Reflections

Do you ever have a moment of clarity, where it becomes impossible to deny how incredibly hard you are on yourself?

I had that moment today, as I had a conversation with a treasured friend.

Why I cannot remain silent..

Much of this blog has been dedicated to my own personal journey–but I would be remiss if I did not speak about the toll that the latest political current events are taking on my life.

I am an educated, well-informed, white American woman.

It is because I am an educated, well-informed, white American woman that I say: I cannot sit back, in the comfort of my own, middle class home, and watch while scores of people are blatantly discriminated against. I have privilege–and it is my duty to recognize that and speak out against those who are being racist, prejudice, and ignorant. I cannot normalize it.

About the last month

I’ve written over the last month that I am having a really hard time. I’ve been down…dark, and depressed. I’ve been fighting bouts of anxiety and nervousness, and stomach issues that are a result of all of it, but also make all the stress and nervousness worse.

I have been feeling trapped. And stuck. And hopeless.

With insight, comes change

On Thursday, still reeling from my latest EMDR session, I wrote all about the overwhelming and messy feelings that I was struggling with. It was an emotionally charged post and, un-shockingly, one that made me realize just how hard I can be on myself.

You see, I was so ashamed of myself for realizing that I rely on my failures to shape the person that I am. I was ashamed that I rely on other people’s opinion of me when setting my own self-worth. And, I was ashamed when I realized how strongly judgmental I am…no, not of others, but of myself.

5 Things that Improved My Anxiety

I am not “cured” of anxiety–I have my ups and downs, and I probably always will. However, over the course of the last six months I have discovered some powerful things to help me deal and control my mood and stressors. 

Fiercely loved

I want to be fiercely loved.

I need to be wanted and needed and held and cherished.

I need connection and intimacy—knowing glances and unsaid words.

I want to be fiercely loved.

The Power of Exercise

I have never, ever loved to workout. There is no exercise that I have ever really enjoyed doing over the years. I have read, for years, about the power of exercise and mental health, but I never made that a priority.

Before I had my first child, this was not really a problem for me. I was not so focused on being healthy as I was skinny. And, up until my first pregnancy, I was skinny without much effort. 

What kind of mother do I want to be?

I have spent a lot of this last week watching the Democratic National Convention. Many of the speakers spoke to my heart and my values, but I found myself moved by a few speeches more than the others.

Last night, my daughter decided she wanted to stay up and watch Hillary Clinton speak. She is seven, and the other night we were discussing what the DNC was, and who the two presidential candidates were. She sat back and said, “I think we should vote for the girl candidate…you know what?! I can’t think of ANY girl presidents…!” That is when my sweet girl had her first realization that, not only has there never been a female president, there have actually been people who think a woman could not get the job done.

When saying “No” wasn’t enough

This week, the internet erupted in chatter and condemnation of Brock Turner, a champion swimmer from Stanford University who was convicted of raping an unconscious woman after a party. The judge, disgustingly, ruled that this young man–this rapist–will be serving less than six months in jail.

This is not justice. Not for the victim. Not for women anywhere.

After the ruling came out, the victim released a brutally honest statement to her perpetrator.  I came across this on Facebook, as I was scrolling through, and I soon found myself pulled into her story, with tears streaming down my face, aching for her and the injustice of the entire situation.

Sexual assault. It happens. Unfortunately, it happens far too often and, as women, we are often taught that we cannot speak out and share the terrible things that happened to US…because there is so often judgement about what we “could have done” to stop it.

Twice in my life, I have been sexually assaulted. I read once that children who have been sexually abused are more likely to be sexually assaulted as adults. For me, unfortunately, this is a truth.