Spreading my wings...

I feel like I’ve been in a tucked away in a tight little chrysalis for some time now. Mostly of my own doing, I might add. It’s been cozy in here. 

Safe. Protected. Quiet. 

Each time I want to climb out and spread my wings, something seems to come along and I quickly retreat back into the space of security and warmth.

 

Here’s the thing. I’ve occasionally hidden on purpose, and I have also transformed in many ways. This has been a place of respite, and I’ve used it to reflect and evolve. I’ve grown quite fond of the cocoon and I don’t think I’m the only one who’s been there. Am I right? 

 

As we all begin to slowly emerge and return to “normal” again, I don’t think we can help but know we have all changed, some for the better, some not so much. We were forced into a time where we had to slow down and reevaluate what our world and our lives look like. 

 

Personally, I have been challenged in many ways. I was stalled and scared. The unknown had become the known. Our fears had come to fruition. All the makings of a Hollywood blockbuster had come to life in front of us. 

 

“The Virus.” 

 

All during a time when we had a lunatic for a president. But I digress.

 

As a full-fledged adult, I was frightened. Thinking of my children, their own fears and their limited life experience now shrouded with the terror of the unknown, a killer disease that morphed constantly. The “what ifs” creeping in. Although they both seemed to fair well, I can’t help but think that a profound sense of doom lingered in their minds as it did mine. Along with losing parts of their child and young adulthood. 

 

As we waited and listened, we banded together. And, we wore masks, and stayed inside and washed our groceries and countertops and fingers with Clorox wipes. And we prayed to a God I don’t even believe in, for a cure…and answers. 

 

And then, like a gift from the heavens, we got it! A vaccine. Not a cure, but a way to stave off the potentially deadly virus that has taken over 674,000 American lives, 4.5 million worldwide to date…

 

When I got vaccinated, a sense of relief along with the MRNA poured through my body, and I felt hopeful for the first time in a while. I felt free to move about the cabin, the fasten seatbelt light switched off. 

 

Maybe you know this about me, maybe you don’t. I used to fancy myself and eternal optimist. A Pollyanna of sorts, really. But I am a realist at heart. I don’t sugar coat or deny the truth, but on the contrary, tend to spin into the space of catastrophizing first, THEN I try to find the positive. When you have OCD, that’s a really common coping method. Initially imagine the worst-case scenario, then nothing can be as bad as you’ve imagined, right? Meh… 

 

Then, there are the folks who’ve moved through life acting as if this whole Pandemic was nothing to worry about. These people believing and regurgitating information that has been spoon fed to them from people with ill-intentions. Those who want to see a country in constant chaos. Tornados of conspiracy theories, each one crazier than the next, helped to fuel the fires of division and uncertainty. People screaming “I won’t live in fear” while packing an AR-15 and stocking up on ammo. Anti-abortion folks holding signs at protests saying “My body, my choice” fail to see the absolute irony and contradiction of their word choices. 

 

But here’s the thing with living in that world of denial; you never quite process the reality and the effect it has on ourselves, and our society. However, you approached the past 18 or so months, if you’re reading this, you survived. 

 

Now, we are at a crossroads again. We are living among one another, but still very divided. We have ended friendships and relationships and cut ties with people. We’ve scrutinized our morals and our values, and decided who is worthy of our time, energy and effort. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. But what is bad is we’ve lost our ability to compromise, many of us with good reason. We are exhausted. We have “compassion fatigue.” We are so.over.it. 

 

We can fool ourselves into thinking things are fantastic, terrific, even perfect in some ways. But, that’s not real. It’s the easiest way to avoid dealing with issues that are plaguing the country, and the world. Issues that affect/effect all of us. Walking around with rose-colored glasses constantly is a disservice to others, and ourselves. As hard as it is, we need to start opening up the dialogue. Conversations NEED to happen in order to progress. We NEED to feel heard. We NEED to feel seen. 

 

And, on the same note…we need to listen. 

 

We NEED to create open discourse and pause long enough to listen to those who oppose our views, and we need to ask “why?” Many of our opinions are shaped by our personal experiences, some by the experiences of others, loved ones and strangers alike. But the bottom line is digging deep enough to figure out where these ideas stem from. Be curious, not reactive. 

 

I’m not asking you to be a doormat. In fact, quite the opposite. Stand tall and firm in your beliefs and opinions. Continue to learn as much as you can and figure out the best way to share that information. Talking is everything. 

 

Does everyone deserve your time and space? Hell no. Some causes are lost. If you’ve created boundaries to protect yourself from toxicity, keep them. I don’t even think you need to “forgive and forget.” 

 

I think moving on takes on a variety of shapes but holding onto anger doesn’t serve us. It CAN motivate us, so that’s a plus. But stewing in it holds you up, blocks the energy you need to move forward. Sometimes we just have to accept things that are hard and uncomfortable. Redirect that emotion and let it OR them go. 

 

We spend a huge amount of wasted time arguing on social media, with both strangers and friends. I am absolutely, 100% guilty of this offense. It’s futile and never ends well. I am trying my best to stop. I have found that the “block” button works wonders!

 

I used to be really good at remembering that people develop their approach to life based on experience. I used to be patient, understanding, even. But, in recent years, I’ve not been so patient or understanding. I need to work on that again: considering where and how other people develop their ideas and opinions. I used to be able to pause, and introduce another idea, to plant a seed, “food for thought” as they say. You can do that in a face to face conversation. Not so much in an argument on the Internet. 

 

As an expert in my field of communications, here’s the number one rule to remember: face to face communication is the MOST effective form to convey a message. The second, a phone call, and the last is written. 

 

Writing is subjective to every reader. Tone, inflection, and meaning are all open to interpretation. As a writer, I can tell you with absolute certainty, what is put on the page (or even a short post on social media) is easily misconstrued. Meaning can be lost in context. Ideas disappear into a blur on the page…

 

So, where do I go from here? 

 

I gently tug at the silk thread, deliberate, slow. It opens up and I pop my head out, carefully scanning the space that surrounds me. Is it safe? Is it secure? Will I be able to find the peace I had in this quiet space outside of here? 

 

The truth is, I don’t know. I can’t stop the world from moving, nor can I expect other people to share the same sense of awakening I’ve experienced in the past year and a half. I can only manage my own feelings, and I hope that my words and my actions match the direction I am headed, which is a space of enlightenment. 

 

And if I can help and guide folks through this challenging terrain, then I’ve accomplished the goal I set for myself. 

 

I remain steadfast in my desire to be an agency of change, but I want to remain self-aware. I want to help others. I want to teach my children to stay strong, resilient, courageous, empathetic, kind. 

 

I want to be all of those things. 

 

My eyes no longer sport rose colored glasses. I’ve swapped them for my progressive bi-focals which give me clear vision and direct insight into reality in all its ugliness and beauty. 

 

When the cocoon is fully open, a jagged line will form showing the torn apart chrysalis that once enveloped me, keeping me safe and secure in a time of chaos. Instead of gently pulling at the silken thread, I will tug away until it's ripped wide open, freeing me.

 

I feel determined. I feel agitated. I feel uncertain. I feel creative. I feel unbound. I feel hope. 

I feel ready.

 

I am spreading my wings. 

This blog post is dedicated to my little brother, Ryan, who would have turned 45 today. I hope he's spread his wings and is flying without fear, sadness or despair. RIP little brother. You were truly loved. 

 Happy Spring!

Here we are, in the midst of a pandemic and I'm one vaccine in with my second dose on deck in two days. What a year we have had...Am I right? 

It's my birthday month, and I'll be 49-years-old. It's hard to say we "lost" a year, but it really feels like it in many ways. 

But, we've also gained so much. In this time, I've become more creative and written more than I have in some time. 

We also elected a new president, and I can't express how much joy and relief I am experiencing. As an empath, I felt the pain and distress of our collective consciousness for four LONG years. Coming out of it, there is some residual stress. We are not out of this space but there is hope, and that is comforting. 

This morning, I read a friend's post on FB. It was a 100 word flash memoir, and I submitted a short piece. Who knows if it will be published, but it always feels good to get my creative juices flowing, even if the writing is difficult. Difficult in the sense of the topic, not so much the crafting. 

But, it brings me to this. 

I watched a movie on Saturday called "Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always."

It was about a 17-year-old seeking an abortion. I'd seen an interview with writer/director Eliza Hittman, where she discussed her perspective on making a film about the always controversial topic. She summed it up in saying that she wanted to tell a story from a woman's point of view, and how difficult it was to get a legal abortion in 2020. Most of the previous films were told from a male perspective, usually when abortion was illegal, over 50 years ago.  

So, this got me thinking. And it made me sad. It brought back memories of my own experience as a pregnant 16-year-old. Something not uncommon for many of us. And, I refuse to feel shame for it. Not anymore. 

The stigma attached still holds true. Words like slut, whore, loose, cheap...they are still tossed around casually, always with blame placed on the woman or girl. Never the man...And, men seem to be the most vocal about regulating women's reproductive rights. 

Who's responsible? The answer is never simple. The complicated history of any relationship, experience or lapse in judgment could result in an unwanted pregnancy. The key word here is "unwanted." And, does it really matter, anyway? Again...complicated. 

In my case, I was with a much older man and I felt pressure to please him; to have sex even though I didn't want to, because I thought it was what I had to do, as if I had no choice in the matter. And in many ways, I didn't. 

When I got pregnant I broke up with him, never telling him the truth because I feared him. I did. I was afraid of so many things and having a baby with a man I feared wasn't going to happen. I knew that much.

My story is different because I was incredibly lucky to have two supportive parents who honored my decision to terminate my pregnancy. I know it was hard for them, and I will always be grateful they were in my corner without judgment. 

That's not the case for many teenagers who find themselves in the same predicament. 

The movie had me reeling, going back 32 years to a place of confusion, sadness, and grief. 

The thing is...I knew better. I wasn't a virgin when this happened. In fact, I had been on birth control, but stopped taking it because I DIDN'T want to have sex with anyone after I broke up with a previous long-term boyfriend. 

Instead, I quickly found myself in a new relationship with this older man. I didn't ask him to wear a condom, and he didn't offer. 

I have been in therapy for many years, and I've worked through this issue. But, the memory is always there. And when I watch a film like this, it resurfaces and reminds me of the time in my life that was so messy and depressing. 

In the aftermath, I struggled with my identity and my purpose, wandering through my life aimlessly, still making poor decisions for many years. Having an abortion wasn't one of them. 

I wasn't ready to be a mother then, at almost seventeen. 

I wasn't ready to be tied to a man who was dangerous and controlling. 

I wasn't ready. 

There are people who will call me a baby killer, and scream I'm heading straight to the bowels of hell for fiery eternal damnation...it's a good thing I'm agnostic and don't believe in that crap. Those are also the same people who think blowing up abortion clinics is doing "God's work." 

The hypocrisy, astounding. Go figure. 

I'm opening up this conversation because for far too long, we've been shamed. 

Women. 

Girls. 

We've been shamed and told it's our fault. How we dress. What we say. We are temptresses. How dare we "tease." We were asking for it...

Enough. Enough. Enough.

This decision was not easy, but it was the clear choice. I will not speak for other women, but I can safely postulate choosing an abortion wasn't easy for them either. 

This subject is hot, it's controversial. I get that. I've never shied away from my truth. I've always tried to be honest in hopes that my story will give some comfort to those who aren't so open to share. I get it. We all have our reasons.

I've always maintained that living in this truth, this honest space, isn't easy, but it's the only way I can live. It isn't for everyone...and that's okay. 

Do I regret having an abortion at sixteen? No. What I wish is that I never had to make that choice. That I had been strong enough to say no. That I had used birth control. That I had a different vision of my sexuality then. That I understood relationships and men better. That I wasn't so hell bent on growing up so fast. That I had paused. That I understood my value and my worth. That I didn't equate that value with how many men found me attractive, loved me, wanted me...

I knew the power I had, I just didn't know how to harness it. I knew from a very young age how men saw me. It started with comments like "you're going to be so pretty when you're grown up." I wish I hadn't put so much stock in those words, because for a long time, I let that define me. 

So here I am, nearly 49-years-old. I'm looking at life through a very different lens. Even as I write this, it is with some caution. Because, if I put this out there I open myself up for a myriad of responses. 

Judgment comes in many forms. Usually, projection is the leading force. If you're still with me and reading this, here's what I ask: 

Sit with this for a minute. If you've never experienced an unwanted pregnancy, sit with the idea. Pause and just imagine what that might feel like. The internal struggle. The loneliness. The pain. It's all right there.

Growth, understanding, and change happen in that space of discomfort. It hurts. It feels unpleasant. But, it's necessary in order to begin to alter the way we think about anything, really. Abortion is just one of the difficult issues we must confront. 

A wise woman (my dear sister) once told me "Everyone has a story." If we can pause long enough to remember that instead of having knee-jerk reactions, we can start the process of acceptance, understanding and love WITHOUT judgment.

There is light as we move through a pandemic that has left us all beyond fatigued. 

We are spent. 

With Spring upon us, we have a renewed sense of hope. Let's use this awakening as a moment to reflect on the past, and come into the future with forgiveness and love. 

Let empathy and kindness guide us. 

Leave judgment behind and let love be the force with which we connect.