Transformation #375

Transformation #375

Once, as a child, I made a bad choice and was sent to my room for an hour. At the end of the hour, my mother opened my door and said that I could come out. My response? ” it’s already been an hour!” I was in the midst of playing something that involved an old zip up suitcase and my play sized kitchen sink. My imagination was my best friend, I preferred it over most humans for many years to come.
I am a fiercely independent only child and survivor of many things. I have numerous friends, and have entertained (hopefully) many people. I adore making people laugh, I delight in the stories that people share, I enjoy the buzz of parties and I am more comfortable on a stage in front of a sold out house than most any place.
I am happy eating alone, watching a movie alone, spending the day alone. I have traveled throughout the United States, Amsterdam and Germany alone. I have bought cars, and houses, drawn up wills and settled estates alone. I have raised my daughters virtually alone, not every moment, but the majority of the day in and day out, the midnight terrors, the early morning breakdowns, the fears, the hopes, the disappointments.
I have done some of it by choice, somethings by necessity, some by habit. I have taken pride in some of it, responsibility for most of it and when things failed, I have taken it hard. I have actively avoided help, slyly ignored offers, purposely pushed people away. Not always because it was best, but because it felt the safest. I made bad choices that made good relationships hard and worse choices that made bad relationships easier. Being fiercely independent, is the opposite of being vulnerable.
That fierce independence has served me well though. It has protected me in the worst of times and kept me in the survivor column. But it has also caused me to miss out on real opportunities for real love. It has left voids where deep friendships and connectedness should be. There are many ways to be alone, closing yourself off to deep connection is only one way.
Fifteen years ago I flung myself into the fire, with an openness to love and a deep desire to be a mother and a wife. I wasn’t as careful as I needed to be, I didn’t keep my eyes open. I loved boldly, though. I earned that deep connection.
And the time has come to love boldly again, to be vulnerable to the other honest-hearted souls, to love fearlessly, but wisely. I’ve grown and I’ve sheltered, I’ve healed and I’m healing. And the time has come to open up, loosen my heart, feel the warmth of intimacy, the comforting embrace of another. To give.
And I’ve taken my first baby step, by being vulnerable to each of you.


One response »

  1. *standing slow clap* Spot on and bravo, ma’am. Baby steps are no less important than “big” steps…and often require the most bravery. If nothing else, you know at least some of the effect of your baby steps here have had on me, and I thank you. 🙂


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