The past couple of months have been a whirlwind. No, that's not quite right. Perhaps an F5 tornado is a more fitting description. I could probably write an entire book just on the past few months, but in many ways I cannot for the life of me think of why it would matter. Most of it I have dealt with, some I am still working to understand. But at the core of it all, my base support remains steady. I suppose that sometimes all you can hope for is a strong cellar door to block out the worst, and hope nothing comes crashing through. That door is beat to hell right now, but it held. And for that I am thankful.
In brief - I ran my first marathon (freaking amazing), turned 34, had a lovely and quiet Christmas with my spouse/kiddos/dog. I missed my NASM cert by one point and I am currently studying to re-take...talk about an ego blow when you have a PhD. Cue eye roll. My tantrum about that lasted a day before I reminded myself that I can do better anyway. My daughter turned 2, where does the time go? My husband sent me on a solo trip that changed my whole perspective on my role in our business. And while the hell of political turmoil and unrest spins all around I was able to find a small semblance of peace in myself. I am leaving out a lot, I suppose. Like the almost 2 months I have been not really running due to healing from an injury and being a bit burnt out. And the weekly therapy trips to help me find me amidst the rubble left by the roles others have tried to assign to me.
Yea. Definitely an F5 rating.
I didn't know if I would find my way back to writing. Life overtakes me quite often. I crash into bed some nights thinking 'how will I ever get it all done,' only to wake the next morning and start all over again. Then I felt the pull tonight, and the words just poured out.
I knew it was coming. I just wasn't sure if I was ready to write them down.
So I didn't...they wrote themselves.
Loss is hard. Sometimes you just need to accept that, then move on.
The words sit on the brink of my consciousness.
Waiting for me to pluck them and assign them as needed. Yet still slightly out of reach.
They slip right beyond my grasp. Not quite ready, but close enough to feel.
And how I feel.
The emotional tidal waves have diminished to more of steady waves on a beach. The tide pools have gathered a few stragglers, and these trip me up every now and then. But more or less I have accepted what is, what will be.
It is not anything I could ever have anticipated, but it is my truth.
And ultimately my choice.
I am no longer willing to accept intolerance, abusive assaults on me or my family, unsolicited and unhelpful advice from those who have painted a picture of me that I am not. I wish they knew me.
I think I am worth really knowing.
But I am told that it may be more about what can be accomplished than what is desired. I may have to settle for what is right now. But I shall only do so if I remain protected from the pain of the facade.
So much pain so thinly veiled. Not my own, but pain that hurts me all the same.
Each day is another step forward on my journey.
I find that I am stronger than before, and while the tears came...they did not last.
I cannot change anyone but myself, and what a magnificent job of that I have done/am doing. I am not ashamed of how I got here. I am not concerned at how long it has taken me to find the bits of me I am currently assembling. I am worth more than the misogyny and hate I have heard too recently directed at me.
I don't state that as a record of my self-esteem but rather as a fact.
We are all more deserving of respect from others.
Now I am simply sad. Sad that others feel the need to project their pain. Sad that they are in such pain. Yet all I can do is bow out of their lives with love. Because it is not on me to heal them. True healing must be found within ourselves. In our decisions to seek help or guidance, in our choices to live better and stronger lives, in our determination to pursue our own dreams...no matter the time or cost.
May you find your strong one day, as I have certainly found mine.