There has been quite a bit of turmoil in my life the last few years…akin to living life in a snow globe with a toddler picking it up and shaking it vigorously, randomly, without warning.
It’s really not how I thought my life would turn out.
I never thought I’d run a business.
I never thought I’d be divorced.
I never thought I’d travel the world.
I never thought I’d get sick.
I never thought I’d be alone.
I never thought I’d be starting over, again, at 45 years old. (Yeah I always claim #42forever, I’m done with that facade too).
In the morning I’m buying a house. While not a first, or my only, it is a milestone nonetheless.
I’m buying it for me. For my boys. For my cat and my dog. For stability. For hope. For the future. For safety. For security.
It’s scary af.
I’m fiercely independent, yet there’s a little girl inside of me that desperately wants someone to take care of her. And today I know that someone is also me.
My visions for this time in my life never included coparenting or crutches, I never wanted to be the only person I could rely on.
I question why I chose this life.
When I watch dyl sleep I wonder the same for him.
What lessons do I have in front of me?
When do I get to flow? Does it ever get less difficult? Maybe this is easy? Will I ever forgive myself for the last 5 years? Or is it 6? Hell, I think it might be more like 8.
Where does the time go?
I know my sadness means I’m looking backwards. I’ve never been an anxious person, I’m either in the now or lost in my history.
It is time to write a new chapter.
I have moments when I’m frozen in fear. I’ve been here before, on the brink of awesomeness, and I’ve caved. Reverted back to a scared little girl, old habits that were comfortable.
It is in this space I’ve bounced around, seemingly aimlessly, doing some sort of growth cha-cha.
The time is now.
When I get that unfamiliar anxious feeling I tell myself to “keep going”.
I will not stop this time. I will not sit down and pause. I will not retreat.
My eyes fill with tears as I attempt to quell the lonely pity party of fear, stagnation, and regret that my old patterns pull me to.
Dylan asks “mama, why do you cry so much?”
“I’m sad” I reply.
And I take a deep breath and forge ahead, making new tracks, down the road less traveled.
I can’t help but think of Dr Seuss and Oh the places you’ll go!
One foot in front of the other, we are walking through that door.