I rang in the New Year laying in bed trying to sleep off the sick. There’s been this crud going around and pretty much everyone I know has caught. I managed to drag myself out of it before it got too bad. Not the most auspicious start. It is what it is, though. At least I had Boy with me. I’ll take that.
I spent this past weekend largely in unflattering pajamas watching Game of Thrones. It was exactly what I needed. I have this nasty habit of not taking my foot off the gas, giving myself time to relax, wear unflattering pajamas, and generally take a break from my “go! go! go!” mentality. This is no surprise to at all to anyone who knows me. My inner 5 year old doesn’t understand the concept of relaxation. “I’m bored. Are we there yet?”. It goes pretty well with my all or nothing mentality. If I don’t do something perfectly the first time, I’ll throw my hands in the air, say “fuck it”, and walk away. I *have* to make it a gazillion dance classes a week. If I don’t, I’ve clearly failed my body, I’ll gain 50 pounds, and never wear pretty clothes again. It’s all just a function of my fears. I’m terrified of gaining weight. If I’m fat, I’m not worth loving. I’m terrified of being viewed as lazy. If I don’t accomplish doing laundry, reading 5 books, learning 6 languages and deworming orphans in Somalia in one weekend, I’m not worth loving. If I’m not perfect, I’m not worth loving His voice still rings loud and clear in my head. “You’re not worth loving”. It stings like all hell to write that down. I also know it means I’m doing something right.
I had a dream a few nights ago that my dad walked into my room holding the phone. He said “Will is calling you”. I looked at my dad and confirmed it was who I thought it was. When I took the phone and spoke, there was silence on the other end. It doesn’t take Freud to figure that one out. I woke up more confused than anything. I haven’t heard a peep from him in over 3 years. I’d like to keep it that way. I can pick up books and not finish them. I can let the laundry wait a day. I can fail epically at something new. I can bypass the make up or fancy hair style if I’m not feeling it that day. I can find a balance that works for me, imperfect as it may be. None of that negates my value as a daughter, sister, girlfriend, employee, boss, or woman. I am worth loving. He has neither the right nor the power to make that judgement. As long as I get up, show up, and give it my best, I’m on the right track. The rest out of my hands.
On that note, I’ll have my first guest post up tomorrow. I’m looking forward to sharing someone else’s voice in here.