Who I Am at 34
Ten years ago my Dad wrote me a twenty page hand written, barely legible letter and sent it to me in El Salvador. His spelling sucked and he was far from perfect, but he sure knew how to love and he loved a lot of things and a lot of people in life very deeply.
Five years ago he crashed his motorcycle and now he lives trapped in time. . . trapped in memories.
I took some time for Me today on the day I was birthed to do some things that make me feel free and connected and light and human.
I also sat quietly this morning with a special set of custom made mala beads from Charm and Magic and my journal and breathed into my being in that way that allows the noise to burn away and your truths start to speak to you. I heard some things. I heard my Dad telling me not to worry so much and to just do it. I saw him smiling and talking to people (talking to everyone) so carefree and full of joy. I heard that messy is okay. Perfect isn’t possible or necessary or authentic or interesting. Living in your power is a beautiful thing that doesn’t have to be loud or bright, but can be if you want it to. I’m not one that enjoys being the center of attention, but I do appreciate being seen. My fear of attracting “too much” attention has historically caused me to dim the way I dress, the things I do, and the things I say. I’m letting go of that. In the past, I’ve been intimated by women who are powerful, strong, outspoken, naked, open with their art, brilliant with their words and their clothes and their bodies and their souls. . . and now I’m not. Now, I want more women like that around me.
34 is nice. I’m not embarrassed by my grey hairs (or arm hair) or wrinkles as I used to be. I don’t feel defined by the changing shape of my body or beauty or beliefs or lack there of or the things you know or don’t know about my resume and that’s lightened my load a lot. I feel more confident than ever, yet I’m way more of a mess in public and that’s really a much freer way to live so I’m grateful for that too. My confidence doesn’t look like lipstick, tight pants or a high paying job, but rather the ability to cry openly about how much this summer sucked if you ask me and not to care about how you react to that. My confidence doesn’t look like published writing or framed art or well-behaved children, but rather sharing stuff that’s unrefined and raw without worry, asking for help and paying attention as best as I can and sometimes sucking at that and then finding ways to forgive myself. I used to not be able to forgive myself. It takes practice and it’s important and it’s actually the only way to be better Mom. I take stuff SO much less personally- both the compliments and the criticisms- that’s one of the best things I’ve learned to do.
I don’t worry as much about saying the wrong thing because I know I’ll often say the wrong thing, but I really care about growth so I’m always listening and learning even when it causes me shame and discomfort. I know that if I rub people the wrong way they will leave for the right reasons and I’m okay with that.
I’ve had two babies and sometimes I work out and sometimes I don’t and sometimes I eat well and sometimes I don’t and I’m so very sick and tired of this rhetoric around post Partum women that somehow we have to explain how our body got to be the way it is today. Whether it’s bigger or smaller or tighter or my tata’s are still in my toddler’s mouth, why is this such a topic that needs to be talked about in any tone that sounds like explaining oneself or justifications? We have no idea what people have been through and it’s such a sin to judge them in one fell swoop based on the perceptions of our limited minds and own stories of suffering. I can now lift my shirt up (by accident or on purpose) and I can feel the bearskin on my billowing belly touching the cool air and it reminds me I carried my babies and sometimes I see people looking and sometimes I feel people judging and that now has no affect on me whatsoever and I’m grateful for arriving at this place, too.
The world can be so hard on us. It’s exhausting.
I was really gentle with myself today.
I had some quiet moments with my Self this morning, thinking about the things that matter most to me. I said no to other people in order to say yes to myself. That’s taken a lot of practice both to put into action and to do without guilt. I’m pretty good at that now (sometimes) and again, grateful. I had brunch with my husband and then got a tattoo that I’ve wanted for awhile at a carefully curated place and with a (female artist) person that I felt connected to. Then I came home and had some quality time with my little ones outside on the trampoline and on the porch and in the hammock in front of an incredible sunset - looking into their eyes and laughing together, and being easy on them, too, and that was the perfect way to end the day.
I felt really Me today.
In my flow on a Scorpio New Moon. . .
what a gift.