Just a Quick Note

First, I want to apologize for the lack of witty postings. I have heard from a number of you about my apparent absence from the blog, so I figured I should probably write a quick note.

The truth is I recently had one of those moments when life comes around and knocks you on your ass. For some reason, this time around its been a little harder to get back on my feet than before. I've spent days walking around in emotional zombie land and haven't felt truly inspired to write (or talk or do for that matter) about anything. This is also my apology to those of you in my life who have experienced my lack of interest recently.

So - I may be MIA for a little while, but I will be back to regale you with stories of single hood shortly, just as soon as my legs get back underneath me. Thank you to all of you for your love, support, and continued readership of this fairly random blog, and I will see all of you very soon!

May all of you today find the things that pick you up...

Tiny Ripples

It's true that my life, like everyone else's, has had its share of potholes and brick walls.  Through all of the tragedies and triumphs though, one thing holds true - the universe has surrounded me with exactly the right people in exactly the right moments.  I'm not sure I will ever have the words to adequately describe the strength and support I receive from them, but those people have left enduring marks on my heart.

I have to admit, I was a little caught off-guard by the response to my last posting.  I tend to go off on tangents, especially in areas in which I am passionate, and this was no exception.  Through emails, phone calls and public postings (thank you to a very dear friend for sharing for others to see), I realized that my one tiny ripple reached more people than I could have ever imagined.

Within 48 hours of that posting, I received this poem.  Tonight I want to share it with you.  For all of my readers, both those I know and those I have never met, thank you for allowing me the safe place to open up:

I'm Glad I Touched Shoulders With You

There's a comforting thought at the close of a day

When I'm weary and lonely and sad

That sort of takes hold of my crusty old heart

and bids it be merry and glad.

It gets in my soul and drives out the blues,

and it finally thrills through and through:

It is just a sweet memory that chants the refrain,

I'm glad I touched shoulders with you.

Did you know you were brave,

Did you know you were strong?

Did you know that I waited and prayed

and was cheered by your simplest word?

Did you know that I longed for the smile on your face?

For the sound of your voice ringing true?

Did you know I grew stronger and better because

I have merely touched shoulders with you?

I'm glad that I live, that I battle and strive

For the place that I know I must fill;

I am thankful for sorrows; I'll meet with a grin

What fortune may send, good or ill.

I may not have wealth, I may not be great,

But I know I shall always be true,

For I have for eternity that love that you gave

Because I rubbed shoulders with you.

-Author Unknown

May you all continue to be that light for others.

Let's Talk About It

I just attended a domestic violence conference and between the heart-wrenching statistics shared there and the media storm that accompanied all of the young girls who tweeted they would allow Chris Brown to beat them following his appearance on the Grammy's, I feel compelled to do something I have very rarely done.

So let's talk about it.

Earlier in my life, I became involved with a guy that I originally thought was pretty damn amazing.  He seemed to be well-liked, had a bit of a bad boy edge, and was definitely into me.  Little did I know what I was actually getting involved in after that first date.

Through a series of events (which we'll save for some future blog), I had begun to think that love somehow involved some version of hurt.  My self-esteem was already floundering when I met this guy, I was at a point in my life where I had just started to come into my own and develop my own identity, and I fell HARD.  Things seemed wonderful at first....but even that didn't last very long.

Over the course of a few months it became increasingly obvious that I was much more considered property than a girlfriend.  I was expected to do things, say things, be things that he wanted, and there was constant ridicule and humiliation if I failed to comply.  At some point, things went from verbal and emotional abuse to physical. I somehow managed to hide the increasing amount of violence from everyone who loved me while still attempting to hold on to this "man".

One of the last violent moments still sticks in my mind as if it is somehow permanently imprinted there, like a horrible nightmare that just keeps replaying over and over.  It was late and I was ready to leave his house, ready to go home for the night.  I had already heard some really not-so-pleasant things about me, my body, and, without going into graphic details, my ways of doing things.  When I vocalized that I was heading home, the look in his eyes was almost crazed.  I was stripped of my clothing and locked in a room - an effort aimed at imparting humiliation and degradation but also at making it very clear who was actually in charge.  Again, no graphic details here, but it was a very long night.  When I finally arrived home I looked as if I had just been hit by a bus - I was covered in ash and Jack Daniels and could see the beginnings of more than just a few bruises.

Something in me came alive when I looked in the mirror that day.  I knew that if my parents had seen me (or smelled for that matter) that morning I would be in serious trouble.  More than anything, though, I knew I would see the concern in their eyes.  It's then that the voice in my head finally spoke up to support me - saying that there was no way I could continue on this path.

I made the decision to get out, made my plan, and eventually packed up and moved to California.  But the violence didn't end there.  He attacked me via all forms of social networking (at that time it was email and instant messenger - thank goodness Twitter and Facebook didn't exist, who knows how horrible that could have been) and flew out to California.  I became a statistic (it takes, on average, 7 attempts to leave an abusive situation), but when I refused to do the things he wanted me to do because the voice in my head was getting stronger, he attacked me verbally, told me I was never going to be wife-material, and packed up and left.  I never spoke to him again.

Let me be perfectly clear here - just because I walked away from an abusive relationship doesn't mean I am any better than those who choose to stay.  What it does mean is that one day I realized that I couldn't do it anymore, that I couldn't be that person any longer.  I do not look at women who choose to stay and blame them.  I WAS them.  For a long time.  It took a very long time to be able to look at myself in the mirror, to believe that the person staring back at me was not the person he convinced me I was.  I still have those moments today, more than 10 years later.  I understand the pain and heartbreak associated with an abusive relationship, both being in one and leaving one.  I understand the toll that takes on you and your life for years. I hope that if you are reading this and identifying with the situation, that you are not judged but supported by those who really love you.

So what needs to be done? What we need is not only to teach our girls that they are strong, competent, and that no man is ever going to be worth that, but also to teach our boys that violence is NEVER EVER okay.  I am not property, you are not my master, and the belief systems that encourage that way of thinking need to disappear.  We'll be able to do that when we start speaking up, loudly, and putting a face and a name to the violence.

You now have mine.

May all of you be treated with dignity, respect and love - today and always.

The Upside of Running Away

A few weeks back I took a much needed break from reality.  I packed a bag, decided against telling anyone I was leaving and ran away from my life.  And while I know there are a few of you out there skipping over words right now trying to get to the juicy part of THAT story, I’m sorry to say I’m still not sharing.  I firmly believe there are some moments, some memories in our lives that we should keep just for ourselves.  Ones that we only share with the person(s) we made them with.  But I digress.

I had reached a point in my life in which simply turning off the ringer on my phone and curling up on the couch wasn’t going to do any good.  I needed to be someone other than Jen, if only for a few days.  I needed to shut off the every day and be free to absorb the little joys in life.

  

We all have moments that can wreak havoc on our emotions - different situations that lead to a questioning of ourselves and if we’re truly on the right path.  I have a tendency to allow myself to be overpowered by the voice in my head that, despite any visible successes, knows exactly what to say to knock me off my feet.  This voice can become massive and cruel and can use almost any situation to point out all of my fears and weaknesses, turning them into some skewed version of the truth.  

I have learned, throughout my life, that running away from my problems for a short amount of time helps alleviate the voice in my head.  I think that denial is the mind’s way of allowing the body to continue to heal because if we continued to be stuck inside our minds, our physical selves would deteriorate until there was nothing left.  

I’m not saying that running away is a permanent coping skill to problems in our lives.  All that really happens then is the our problems find new homes in the places we ran to.  But running away for a short amount of time can give us the energy we need to face whatever challenges await with the courage and strength that was being depleted.  

And while I’m still not sharing, I will tell you that my break from Jen was exactly what I needed at that exact moment.  And for that I am grateful - grateful for those who accept me for who I am and for those who allow me to be whatever I want to be.

May you all find moments of rejuvenation today...

In Not So Many Words

Recently we received some great news that we were expecting another little one in the family. Being the opportunist that I am, I took this as a chance to once again try to convince my father that there would be no babies from his youngest anytime in the near future - if ever. I had my argument planned out before the phone call. Please read on to see how the conversation went (and note this is the abbreviated version so please don't get offended):

Me: "So, you got the text?"
Dad: "Yep, another little one."
Me: "It's great for them..." (I think I may have stressed THEM as a precursor)
Dad: "Yep, they wanted another one."
Me: "I'm happy for them - they can keep having babies. Not me."
Dad: "Good. I've been trying to tell all of you that you shouldn't even have kids. They're too expensive."

Umm...huh? I think I actually got silent at that point in the conversation. Up until recently, my father was trying to marry me off (I stopped mentioning names of guys I went out with) and seemed to be expecting that I would be expecting. My silence gave him the chance to go off on a rant about how much money it cost to raise a child until he/she was 18. Then he said the best thing ever:

Dad: "Save your money for a new car. With what you'll be getting paid for the rest of your life you're gonna need all the cash you can get."

So call me crazy - but I'm fairly certain that I just heard my father tell me that he accepted who I was and was proud of the person I was becoming. There are no words to adequately describe the feeling that washed over me in that exact moment. Who knew the one thing I'd been searching for within myself could be validated and uncovered by hearing someone else make that acknowledgement? The one person (other than my mother) who was so completely invested in me as a person had just given me the most precious gift. A moment I'll treasure, even if it came in a roundabout way.

My hope is that each of you today receive that gift of acceptance and acknowledgement from those you love - and that you continue to spread that gift. All it takes is one person to give us the faith we need to begin to believe in ourselves. Even if it's in not so many words...

Do we have to talk about it?

Okay, here's today's blog disclaimer:  Yes, I am a therapist.  I spend the majority of my professional days helping people discuss difficult topics.  However, when it comes to my personal life I very rarely go there except with a handful of people.  Hence the title of this post.  And yes, I fully comprehend the irony of a therapist that doesn't want to talk about it.  So now that you've read the disclaimer, we'll continue with the story.

A week or so back I was on the phone with my dad as I was getting ready to head out the door for dinner with a friend.  When he found out where I was headed and with whom, my father broached a subject I was illogically hoping to avoid.  No, not marriage and not babies.  I think I would have preferred that conversation. In my head I knew it had to happen eventually, but I was so happy living in blissful ignorance that I had managed to convince myself that perhaps my heart would never have to hear it.  So what was it that ever-so-slightly freaked me out?

My dad wants to start dating.

Next month we'll hit the 3 year anniversary of losing my mother.  Since that moment, my dad has been attempting to redefine his life without her.  He started going out to different restaurants, but sits at the bar and converses with the bartenders and the "regulars."  On that phone call a few weeks back he said something that ripped open my heart - that he hasn't sat at a table in a restaurant with a woman for a very long time.  Even when I was there we sat at the bar - although that's not even close to what he was saying.

I'll admit it - my heart did a flip flop.  I'm knocking on the door of 33 and all I've ever known was my mom and my dad.  Together.  No one else.  Now there may be a chance of someone else?  Uh oh, I think I may have just been chucked into adulthood.  Luckily for me someone out there created a mute button and I just happened to have a friend standing steps away.  I muted the phone and told him what had just happened.  Being the only voice of reason in that moment he said the one thing I needed to hear - "Isn't that a good thing?  All you've wanted for the past 3 years was for him to be happy.  This is what he needs to be happy. This isn't about you."

That was the ultimate truth.  Despite my feelings about losing my mom and the potential for some other person to come into our lives, all I've be wishing for, all I've been hoping for is for my dad to be happy.  The past 3 years have been rough....and if this is what he needs....it may not be easy for me, but it's not really about me is it?

So what did I say to him, to the man who has been trying to recreate his life in the last 3 years?  I said the same thing I would say to anyone starting a new chapter of their lives - "Give it a whirl, what's the worst that could happen?"

That's the lesson here - moving on to a new chapter may be difficult.  There will definitely be people out there with opinions on what you should or shouldn't do.  But the ultimate truth is that it isn't about them - so go ahead and give it a whirl.  You'll never know what's waiting for you if you don't.

What Do You Want?

This is going to be a short one.

I recently had the pleasure of listening to a pretty phenomenal speaker - Michael Bungay Stanier - who had the uncanny ability to pull me in.  I've told you previously that my attention span rivals that of a gnat, so for anyone to grab my attention and hold it with such intense passion I'm always impressed.  For those of you who haven't heard of him, he has written a book "Do Less Good Work. Do More GREAT work".  The premise is that we all spend the majority of our time just getting by - doing what we need to do.  I just received an email that resonated that I wanted to share, especially since it came almost immediately after posting my last blog.  I hope you enjoy.

<Taken from "Great Work Kickstarter #4 - Where are you stuck?">

It's hard to do Great Work when you're feeling stuck.
Stuck shows up differently for each of us.
For some it's having a dream but not knowing how to get it.
For others, it's not having a dream and feeling empty.
It can be waiting for your superhero to show (and they're taking their time)
Or it can be feeling responsible for everyone - and feeling exhausted.
However you get stuck - and we all get stuck from time to time, it's part of being human - it has this at its essence:
You only have one way to see the situation...and you don't like what you see.
So where are you feeling stuck right now?
Not sure? Here are some clues...
   Where do you feel in a rut?
   Where do you feel lots of "shoulds" and "musts"
   Where do you feel there is no choice?
   What makes you grit your teeth in frustration?
   What are you tolerating?

Are you starting to see where you might be stuck?

***
For me, this was a powerful message.  I hope it carried some power for you as well.

Michael Bungay Stanier can be found at www.BoxofCrayons.biz - sign up for the Great Work Kickstarters!!