day 1. 2019. happy new year!
on the plane “home.” it’s strange to call two places home, and mean it… Ellen is laying on my lap in tears (there was “a bee in her headphones”), my arm resting on her forehead to type, her holding it like a stuffed bear.
It’s funny how life hands you nuggets of wisdom unexpectedly at times. I was mid-fight with the wifey right before Christmas (the joys of hormones, a packed-full house, and the holidays rolled into one) — and as I fought back tears (unsuccessfully), I yelled “I just wanted to appear to be a stable and healthy human being, for once, to my family.” I had something said similar just a couple weeks before as I surveyed colleagues for places I could eat keto at, so that while out to dinner with my ex, who weathered numerous eating disorders alongside me over a decade ago, wouldn’t think I was still a hot mess in that department.
As a 33 year old woman with a moderately successful career and amazing family, I just want to prove to the world - or rather, my little world/bubble - I’m ok. I want them to know that they succeeded in raising a human that thrives in this world, in all respects. Anyone and everyone who has ever gotten close to me knows I have struggled (in different ways at different times), and for once in my life I wanted the people closest to me not to see me as a broken and ticking time bomb at every turn.
I’m not broken. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m living my best life right now. In fact, 95% of the time I’d like to believe I am even thriving as a human - living a happy, well-adjusted, pretty fucking wonderful life. But it seems like the stars align in the worst way possible, and always when I am around the people I love most in the world, and I turn into some kind of ridiculous 17-year-old-ragingly-ridiculous and nonsense-filled girl. I can appear perfectly normal to most, but I just can’t seem to keep it together when it comes to those closest to me - the ones who have witnessed all my ups and downs in life.
Is it normal? Is that why other people lose their marbles at the holidays, too? It’s as though I want so desperately to prove I’m normal now - that I have all my ducks in a row and am a functional adult, that I end up at the opposite end of the “seriously I got this” spectrum. Oy.
Is it the “Where”? Or the “When”? (Yes, I am mid Wrinkle in Time series right now). Regardless, I suppose it all means that I don’t actually have my shit together. Or maybe 95% is good enough?
What do I want for my daughters? I want them to love themselves, and all their quirks. Having them has helped me accept my own, embrace them, and often even be proud of all that makes me, me (including these thighs and calves that Ellen wears so proudly). How do I help them cope with the pokes (that come with those quirks) better? How do I support them in not feeling like certain situations feel like a pressure cooker?
I was talking with someone recently who has spent their life paired up with people who need things - people like me (and me, specifically). It’s exhausting. Thank jesus these people exist in the world, but hell, I can’t imagine how draining it is to constantly feel like you have to be the wall holding someone else up all the time. My wife is one of those people. Thankfully. And we spent a solid 9 to 10 years with me occupying the crazy parking spot a good chunk of the time.
On date night, during our annual “year in review” (11 years strong this year!), I realized I am growing into a self-sufficient human being - imagine that. It hit me that thanks to my wifey (and perhaps a fervent and relentless commitment to self-care), I am finding myself less and less in need of things from other people, especially in the emotional/mental department. Turns out, not needing anything (well not much, anyway) from those around you is incredibly liberating. Borderline intoxicating. Its made me desperately not want to need anything from anyone, ever, including my wife (which is entirely implausible, per the third paragraph of this little note). As someone who has always been labeled independent, it’s not until recently that I have really felt that way, as I begin to understand what it feels like to not need things from others to be sane, happy, - or really, lets be honest, just not a shit show.
I want to raise daughters that need nothing, from anyone. It seems unlikely given both of their personalities, however. We’ll see. I’m learning. So will they.
And in conclusion, the flight attendant just offered me a (second) free glass of wine that she accidentally poured. Karma bitches. The end.
(And, I do still need plenty of things. Like wine.)
on the plane “home.” it’s strange to call two places home, and mean it… Ellen is laying on my lap in tears (there was “a bee in her headphones”), my arm resting on her forehead to type, her holding it like a stuffed bear.
It’s funny how life hands you nuggets of wisdom unexpectedly at times. I was mid-fight with the wifey right before Christmas (the joys of hormones, a packed-full house, and the holidays rolled into one) — and as I fought back tears (unsuccessfully), I yelled “I just wanted to appear to be a stable and healthy human being, for once, to my family.” I had something said similar just a couple weeks before as I surveyed colleagues for places I could eat keto at, so that while out to dinner with my ex, who weathered numerous eating disorders alongside me over a decade ago, wouldn’t think I was still a hot mess in that department.
As a 33 year old woman with a moderately successful career and amazing family, I just want to prove to the world - or rather, my little world/bubble - I’m ok. I want them to know that they succeeded in raising a human that thrives in this world, in all respects. Anyone and everyone who has ever gotten close to me knows I have struggled (in different ways at different times), and for once in my life I wanted the people closest to me not to see me as a broken and ticking time bomb at every turn.
I’m not broken. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m living my best life right now. In fact, 95% of the time I’d like to believe I am even thriving as a human - living a happy, well-adjusted, pretty fucking wonderful life. But it seems like the stars align in the worst way possible, and always when I am around the people I love most in the world, and I turn into some kind of ridiculous 17-year-old-ragingly-ridiculous and nonsense-filled girl. I can appear perfectly normal to most, but I just can’t seem to keep it together when it comes to those closest to me - the ones who have witnessed all my ups and downs in life.
Is it normal? Is that why other people lose their marbles at the holidays, too? It’s as though I want so desperately to prove I’m normal now - that I have all my ducks in a row and am a functional adult, that I end up at the opposite end of the “seriously I got this” spectrum. Oy.
Is it the “Where”? Or the “When”? (Yes, I am mid Wrinkle in Time series right now). Regardless, I suppose it all means that I don’t actually have my shit together. Or maybe 95% is good enough?
What do I want for my daughters? I want them to love themselves, and all their quirks. Having them has helped me accept my own, embrace them, and often even be proud of all that makes me, me (including these thighs and calves that Ellen wears so proudly). How do I help them cope with the pokes (that come with those quirks) better? How do I support them in not feeling like certain situations feel like a pressure cooker?
I was talking with someone recently who has spent their life paired up with people who need things - people like me (and me, specifically). It’s exhausting. Thank jesus these people exist in the world, but hell, I can’t imagine how draining it is to constantly feel like you have to be the wall holding someone else up all the time. My wife is one of those people. Thankfully. And we spent a solid 9 to 10 years with me occupying the crazy parking spot a good chunk of the time.
On date night, during our annual “year in review” (11 years strong this year!), I realized I am growing into a self-sufficient human being - imagine that. It hit me that thanks to my wifey (and perhaps a fervent and relentless commitment to self-care), I am finding myself less and less in need of things from other people, especially in the emotional/mental department. Turns out, not needing anything (well not much, anyway) from those around you is incredibly liberating. Borderline intoxicating. Its made me desperately not want to need anything from anyone, ever, including my wife (which is entirely implausible, per the third paragraph of this little note). As someone who has always been labeled independent, it’s not until recently that I have really felt that way, as I begin to understand what it feels like to not need things from others to be sane, happy, - or really, lets be honest, just not a shit show.
I want to raise daughters that need nothing, from anyone. It seems unlikely given both of their personalities, however. We’ll see. I’m learning. So will they.And in conclusion, the flight attendant just offered me a (second) free glass of wine that she accidentally poured. Karma bitches. The end.
(And, I do still need plenty of things. Like wine.)