I bet you thought I had flaked, right? That my whole desire to blog more lasted a week and then faded?
You're not going to be rid of me quite that easily this time around.
Actually, starting Friday evening we had snow. The magical, once-a-year experience here in the South had the house in a bundle of excitement. Instead of writing I was out walking the streets in the dark with my firstborn, seeing if she could catch any pictures of the flurries of snow in the dim light on her new camera.
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| This was Maryn's shot of the snow flurries in the glow of the street lamp. |
Saturday was sledding, napping, eating, being a bum, and not feeling a morsel of remorse for being off-track. It was glorious.
Then with Sunday came some feelings I needed to sort out, and I didn't feel like writing. Everyone gets mad. But no one wants to be memorialized years from now for what they wrote in anger. At least not me. I want to be real, but not angry.
And that takes me to today. My mom and I were just casually texting back and forth, which I love, because we don't do it nearly often enough, because McLean's are a lovable bunch and some of the absolute worst at keeping in touch, myself fully included, and it just felt so wonderfully normal! It made me wonder why we don't do it more often?!
Between yesterday and today the thoughts percolating in my mind were trying to analyze my feelings over the last couple of days. I take care of people, I love them, I encourage them, it's what I do. It's just a part of me to want to help others, to champion them, support them, and rally around them. I like that part of me. But then on the flip side I feel like I've notoriously put myself on a back burner in terms of what I deserve, what I should expect in others, and so on in life. I don't like that part of me. I'm working on balancing the two, and while standing up for myself feels amazing, I hate that a part of me feels like I'm compromising that nurturer in me too.
So that's where my brain is at. When do I make a point and stand my ground because I deserve it and when do I let it go...
It's easy to get frustrated with ourselves in those areas of our personality that are undergoing renovations. To know who we want to be, but still having to be patient with the dust required as we undergo the work of working on ourselves.
It goes back to my previous post about patience...
I appreciated my mom's words though as we messaged back and forth. I was telling her that I had recently made amends with one of my cousins for some insensitive remarks I had made years earlier. (My brain has the best of intentions, my mouth is slowly in the process of acquiring a filter. Sometimes it gets me in trouble. That adds to the struggle of introversion, because you never know if opening your mouth is worth the risk... Sometimes it's just a lot easier to be a hermit.) Anyways, my lovely mother said...
I told her that one of the very best things about a mom is that they don't see your life in the same snippets that others do. Or even ourselves. We can compartmentalize ourselves or allow ourselves to be compartmentalized by others; but mothers, they see the whole picture, the whole story, before our self-awareness was even developed, and can be our eyes to help us see ourselves more clearly.
It is okay for me to stand up for me and it doesn't have to be a compromise of myself. Because who I am is someone who cares, and always will. Loving myself and championing myself won't get in the way of that. It's not either or, it's not black or white. This is me, in all my varying shades, and that's okay.
I'm really grateful for my mom and her eyes, and their ability to help me see and catch glimpses of my greater, more whole, big picture self.