All. The. Feels.
Each week I open a fresh, new blank page, pause and dive in.
I always loved to write
One day, I’ll be writing to you from a desk sitting in front of a big window overlooking a body of water. This is what I always envisioned for myself.
Writing came natural to me. I started keeping a journal when I was in second grade, and I would write a sentence or two in giant letters.
As I got older it wasn’t a daily thing, but I honed into language arts and would devour every poetry lesson or story writing assignment. In high school I would always choose those creative electives any chance I could. It was the one place I felt…comfortable in. Safe.
It wasn’t until the other night that I realized – some of my favorite movies that I keep in rotation have more significance than I originally thought. I was watching Little Women, ironically one my mother and I would watch together, often.
Listening to Winona Ryder as Jo, express how frustrated she was in her life and that she just needed to spread her wings and find space and do something great – it was like an epiphany. No fucking wonder.
All these movies I keep in rotation are all…me. Mind. Fucking. Blown.
I always wanted to go away somewhere and come back different. I knew I was meant for more, but I didn’t know what it was – and I haven’t reached it.
I feel like I am on the precipice of something amazing – I can’t taste it; I can’t see it…but I feel it around me.
In the last five years that I’ve been on my own, I felt very much isolated. Unsupported. Without a map.
I feel like I spent the second half of my marriage trying to escape – to be alone; ironically now, I would give anything not to be.
Let me back up a second, I am the happiest I have ever been in my entire life – but I’d really love to be holding my best friend’s hand, as we navigate change together.
In the past two years I have let go of so many relationships that no longer served me. It was fucking hard. I have learned to navigate solo – being both the one holding the GPS and driving, at the same time.
I released a podcast this week on “My Why” – basically the real deal.
I started writing this blog nearly nine years ago following the death of my mother. I didn’t know then, what I know now – I was being released.
I knew at the time, my whole life was turned upside down. I had just had my youngest daughter, I was losing my job, and my mom passed away suddenly. I relied on her a lot emotionally.
It wasn’t until years later as I was trying to set and define my own boundaries within my relationship (at the time), and my job, and then made the decision to leave, that I began the darkest decent that I have ever experienced before – and then as I began to rebuild, that I was able to fully understand the pattern, people, and habits I needed to break in order to move forward.
It was really fucking hard, I won’t lie.
Our relationship with our mother is the foundation of all our relationships – think about yours and see how it emulates across your life. During this painful process, I was able to comprehend just how much we impact our kids, I’m talking way beyond the surface.
In short (until the book is done) – I reminded my mother of herself. It was both a blessing and a curse. It wasn’t until I’ve done my own work that I realized how ill my mother really was. Beyond the narcissistic behavior, I would almost 100% assume she was bipolar and had been suffering from depression for decades. She hated herself.
Everyone loved her.
One of my beta readers gave me some feedback when they read the second draft of my book “your mother seemed like a monster, I would’ve been terrified”. I was.
I didn’t speak of the abuse from my mother until I was 39 – he gasped when I told him.
Now, at 42 nearly 43 – speaking my whole truth out loud, feels both freeing, and frightening. I feel like I’m at the starting line in a race. All my courage is sitting right under my rib cage, I might vomit before the gun goes off – hold tight we’re about to start.
Even today, as I am just beginning to share this, I’ve only really ever told a handful of people, maybe. I knew if I was going to share it in my book (and I feel it’s important that I do), I needed to tell someone close to me who had no idea, of any of the abuse.
Getting the courage to do this, may have been just as hard as it was exiting my marriage. But I did it.
I was sexually abused by a family member for several years, and I was too afraid to tell my mom. Right to the day she died, I never did.
Carrying a wealth of fear and shame throughout my life, tucked away so deep, and masked with a smile, the eight-year-old version of Laura, just wanted someone to love her.
I shared my truth, and now I can move forward.
There are so many connections in life, if you slow down enough to stop and notice. We can see so much of ourselves in our children. In my case, it wasn’t so desirable – but you have the power to do better.
I have the opportunity to do better. We have the ability to break generations of abuse.
From the moment I met my youngest daughter Evelyn, I saw so much of myself. And especially now, as she’s becoming herself it’s like watching my heart on a screen in front of me, and I observe with full awareness.
Stating the obvious – but our children are sponges. I have shared every tool I’ve been taught with my children as they are going through things. It’s just something they can put in their toolbox, and one day they may have it at the ready if they choose.
My why was to break the cycle. To do better for myself so that I could do better for my children. To love myself, so that I can give more love to the people I care about.
Evelyn had a meltdown one morning this week over her outfit for school. It was getting late and I was definitely frustrated as I have my mornings timed perfectly to get all the things done.
She started to meltdown. I gave her some space and then came back, pulled her in close and said, “what can I do to help right now?”
“I just need some love right now; I need someone to love me.”
Okay, that I can do.
I took some deep breaths with her as her tears slowed down to a trickle, and I hugged her with intention. Giving love to myself at the same time, this is what heals us.
I’m thinking of you, and sending you love.
Xo,
Laura
