Lately I've come to a pretty big revelation in my life. Ready? I gotta be me. That's it. It seems pretty simple but to me it's kind of earthshattering. I've tried so hard to fit into a mold that I think people want me to be that I'm exhausted most of the time. I'm quirky, I talk a lot and I talk fast. Sean said to me one time, "Jen, you're the most alive person I know." And I'm slowly coming to the realization that that's okay. Do I want to be cool? Sure. Do I want to be calm? Absolutely. But, I'm not. I used to think that growing up was letting go of all. Now I think maybe it's embracing all that you are, good and bad and being okay with that.
Parenting is hard. It is literally the hardest thing I've ever done. And I've been pretty open when I'm struggling. I need that. I need someone to look at me and say, "I've been there". "I yelled at my kids today too!" "I messed up too!" It honestly feels like my life has been saved a little bit in that moment. I have these people around me who don't share what they're going through. They put on this cool exterior when I know they're drowning just like I am. And I've tried to go down that road. AND IT'S NOT ME. I gotta know someone is down here in the trenches with me getting just as dirty and tired and frustrated and blessed as I am.
Grieving is hard. There is two other families in my town who suffered a loss very close to when I did. The women are different than me. They prefer to stay home and be alone in their loss. Let me just say: There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. But then there's nothng wrong with my need to be around people. If I'm not, then I start to feel like the weight of my loss will crush me. For so long, I looked to them and thought they were suffering "correctly" and I wasn't. I laugh. A lot. I have to find the humor in a situation or I will lose it. And that won't be pretty. Again, another thing I thought I was doing wrong. But I am slowly coming to realize that my sense of humor is a gift from God.
I can still hear Sean's words in my head. I think that's pretty great. I can pretty much look at any situation and know exactly what he would say. There was one day when he looked right in my eyes and he said, "Why is that you're always the one who's wrong and they're right?" I think about that A LOT since he died. Why are they right and I'm wrong? Can't we just be going through life differently? Can't we both be right with our own distinct personalities?
This life is hard. A rose garden we definitely were not promised.
I think what it is is that I'm tired of feeling bad about myself. It's like this ache in my heart that I'm finally ready to let go of.