Thirty Years' War

Have you ever looked in the mirror and mourned your reflection? Have you ever experienced an inner dialogue so painfully critical and unloving that you brought yourself to tears? Have you ever wondered, in panic and fear, if you will ever reconcile with yourself? Have you ever sat in the bathtub, shower on, wishing you could wash away your sorrows and self? Have you ever lived with depression so long that life felt like a sentence, punishment for being? Have you ever longed for relief from yourself? The experience of being this person in this body with these thoughts and feelings makes every time I laugh a miracle. Everyday I am here is a rebellion against an insidious, mocking darkness that constantly threatens to engulf my entire world. There is the me you all see, and there is the me that only I know. She walks through hell and battles ferociously for my soul. One day, when I am better, I will hold that battered, brave, beautiful warrior in my arms and thank her for believing my life is worth saving. Today, she cannot end this 30 year war, and today, she will not let me surrender. Today, she battles for us, and I have an inexplicable faith that she will not lose. That look in her eyes is more than resolve and fury; it is certainty. She is fighting like hell. She will fight to life, and she will not lose.  

Red

And another one bites the dust

Oh, why can I not conquer love?
And I might have thought that we were one
Wanted to fight this war without weapons

And I wanted it, I wanted it bad
But there were so many red flags
Now another one bites the dust
Yeah, let's be clear I'll trust no one

You did not break me
I'm still fighting for peace

I've got thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
I may snap and I move fast
But you won't see me fall apart
'Cause I've got an elastic heart

I've got an elastic heart
Yeah, I've got an elastic heart

And I will stay up through the night
Let's be clear won't close my eyes
And I know that I can survive
I'll walk through fire to save my life

And I want it, I want my life so bad
I'm doing everything I can
Then another one bites the dust
It's hard to lose a chosen one

You did not break me
I'm still fighting for peace

I've got thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
I may snap and I move fast
But you won't see me fall apart
'Cause I've got an elastic heart

I've got thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
I may snap and I move fast
But you won't see me fall apart
'Cause I've got an elastic heart

I've got thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
I may snap and I move fast
But you won't see me fall apart
-Cause I've got an elastic heart

I've got an elastic heart.

-Sia | Elastic Heart

Do I move you?

You wear consistency like a badge of honor. I brandish pride like a weapon. You do not deviate or bend. I am erratical and feeling. I say too much. You never seem to say enough. You are maddening to me mostly because I have no idea if I madden you.

"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference." -Elie Wiesel

Neither alone nor forgotten...

Mother's Day 💐

As both a daughter and a woman, I have given motherhood considerable thought. I have concluded that motherhood is not a function of womanhood. (We can be complete as women without being mothers.) It is also not a function of the ability to birth children. Just like the many paths to becoming a mother, motherhood itself is complex and nuanced; communal and unique; commonplace and miraculous.

It seems to me that motherhood is a state of being that encompasses a lifelong committment to learning, understanding, loving, guiding, and nurturing another soul throughout that soul's journey on Earth. Unlike many human relationships, the relationships between mothers and their children lack even the expectation of reciprocity. Mothers generously give of themselves. They are fully invested in their children, and it is an altruistic endeavor.

I think I am most fascinated by this because mothers are human. They are flawed. They have their own journeys and struggles. They have complex histories and hopeful futures. Mothers have to simultaneously live life and impart instructions for living. Often children lack awareness of and compassion for this feat. Often we forget that mothers are people; they are neither superhumans nor demigods.

And this is the truly remarkable thing. 

As flawed and messy as humanity is and, by extension, mothers are, they still possess this incredibly deep capacity for love, generosity, connection, compassion, teaching, and a myriad of other beautiful, divine things. It is a joy to witness, and I hope it brings you so much continued joy in your motherhood experience. This Mother's Day please channel even an ounce of that love, generosity, and compassion towards yourself. You deserve it. 

Happy Mother's Day! Thank you for being a good human and raising good humans.

April Bookclub!

Our bookclub met today to discuss The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab. I was so excited for this discussion because I LOVED this pick and wanted to unpack my thoughts and feelings about the read as well hear what my friends thought and felt. This was an alfresco meeting with a mural and sunshine as our conversational backdrop, and it was just wonderful. Bookclub, like the act of reading itself, is a salvation and obviously from the gods who answer during day. (Yes, I'm shading Luc [whom I adore, by the way] and referencing Addie LaRue. 😎😜) There are so many activities to enjoy with friends, and diving into the pages, coming up for air, and discussing the experience is among the best. Cheers to more lit reads with lit friends. P.S.: We put the LIT in LITerature. #welit 😉📚

The Lies I Long to Keep

I wish I didn't know what I know. I wish I could refute myself and advocate for you. I wish, but the Knowing is growing more aggressive and persistent. It wants me to understand and accept. It wants to live in my awareness like a welcomed guest even though I resent its presence with every fiber of my being. I want to wish Knowing away, and it refuses to leave me. I never asked you the question because I did not want the confirmation. If that isn't cowardice, I am unsure that I could recognize bravery. I ignored the truth, so I could cling to this breath-to-life fantasy, and my god, it was good. If that isn't foolishness, I am unsure that I could recognize wisdom. That I would reject Knowing to have this lie with you is telling, but I am still not ready to listen.