Friday, February 24, 2017

V.I.P.

A few nights ago I went to a concert at 8:30pm.  I suddenly felt like I was in my 20's again.  Normally I am winding down from a long day of clients, ubering my kids, getting groceries, or tending to some need somewhere.  8:30 is when I put on my PJ’s and try to shut my brain down from doing more things on the task list.  But that night I was looking for a parking garage in downtown Nashville so I could get to the Dan+Shay show at The Ryman with my husband.

I picked up my VIP sticker and Todd escorted me backstage.  I walked behind the curtain of the stage and had to catch my breath thinking about all the legends who have taken these same steps.  I’ve made that walk behind the curtain so many times, but I notice these moments and appreciate them more now. My twenty-something self who had been there before had no clue yet.  I stood in the balcony and watched the guys sing their hearts out and tell stories of how they came to Nashville with all their hopes and dreams, and now they’re here performing at the Mother Church to a sold-out crowd.  I heard my husband share his pride and excitement for how far they have come. I saw, felt, and experienced all this at a time when I would have normally been in my pajamas already.  I was thankful to feel all this again with new 38 year old eyes and ears.  I was sad about moments I had missed prior to this night (more on that later).  I appreciate it now more than ever. Fast forward to the next day…

I was sitting in the youth group parking lot.  I just dropped the boys off but was going to have to get Woody again to go to a soccer practice in 30 minutes, and then pick him back up an hour later, along with getting Carl from youth group (Did you follow that? Me neither).  So I had short spurts of time in between to kill – not quite enough for Target or Costco, but just enough to feel irritated there was nothing I could do with that time.  So I ate my dinner out of Tupperware in a parking lot with my window down - alone.  While I felt sorry for myself, I looked down and realized I had a giant hole in the crotch of my jeans (thankfully not my new grown-ass woman jeans – read that blog post here).  Awesome. Most likely I had shown all my clients my leopard print underwear that day.  I like to think I sit professionally, but no, usually cross-legged, prime position for panty peeking.  As I teetered between shame and laughing my butt off, a couple high school kids walked by and said, “woah, hey hot mom.” Cue internal bursts of worthiness sunshine: I’ve made it - I’m a hot mom! I cannot tell you how much the reality of my life became clear in that 5 minute window.  I’m in a parking lot eating my chicken fried rice with a hole in my pants and being hit on by teenagers. Just the night before I was a VIP backstage.  Somehow I still found a way to appreciate this moment too.  It’s because of the “liminal space” I’ve been in. More on this later too.  Now let’s rewind to about 4 years ago…

I was not a mom yet - a mom in my heart but not in my home.  I was grieving.  I had also made it to the point in life where all my over-achieving, urgencies, tasks, relentless exercising, and work had knocked me down. I realized I wasn’t superwoman. I crashed. I had panic attacks. I couldn’t get out of bed. I hurt all over. I cried a lot. I was not who I remembered being. I didn’t necessarily want to go back to all those old things, but I was also not who I wanted to be yet.  I was freaking stuck. I stopped going to concerts. I stopped enjoying life. Not because I didn’t want to, but I was literally frozen in my pain. Stress and grief are bitches, people.  They will try to take your life away from you. Thankfully I am getting mine back with Jesus, yoga, meditations, stillness, new perspectives, and good neurotransmitter boosters. And counseling! (Counselors need counseling too. That’s how we can help you! We are people too.  I can’t wait to write that blog post). I am also a big believer that no time is ever wasted.  I recently read about “liminal space.” Author and theologian Richard Rohr describes this space in his book Everything Belongs.  Liminal comes from the Latin word limina which means threshold.  This place of waiting is a “unique spiritual position where human beings hate to be but where God is always leading them. It is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else.  It is when you are finally out of the way.  It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer.  If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run…anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing.” Learning to be uncomfortable and trust there is something new coming is the most tortuous and beautiful thing.  I have hurts and resentments from this gap of time in my life.  But I know for sure it has made me more awake. 


I know I am still in this space unfolding into the woman I want to be.  But at present I have holy jeans, fancy solo parking lot dinners, and an occasional backstage pass.  And that’s enough right now. I can be right here and be thankful for all of it. I notice Todd’s accomplishments and feel so proud of him.  I dance and sing.  I am thankful that my children have a safe and fun place to go on Wednesday nights while I take a deep breath.  I laugh at my imperfections. I am learning to accept all the realities of life – the inconvenience of my schedule being ruled by teenage boys and the opportunity to hold my husband’s hand at a crosswalk in downtown Nashville after a show.  I try to notice each moment now and do not take it for granted. I put my sticker on my steering wheel so I keep Very Important Perspective no matter where I'm going - concerts, soccer practice, work, date, wherever. I am every beautiful woman – yesterday, today, and tomorrow. 




Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Baby Got Back

I had an unexpected break from work today.  People were sick and cancelled their appointments, so I looked at my afternoon and wondered what to do with myself.  My husband is out of town for work.  My kids are at school and basketball games.  I spend much of my time tending to others’ needs, so I usually have to get my magnifying glass to find pockets of minutes in my iCal to do something just for me. But St. Valentine just dropped a big block of hours in my day.  I felt pulled to the mall. I never go to the mall.  In fact I don’t like it, but today it felt like where I was supposed to go.  I needed jeans, but I hate shopping for them. I decided to "try on" a new perspective, and it was so healing. I realized today was about loving my body.

The relationship I have with my butt is an ever-growing (no pun intended) connection.  I started “filling out” at the age of 11 – but not where I wanted to. I had to wear these really tight pants as part of my uniform at my first job at McDonald’s, and a trucker said to my 16 yr old self, “You fill out those pants real nice, darlin’.” I felt disgusting.  A family member told me I needed a wide-load sign on my butt.  True story.  It was said as a joke, but a 14 yr old girl does not find this funny.  I began to make my own big butt jokes, because hey, I want to put myself down before you do.  I started diets…or just didn’t eat. My face and waist were bones, but that backside kept her curves.  She wasn’t budging.  When Sir Mix-A-Lot came out with “Baby Got Back” I felt like it was my anthem.  I acted like it didn’t bother me when someone said about me, “Isn’t she a little too thick to be Miss Teen of Oklahoma?” But I died inside. And I quickly responded, “It was a scholarship and recognition pageant – you have to be SMART to win!”  I thought I was somehow putting him in his place, but really I was just agreeing I was thick but had other qualities to cover up for it.  In a singing competition I was told not to wear jeans on stage because, “You’re a little too curvy.” I’ve got more stories like this. And the thing is I WASN’T EVEN OVERWEIGHT! But my butt and people’s opinions of it made me feel like I was as big as Texas.  Even as I write this I am crying a little for that young beautiful girl in me who thought her ass was her identity and that it was too much.

Shopping for jeans was the absolute worst. I suspect it is for many females. But when you are 5’3” with an hourglass figure, there are a variety of problems. The waistline sticks out, you have to hem them for your short legs, if the waist fits then your butt looks giant…er.  As an adolescent I would cry at the Buckle store every mother-loving time.  I just went in and self-proclamied, “I need jeans for a big butt.” Here’s what happened today.  I walked right in and proudly asked for help  and said, “It’s always been so hard for me to find jeans for my body shape. I have a small waist and these really rocking curves. Can you help me?”  She smiled and was so excited.  She brought me 10 pairs to try on. I felt like a queen. She just kept bringing jeans and asking me what I thought about them.  I did not put my body down one time. I said things like, “these don’t accentuate the right spots.” I didn’t blame my body. I blamed the jeans and put those back.  And I found my jeans. I danced in the mirror. I celebrated this booty-ful woman I saw.   

Those stories from men in my past told my little girl self a story about her worth and beauty.  I grieved with her.  I showed compassion to her. And now I am telling her a new story – that I am a grown-ass woman who has her back now.  I won’t let those stories be hers anymore.  We do what highlights our beauty. We ask for help. I don’t hide her or shame her.  I put her in new jeans and remind her that even these clothes and how she looks in them aren’t a measure of her worth. When I changed perspective, I found the jeans.  I rescued her. I found mySELF.