at the end of March
We spent 15 minutes in the backyard last night. They were so happy to be outside playing and instead of staying inside and enjoying the quiet, we both headed outside for a few minutes to hang out, too. It wasn’t anything earth-shattering, but it was fun to watch her blow bubbles and try to see how many laps back and forth across the yard we could get them to run to wear them out.
My heart is heavy. It’s not good or bad. It’s not sad, it’s just struggle and lots of jumbled thoughts. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about and being vulnerable this week and my head is a little cloudy. At a heart-stirring dinner with an amazing group of women who I had only just met, I let tears fall over something so close to my heart, I can barely speak the words out loud. I spoke the words out loud, then had to look down through my tears. Then felt the need to apologize for my tears and wipe them away. I let the tears fall, then we went around the table speaking of the things in the world that are most dear to our hearts and the ways we want to change the world and I am eternally grateful for every person in that room who was willing to also open their own heart.
The thing is, it’s hard to speak things out loud when they live so deeply in your heart. It’s hard to say out loud that I am trying so so hard to grow my business because we need the income. It’s even harder to say that it’s because we’re trying to aggressively pay off debt and save money to possibly adopt and to buy a house with more than two bedrooms. It’s hard to say that my first step in admitting my imperfections was when I accepted the fact that I am an awful, anxious, panic attack-riddled, complete bitch of a person in a high stress corporate environment and my health and well-being relies on me never going back there again…but we need (and want) the additional income stream, so I have to figure out how to make it work in a different environment.
When you think people have it all together, they don’t. When you think people live perfect lives and have time left over to blog: they don’t. I’ve been learning this over and over and over again – we all have struggles. I question posting photos from our backyard because our old rotting shed in the background makes me cringe and really needs to be fixed. But you know what? I love that back yard! And my tiny house. My cozy little home makes me happy, even if we still haven’t prioritized replacing the side of the shed and repainting and landscaping the backyard and still might not for a while because we want to prioritize paying off debt and more savings first. My kids might look like little ragamuffins running around in the backyard, but they’re happy in their adult-size t-shirts that they got for being the honorary something-or-other at the local team baseball game last year.
“For women, shame is: Do it all, do it perfectly and never let them see you sweat…Shame for women is this web of unattainable, conflicting, competing expectations about who we’re supposed to be. And it’s a straight jacket.” –Brené Brown
I really don’t want to live my life in that straight jacket. How about you?