky coincidence as my husband would never have agreed to paying for help if we hadn't been able to conceive. I'd gone off the pill for less than a month, went out for a nice dinner on a Saturday night and I was knocked up before midnight. It's one of the few times in my life where I felt the universe gave me a break.

While I adored my baby it was all debilitating for me. After being 10 days overdue I was induced and later needed an emergency c-section (and not giving birth vaginally saddened me for years). Nursing was painful and hard but I worked to do it for nearly 2 years. I had to go back to work and this hurt my heart to have to leave my baby. I was definitely too much of a martyr with my son, and allowed more than I should, because I wanted to be special and better than anyone watching him while I was away. I would wake up at 4am to top him off before driving to work in the dark, come home and all focus was baby night and day. Though relatives would randomly watch him for a bit, I felt very much on my own. The thought of another child immobilized me. 

I don't remember exactly how old I was but I'd say roughly 6 years after his birth I had my tubes tied. I expected to leave the hospital, see a baby and cry because I wouldn't have another. It never happened. Though I love kids I knew what I could handle and another child wasn't it. I see babies all the time and I smile and wave and am so happy I'm not doing that again.

There was also a healthy selfishness involved in my decision. I wanted a big life. I wanted travel. I wanted amazing experiences. And I didn't see that as possible, for me, with a ton of kids. I remember taking my son to New York City, and we were standing at the top of the TKTS steps looking out on Times Square lit up at midnight, and I said, "Do you wish you had siblings?" He said, "Not really." I said, "Good, because you know we wouldn't be here at this moment if I'd had more." He grinned and said, "Thank you.".

There is a darker side too. I was terrified of having a baby girl. I felt that if I had a girl that she'd have the horror of being like me and my father would destroy her. When I was pregnant I rubbed my belly every day and would say in my head "Boy, boy, boy...be a boy." I tried to will the Y chromosome into my baby. I felt it was a boy from the start but the nagging feeling that it could be a girl loomed overhead in thoughts I tried to push away. When he was born and I knew it was a boy I felt nothing but relief. I also weighed my odds of having a girl with a second pregnancy and the thought was too overwhelming and terrifying so I decided there could only be one. 

I know many women who have made thoughtful choices to not have children. And contrary to popular belief they are quite happy with no regrets. My son is now 21, and while I enjoyed every stage from baby to child to now young adult, I'm glad that time period is behind me.

My life, my choice and quite content.

Goal Setting

 I like setting goals and having a timeline of how I'll achieve them. I find that if I have a long term goal, and it's broken out into monthly/weekly/daily steps that the rest of my life also thrives. Though I've also taken this too far. When I was training for a marathon I went by a plan from an experienced running trainer. Because I'm a horrible runner I was convinced the only way I would complete the marathon was to do every single mile on every single day he specified. There were many days I was exhausted to tears but if on that day's plan it said do 10 miles, I'd do them all no matter how excruciating. In the short version of this story I injured myself due to over training. Completed the marathon (yes, under 6 hours so I got my medal) but was on crutches the next day. When you're a high energy, perfectionist, extrovert, the idea of giving yourself grace is a challenge.

Today is August 8, 2020, and according to astrology (or some other new age hippie nonsense that I follow) it's a highly energetic time as the Lion's Gate Portal is open. It's said that since we are now in the sign of Leo (My sign!) that on this date we can expect amplified power, self-confidence, self-control, willpower and abundance. I'll take it! 

So today I am making a goal list and checking it twice. I'm meditating on the life I want. I'm taking an honest look at everything around me from material possessions to relationships to see what is motivating me to be better and where I'm being silenced or sidelined. I light an empowerment candle to use another sense to keep my mind concentrated on where I want to be and what I want to do. I lay out crystals and burn some sage. It's a rare moment only about me.

If you know even a little of my background, and my feelings on religion, Gods, and spirituality; you may be asking what in hell I'm doing getting all witchy. Valid question. Now though I play with these things with a healthy amount of skepticism, I do love that on these dates, and with various items,  it points my mind to where I should focus. So does my wonderful smelling candle full of crystals and herbs empower me? I don't know but it directs my mind to the fact that I'm already empowered. Do the crystals have power? Well we know through science they have different energetic properties. And if rubbing some quartz when I'm panicking makes me feel better, so what? Maybe just like my experience in Christianity it's all an illusion but it's an illusion of my own creation and I'm using it to better serve me. 

I'm setting goals for daily writing. Writing out of stories in addition to my blog. Taking blog pieces and enhancing them to be essays. Toying with the goal of self publishing. Goals for my health; and though I'm a decently healthy person I see areas where I've gotten lax that used to be pretty tight, with the bottom line goal of doing what I know makes me feel my best. A goal of daily mediation; at one time I had a strong practice but I've let this go over the past year and see that I both want and need it back. Reading goals; I've joined 2 books clubs but more importantly I have books I bought years ago that I never read a single page so I want to read more as I know it not only keeps my brain sharp but it helps my writing. 

It's exactly 1 week from my birthday. Goals are set. Chakras aligned (doubtful...lol!). I know what I want and don't want. I feel the strongest I've felt in a very long time.

Shadow Work - Part II

I've been exploring shadow work, and while incredibly difficult it's changing me. It's looking at the dark side. It's facing the parts we try to hide that don't paint us in the best light. It's the path to the other side. With our world in upheaval, disagreement and offense everywhere, I have had to admit a truth about myself: I'm hugely judgmental. I like to think I portray myself as oh so cool, accepting and kind. And I mostly am...except when I see behavior, thought processes or actions that I deem are wrong. This means I'm judging, seething and angry all the time, while stuffing it down with a nod and a smile. My friend and I joke that we're justified in our judgment because we are "right". 

I definitely feel self righteous in the things I judge, and even if there is justifiable anger and rage, I acknowledge that I could go about things in kinder ways. I get snarky, I get rude and many times downright mean when I'm judging. While not being outright nefarious I do go for the weak spot and verbally annihilate people. 

Staying with this dark side I see two glaring issues: I enjoy doing this and these actions are what I hated my father for doing.

Yes, I get more than a little giddy when I give a racist the smack down. But I'm right, right? I enjoy speaking over people I feel are wrong so they don't know what to say. As I said in my previous shadow post...I like to blow shit up.

My father was loud, vocal and never held any disdain inside. For anything. I had an entire childhood of being embarrassed at his lack of tact and how his words would humiliate others. I hated his big mouth. I have a big mouth.

While standing up for what is just and right, this isn't who I ultimately want to be. I want a balance between speaking up for the oppressed, maybe even educating a few, but not doing it with a wicked back hand. It's a delicate line to balance.

I was thinking about this post while taking a walk and Don Henley's "Heart of the Matter" came on and the lyrics stopped me cold...

These times are so uncertain
There's a yearning undefined
People filled with rage
We all need a little tenderness
How can love survive in such a graceless age?

We are living a surreal existence right now. We're experiencing things we've never had to go through. There's no playbook. We're cranky, tired and the future looks uncertain. So maybe, just maybe, I can face this shadow side head on and attempt love more than venom.

Not needing anyone

I found myself looking around my place tonight and realizing how much I love it. I've finally let go of the expectations of others, or their opinions, and am doing exactly what I want. This also made me think of moving in three years ago and how I had to humble myself and let friends help me. I hate asking people for help.

My parents divorced when I was 15, and except for a few minor moments, I was on my own. Being forced to rely on myself, and not wanting my friends to know, I became resilient but also dysfunctional. I decided to face life alone and wouldn't ask anyone for help. If I did receive help from you, even now, be sure I paid you back. You might have thought I was just being kind picking up that tab but in my head I not didn't owe you.

Three years ago when I moved out of my 22 year marriage I was filled with shame and wanted to do it all on my own. I asked my brother for help with the big stuff and thought I could manage the rest. I had friends offering to help and I insisted I was fine. Thankfully they knew I wasn't fine and one said, "You're actually hurting me by now allowing me to help you" I did need the help and I'm so grateful it was put to me in those words otherwise I would have killed myself alone.

There is / was also a badge of pride in feeling that I didn't owe anyone a thing. I liked holding it over my parents heads when I fought with them that I did it all on my own. Now while my ex-husband would help me with car shit (his thing) asking for any other help I'd be told what an imposition it was on him. I kept it up all by myself. I would even say, with more than a little shame, that I like doing more for others so I feel good about myself and already have a credit with them. 

Feeling that you are this alone is painful. This last year I had a lot of help that was later turned on me as if I was using the person. This has only made me tighten up more and want to keep everyone at arm's length and nothing due to them. I hate needing anyone.

Yet we need each other. I certainly am happy to help. My ego is standing in the way of not feeling I'm climbing this mountain alone. What would happen if we all just said what we need?

Living in the Gray

"You can be a hot mess AND be wildly successful and prosperous. You can be unsure AND bold and courageous. He can have acted like a dick AND still loved you more than anything. She can be swiping your content AND be an honest person overall. Stop assuming because you believe one thing to be true, the other thing you want to believe can’t be true.This is the worst game cognitive dissonance plays with us — but you have the power to overcome it." ~ Melissa Catherine

A friend sent me this recently and the "AND" really hit me hard in the best of ways. My upbringing had black and white thinking instilled into me. Though I fought hard to say that there are gray areas, nuance, a spectrum; at my core this warped manner of looking at life still sunk in.

I'm looking back at situations, relationships, occurrences, and seeing that in every one there is an "and". Also observing where my blind spots are that I've dug my heels in to believe there is only one reason for it all. The bigger challenge is to look inward to find what is true to who I am, what I've been told I am and where there is more to the full picture. It's not all white or all black...it's gray.

Tonight is a Scarlet Full Moon. I'm crazy about the moon and most specifically full moons. This one is said to bring the following: It seeks to liberate from the past and create a better future. It brings on change. Free thinking. Emotional surprises. Now do I really believe a moon will do these things? No. Maybe. Kinda sorta but I'm super skeptical. I like to focus on what these things point me to, where I can change and where I've stagnated. So no matter what does or doesn't happen I'm good. It's a little gray and that's OK.

A little over a week from my birthday and I'm feeling pressure. Life and the calendar are screaming that I'm almost out of time. Yes, I'm being slightly over-dramatic here but the clock is ticking. I'm going deep and doing the hard work and I will succeed. My success might not look how you'd expect but it will be what is right for me. Somewhere in the gray.

Uncomfortable Conversations

Tim Ferriss said, "A person's success in life can usually be measured by the number of uncomfortable conversations he or she is willing to have." Ouch. I can't debate this as it makes a ton of sense. I've always looked on with interest at people who are able to have an uncomfortable conversation and be seemingly unfazed by it. I wonder if they were taught how to do this, if it comes naturally to them or is there more I'm not seeing.

The worst conversations for me are ones in which I know I'll potentially, though not intentionally, hurt another person. Even more grueling is when I need to set a firm boundary for myself. We can rehearse our words perfectly so as to cause the least harm and still destroy another. In an uncomfortable conversation the outcome can't be controlled no matter how hard you try as we don't have power over another person's response. 

If you don't know me well you may not suspect this area is a struggle for me, as I'm highly opinionated and love to debate. The difference seems to be in my concern over direct pain to another. While I'm fine with a difference of opinion, even to the point of offending, I never want it to go off subject to make another feel I've purposefully wounded them. 

To have a rational, yet with strong boundaries, uncomfortable conversation means it's about laying down your personal line of respect and allowing another to do the same. I've found when I've avoided one of these conversations that my feelings weren't counted in the potential hurt. Maybe this person hurt me and this is why I should speak but I'd take my own pain over theirs. Putting myself last is a comfortable and agonizing place to be. Dr Phil once said, "when you start setting boundaries with those you haven't set them before, expect they'll push back hard" (paraphrased). This has been true for me every single time I've done it and though it hasn't gotten easier, I'm becoming more skilled each time at seeing that the world didn't end for me to give a hard "No!".

I have a stupid hope that after each conversation that it will be the last one...with anyone...for life. It's illogical but I see it comforts me in those moments when I feel I could surely die from the awkwardness and difficulty of disagreement. My inner empath shrieks that there is danger ahead but I'm learning that feelings aren't fact and I will go on.

I've challenged myself in the coming year to have uncomfortable conversations immediately when an issue arises. I do think my procrastination actually does more harm than good anyway. Transformation is never easy but it's worth it.

I Will Survive

There's a old overused saying that goes, "Everything happens for a reason.". If you've ever been within earshot of someone saying this around me then you would have also heard me go into a tirade about what a bullshit thing that is to say to someone. It's horrifying to hear that as a survivor of any sort of trauma. I prefer the meme I've seen that goes, "If I smack you across the face...it was for a reason!". I've heard many that have gone through severe trauma say, "I wouldn't change a thing as it's made me who I am today." While I'm happy that's where they've landed, I will say that I'll never be OK with specific things that happened to me even if I'm strong, proud and living an amazing life. 

On the flip side I have endured painful lessons that I wouldn't want to experience again and I'm good with what they've taught me. I work hard to find how I can grow from situations that hurt me, own my part and make it to the other side. At times I'd say I over-examine my every move in the hopes that if I can figure out any and all mistakes that I won't face suffering again.

I don't like living as if my life is a game and "one wrong" move could be catastrophic. My preference would be to live organically, listening to my intuition, setting boundaries and being my whole self. What happens though is trauma clouds your thoughts, you trust the other person and not yourself, you over-react and under-react and become impulsive.

I find myself at a crossroads today. I see where I strayed from my path and shrank for others. I can envision who I want to be, who I feel I really am, yet it feels like it's blurry and in the distance. I feel my answer is more in forgiveness to myself than my usual go to of beating myself up with shame.

I will survive. I will thrive. And on a good day I know I'm actually doing both of these quite well.