More everything!
“There is no such thing as a finished life, Kate, Laura said at last. Eventually we get eternity with God. But in the meantime, there is crappy regular stuff that, if we are really lucky, might just feel like a trip to Central Florida.” – From, No Cure for Being Human (And Other Truths I Need to Hear) by Kate Bowler.
The pressure to be:
Better.
Happy.
Thin.
Wealthy.
Ageless.
Pregnant. Or not.
Over it.
Smart.
Available.
Relevant.
A survivor.
Have children that behave, look, and appear a certain way.
Perfect.
I have been asked if I was pregnant when I wasn’t. And received an innocent inquiry about a tummy tuck to relieve lower back pain.
I have been asked if I want Botox while getting my teeth cleaned. And heard about Botox parties at my eye doctor and OBGYN’s office.
I have been told by my dermatologist that my skin is too red and that what I want is for it to “look like hers”…porcelain white, smooth, elastic. So I agreed to a laser treatment which felt like intergalactic rubber bands being snapped at my face at warp speed.
The breasts on the billboard wrapped in a shiny red bow.
The woman who asks if I have gotten my child tested for a common disorder which given my tendency to drift off and talk about a random song lyric in the middle of a conversation, I have too. But, she says with a chuckle, she doesn’t need to test me and also, I have the “hyperactive” variety.
The detoxes, diets, workouts, fasting regimens, supplements, and programs.
It is non-stop.
Never say never. I for one have been dying my hair for a very long time. And I’m certain I’ll be doing more “treatments” to my face as I watch the sags, bags and wrinkles appear. Preferably ones not involving rubber band snapping like sensations.
But the thing about these marks, scars, wrinkles and crinkles is that they look like life and stories and I love life and stories. I’m not all that interested in erasing them.
Striving for happy, better, and more
will never be enough.
There will always be the next best thing.
Which won’t last.
If I want my body to change or look thin, fit or muscular as a result from working out, I get depressed, lose interest and motivation to exercise.
But if I exercise because it makes me feel stronger and healthier mentally, emotionally and physically, I’ll keep showing up.
I’m grateful for my body. For my breasts while certainly no longer perky still wobble to and fro.
I like to and fro!
And healing be it from a mental illness like anxiety, depression, panic attacks and trauma or from this damn Covid business takes TIME.It requires patience and rest. 5 days or 5 months may not be how long it takes you to recover.
The pressure to say, I’m better, I’m over the hump, I feel great is counterproductive to healing.
We are going to get sick sometimes even when we have been taking lots of supplements and sipping bone broth.
We are going to age. This is an incredible gift not afforded to everyone.
We are going to die.
We can let go now.
We are not in control.
I know it’s terrifying.
But you are worthy of love exactly as you are.
Right now.
Isn’t that great news?
That you don’t need to be good at something to prove your value or worth?
That you belong and deserve to be here.
That you don’t need to change a thing!
Because there are people who love you because you are you. Not because you passed your AP exam, have full lips, are a great salsa dancer and have a degree from Yale.
There are birds, dogs, trees, kind strangers, stray cats, kids, mountain ranges, beaches, forests, rocks, seashells, sunrises and sunsets, and soft plants called lamb’s ears that feel like satin when you touch them. There are dear friends and members of our families and communities just waiting with their own unique magic to wrap their arms around you.
Simply because you are a warm, good-hearted, generous soul radiating love and light
for a very brief time on this crazy, beautiful planet.
The only thing that has ever truly helped me feel better, that we can never have enough of and is worth striving for every waking moment:
Acceptance. Compassion. And Love.