Hiatus Reveles

If you’ve ever lost yourself  amidst the chaos of daily life, then you might understand why I stopped blogging.  There was a long stretch of time where I felt that the person I use to be was missing, or maybe stolen… and that was the person who loved to blog.  I gave up when the posts I wrote felt forced (you should see the number of drafts collecting dust in that folder) and blogging wasn’t fun anymore.  That person who opened up her soul to an online world of similar soul searchers was slowly choked away; It started with the abrupt demise of The Cranky Giraffe and culminated with the realization that I no longer wanted the life I was living.

Today, I admitted to someone that I used to blog.  It hurts when I say “used to.”  She asked me why I stopped and I didn’t have a good answer.  Maybe I did have a good answer for why I stopped: “Because I wasn’t anonymous anymore and I lost my mojo and I was unfairly judged.” But the real reason was because I wasn’t the person I used to be.  I was sad and lost, and I wasn’t recovering.

In obeying the rules and expectations from some external force, I watched as my very essence slipped through my own fingers.  However, I grasped the last fray before it was completely gone; as if I could see in slow motion that the last piece was falling to the ground.  What started as an epiphany has progressively blossomed into a path of courage, strength, and disobedience.  I’ve let that last fray grow back and intertwine through my fingertips and up to my chest.  I breath it into my lungs and pump it out through my body.  I feel like I am finally recovering.

I’ve found myself called back to the blog.  I’ve found myself called back to many things I used to love and I have slowly been re-discovering the person I am (not used-to-be).

Daily Post

 

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Impressive Has No Value

“There is no value in being impressive,” I said to her while gazing at the baby in my arms. “I used to care about impressing people, about being the person that people would take a second look at. But, people don’t care about impressive. They care about themselves.”I punctuated the last thought by starting right into her eyes. I have never said something more true in front of her. It was the first time I said it aloud; the first time I actually believed it to be a real truth.

“You’re right.” She smiled back at me.  

I looked back at my baby, who was holding my hands while tentatively attempting to explore the world around her. El had been to every appointment in this office since she was born. I sat on this very couch while I was pregnant, agonizing over how a third baby was going to fit into my already hectic and hard to manage lifestyle. And before that, I sat on this same couch weighing the pros and cons about the decision to even have a third pregnancy. Over the years, these conversations with my therapist have been plentiful, yet none have been more revealing to me than this one.

My gaze became out of focus as I explored this new truth that spilled from my lips. I thought back over the past few years and over the decisions I made that brought me to where I am today. I felt a sense of sadness and anger come over me. The desire to impress had taken over my whole life. It had distracted me from the aspects of my life that were most important to me. I lost track of what I should have cared most about, and instead, I moved to impress other people. I never, however, impressed myself.  

The past few years of my life have been a whirlwind of stress, anxiety, unhappiness, and discontent. And, I can’t take that back. Maybe people were impressed with me at some point: “I really don’t know how you do it all…” they’d say. But that moment only lasts for a second before they go back to caring about their own lives.

Caring about their own life: Something I should have been doing this whole time. I looked at baby El and realized that she and her brothers are the only ones who deserve my efforts to impress. And ironically, they don’t need to be impressed by me to love me and want me, and for me to the he most important person in their world. 

I regret the years I’ve wasted trying to impress other people. I know where the desire came from and that it was something engrained early and deep in my childhood insecurities. This epiphany – the sudden absence of my desire to impress – is a sign that those longstanding, deeply seeded issues are slowly being resolved. I walked away from the appointment with a renewed sense of clarity and purpose about how to move forward in my life. I stepped over the threshold from treatment room to a new world with a completely different approach to living my life. 

That simple sentence. One simple thought. An enormous truth that has remained hidden from my reality for far too long. My acceptance and belief in that one thing has already affected change in my life that I never thought would happen. I already feel happier. 

Pregnancy Shouldn’t be a Secret

I came across this blog post/article in my Facebook feed this morning:

http://www.scarymommy.com/articles/a-miscarriage-isnt-any-easier-if-no-one-knows-about-it?section=news&u=bx0JraXp8A
I love Scary Mommy for all their awesome and cynical posts about motherhood. This post, however is a little different. While I have no idea who these people are, I feel like it doesn’t matter. Why do we, as a society, feel the need to keep our successes and struggles with pregnancy a secret?

A miscarriage or a fertility struggle is not something of which we should be ashamed. Yet, people get criticized for sharing the news too early, or they feel like they can’t be honest about the excitement, disappointment, fear, or whatever emotion they’re feeling about their family planning. 

Previously I decided to be open about my decision and efforts to try for a third baby. If I’m going to be honest, I am disappointed that this time around hasn’t been as easy as the previous two… And when I say easy, I mean I think about being pregnant and BAM!  This time around I am into cycle 4.

I am trying to be more open about trying to conceive. However, I still find myself saying “I’d like to have another,” rather than, “yes, we’re trying,” when someone asks if we want another child. I wouldn’t say that I’m happy with my difficulties in being honest and open… But I can start here, on this blog:

I am trying. So far I haven’t had any luck. In fact, this month my period came earlier than I expected and this worries me because of my family history of premature ovarian failure. 

So there you have it – all my open and honest worries about my failed attempts at pregnancy over the past 3 months. 

From the Beginning

Any one who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eye are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind’s eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye.

—Plato, The Republic
Today I start from the beginning.  But where is that. you ask?
The beginning is really only where the previous end left off, in much the same way that Plato’s bewilderment comes from either coming or going into the light.  Or, maybe it has more to do with seeing from the mind’s eye instead of the body’s eye.
Recently, I have come in from the light (or did I go out into the ligh?  I still don’t really know).  What I have learned, though, is that nothing is ever as it seems: it is never as straightforward, fair, decent, understanding, or utopian as you might have ever believed it to be.
Perhaps this misunderstanding – or incongruent understanding of the human condition – comes from using the wrong eye to look at the world.  I want to believe that to be the case.  And so, as I start off on this new adventure in the world of blogging I will do my best to look forward with the eye of my mind rather than that of my body.
I have said good-bye to a previous blogging adventure, and with nothing shallower than a lake of tears.  With this new path I hope to take what I’ve learned and grow more in my attempts to live honestly, wholeheartedly, and entrenched in authenticity.  I hope to bring elements from the past back to lighten my journey.  Yet, this is also an opportunity for me to close a chapter (or two, or two hundred) in my life that no longer needs to be open.
Perhaps that is exactly what this whole “Living with Authenticity” is meant to be: knowing when to hold on, knowing when to let go, and doing everything in between with strength, integrity, and honesty.