The last couple of days have been a whirlwind of much needed “girl time” for me… First, a mom’s Christmas Party; then, hanging out and sipping wine with a few lovely ladies; then, getting to chat with a friend over dinner; and finally a dessert/coffee get-together with another group of fantastic females. Woo wee! It’s strange how I have felt so disconnected from the women around me here (what with having to chase down a toddler before introductions can even be completed and whatnot), and yet suddenly this weekend I had more girl time than I knew what to do with! It was amazing and refreshing. I laughed and blabbed and felt truly welcomed into their hearts.
Even before I moved out here to Oklahoma, I had never really had a lot of those girl-bonding experiences. Chris and I married while we were pretty young. We were some of the first of our friends to tie the knot, and so I didn’t have a lot of female peers who were on the same page as me in life… you know, having sex and franticly trying to learn to cook and keep up with the laundry. So, I never really got to get together with anyone and gab about the challenges and thrills of the newly-married life. I didn’t get to laugh with girlfriends over the fact that all of Chris and I’s indoor potted plants died within the first month or two of our marriage because he assumed I would be the plant-waterer, and I assumed he would be the plant-waterer. Before we knew it, we had crispy greenery and our first reality check that marriage was going to take some figuring-out.
To be able to get together with other really cool girls and talk for hours about kids and marriage and life was huge for me. I felt like I’d finally found my niche… Like a fish out of water that finally flopped its way back into the pond. SPLOOSH! I’m meeting some girls again on Saturday for breakfast. I’m finding that I am becoming passionate again about seeing women freed up from all the CRAP this world tells them to believe about themselves…
Like, You’ve got to look pretty. (CRAP.)
You’ve got to have it all together. (CRAP.)
You don’t ever ask for help. (CRAP. CRAP. CRAP.)
Life is messy so let’s stop pretending it’s not and how your hair looked today won’t make a bit of difference when it’s all said and done. (A sneeze in the hurricane, really.) Live from your heart and find your worth in things greater than other’s opinions of you. Stop giving yourselves ulcers because you’ve been told your daily balancing act must look EFFORTLESS.
Last night I was having a hard time with Ezra because I was tired and it was so close to his bedtime and he was being fussy and exhausting ALL of his energy on escaping my attempts to put pajamas on him. I started to feel that desperate panic rising up inside of me again- the one that suddenly grows larger than life and squeezes out all rational thought. That feeling that tells me I need to sit down and take deep breaths and get calm again… before ANYTHING else. Leave the kid running wild with only one pant leg pulled up and one arm through a T-shirt and sit on the floor and B R E A T H E.
I did that and felt better, but when Chris got home he could tell I was rattled. He asked me what was wrong and I blurted out, “I don’t know why people enjoy this!”
“THIS. Being parents.”
It felt so good just to say that outloud, because YEAH I feel that way sometimes. It felt so good to hear Chris say “It’s OK, honey.” and see in his eyes that he didn’t think any less of me for saying what I felt in that moment. It felt so good to be messy and real and honest for a change.
I’m afraid that we (as women) have got our guard up so often and are so damn concerned about how we’re measuring up all of the time that we’re constantly missing out on the beautiful REALITY. The harsh ‘breaking point moments’ and the sweet relief that pours in when we finally surrender and admit we aren’t superheroes… we’re just tired and afraid we’re only one second away from dropping the ball. Why is it we are always feeling pursued by some nameless fear? Turn around! There’s no one there! Why is it that we demand so much from our bodies, our faces? Have you ever met one of those women who were stunning and breathtaking and gorgeous and it had nothing to do with her make-up or clothing or sex appeal? Cruel irony! The things we’ve been taught to pursue lead us further from where we want to be.
The nameless fear is bogus. I think we’re running from ourselves.