The speakers and panelists of the She Recovers LA event were amazing. But it was the attendees – the women who had come to do what Tara Mohr described as “the ‘women’s work’ of our particular moment in history” – that kept the woo woo buzzing around me and through me and left me a little strung out in the best way possible.
Single mothers make magic happen every day while the world remains unimpressed and forever worshipping at the altar of “rugged individualism,” an altar that inherently excludes mothers who are always a plus-one package.
Botox was like a shot of tequila for my face – it artificially and temporarily smoothed out my external edges. But now my outsides most definitely do not match my insides. My face displays a false calm while my mind continues to buzz. Serenity eludes me.
Asking for help is the hardest rule to break. What I know now is that asking for help is not an act of weakness and selfishness; instead it is the ultimate act of selflessness and self-care. It is only by recognizing our own needs that we can truly see the needs of others.
For years I saw parenting as a care taking business – a transaction. I was supposed to keep the children safe. They were supposed to provide me with my life’s purpose. And this was all part of a rinse and repeat cycle, going back generations.
I’ve come to know and believe that each of us has a soul message that only we can share, and if we don’t discover this message, the world misses out on a beautiful offering.
If your mama has passed away in the more recent past, I want you to know that I am very, very sorry. I remember some of what you are feeling, and most of what you are trying not to feel.
Show me a woman in her late 30s/40s, whose life partnership is at least a decade old and whose kid(s) is out of diapers, and I’ll show you a woman who is about to say, “Wait. What?” to her life.
All things being equal, I would choose weapons of war over tools of recovery. Every time. But my weapons of war (my will, my way, my vision) created unintended carnage. Eventually, after years of lobbing bombs to make things “right,” I could no longer ignore the barren landscape I was living in.