How could I not do this? A simple request from someone who I have never met, but has given me so much. I will probably never meet her (I missed my chance when she came to CT for a book signing, but it was farther away and I had to work) and that is one of my regrets. Glennon, over at Momastery.com, invited us to say hello, to share our stories, and not just any stories. Our messy stories. The ones that hide deep in us, that we may be ashamed of. I was intrigued when I saw the rumblings on the page, I stared when it went live. I wanted to write it all out so badly, but I was scared. I was scared to show my messy. I don’t know why this post, more so than others, really scares me. I have written about divorce, eating disorders, troubled families. This shouldn’t. So I am showing up, world. I am showing up for Glennon, and for you, dearest reader, and for me. It’s time to not be scared. Maybe it is time to be scared, but do it anyways. Monumental things happen when you face your fears.
So, now that I am here, I don’t know where to begin. It would be easier to write about what isn’t messy, because I can’t think of one aspect of my life that isn’t. So I will start with something that made it all make sense and go from there.
I got the sweetest comment on one of my old posts. Girl1’s friend (and my soul son) discovered my blog and had commented on one particular feelsy post about how he was happy that he found my blog. To him, it was nice that someone who was close to him had these same feelings, who have gone through similar things, someone gets it. It almost brought me to tears, because my heart overflowed with love and hope. That someone found my words and it comforted them. The way so many other’s words do for me.
So onto my messy. I am a single parent of 3. That’s pretty messy. I have a job I mostly enjoy with people I adore. And my ex husband is there too, a stone throw away. That’s rather messy, but it is my messy and I deal. I have battled eating disorders, have Celiac’s, Chrones, more allergies than I can tell you. That’s pretty messy. How do you fit all of that into one post? You don’t. Instead I will just tell you about today, because today was very messy.
I woke up to a text from the ex asking if he could come over. Within 5 minutes he was there and the arguing ensued. I knew it was coming, and even what it was about. I had been waiting for this argument for a few days, actually. It was the same song and dance, and although I could spill the details here, I won’t, because it isn’t just my messy. The hard part wasn’t as much the subject, but that it was happening within 5 minutes of my waking up. Then when we left the house for work (separately – he finally got his own car), I went to get my morning coffee and my card was declined. It happens when you are a single parent, raising three kids, and going from a 2 income to 1 income household. It’s the truth, and sometimes it means you don’t get the coffee because your bills got paid on auto draft and you forgot which day it was.
I made 4 different resumes in one and a half hours. I was told 4 different times it wasn’t good enough. Once because it wasn’t bullet pointed. Once because some of the margins were off. Once because I didn’t sell myself enough. The last because I wrote too much. I wanted to take the word doc and erase everything and put one bullet in. That one bullet would say:
- I woke up this morning and fought with my ex-husband for 45 minutes, drove in my car, was denied coffee, still showed up.
- The last bullet should sum it up.
Okay, so maybe two bullets.
I work long days. 9:30 AM to 8 PM days. I sometimes come home and I am lucky if my children aren’t in bed yet. My youngest, I only get her for 3.5 days a week, because we are all about equality.
This is my truth. This is my messy. This is also my beautiful.
I have three beautiful children. I have a job. I have the money to pay my rent and bills (mostly). I have a best friend who sits with me and loves me and lets me do what I need to do. She isn’t just my best friend; she is my soul sister. I have other best friends who will drive long drives to play games with me and my children and who will listen. I have someone who loves me who is on another continent. He doesn’t even get to see me daily, but daily he is there in some form. I am lucky that he lets me love him too.
I feel everything, too much sometimes, but I can feel. I can take it all in, and just love the hell out of it. I can connect with people, with my surroundings, with my life. I have enough, more than enough even, because there is so much love. I love the things I didn’t even know I love yet, but it is there waiting.
I always made my choices, knowing some of them would be harder than others, and there would be struggles at times. I am not giving up. I just woke up. My life may not have the right margins, or it may not be able to be stuck neatly into bullet points, but it is mine. I wouldn’t change my messy beautiful for the world.