Awareness of self comes with age

 “Growing up isn’t about getting older, it’s about becoming someone.”

Last year at this time I was nearing my thirtieth birthday and was dreading it.   I kept thinking that despite the experiences I have had in my life I didn’t feel like I was thirty, and really, I didn’t want to be.  I guess it felt like this was the point of no return.  I would no longer be considered a young adult and the likelihood of being mistaken for a twenty-something would become rare.  So, on my thirtieth I announced that I was in fact turning twenty-five forever. 

But, now as the end of my thirtieth year approaches the desire to be twenty-five again is disappearing and being replaced with the honest-to-goodness reality, that I am no longer a young woman.  I am an adult, a beautiful woman who not only appreciates my experience but also the years I have lived on this earth.  I am learning to embrace the emerging grey hairs and the reality that as I age my body will change.  I am more grounded and self-aware than I ever could have been at twenty or twenty-five.  In my thirties I have learned about what I need to take care of myself and that it’s ok to take a break from my own expectations.  I have learned that love really is central to everything and so is healthy communication for that matter.  I have realised that having a spotless house doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.  And no matter how hard I try to create change in someone else, the only change I really have power with is myself.  I have learned that the world is filled with both good and bad and in both instances I have an amazing group of friends, so close they are family to share it with.  The most refreshing thing learned in my thirties is to let go and just be, truly in the moment.

 I am still not exactly sure what I feared or dreaded when my biological clock flipped to thirty.  I imagine the dread might have had to do with thirty being the year I had previously created deadlines for myself.  At a much younger age, I had imagined myself to be married with children by the time I was thirty.  Now, as my life continues to move forward and I become another year older.  My hopes of marriage and baby haven’t disappeared in fact those hopes have evolved.  Now, I may not have a ring on my left ring finger or a baby at my breast.   But I have become a self who will succeed in both of those instances, more so than I imagine I might have at twenty or thirty.  So, turning thirty wasn’t so bad and turning thirty-one will be pretty great too as I continue to learn and grow into the beautiful woman who doesn’t just age but evolves year after year.

The Foundation of Family

"Wherever there is lasting love, there is a family."

Family isn’t just about who’s related and who isn’t.   Family is about love, support and acceptance.  It’s about taking care of one another and being strong when times are tough. Family is the foundation of our lives.  It is what we are born into and it is also what we create.  Family is there for the good and bad times, the struggles and the triumphs.  At the end of the day, family is often there when everything else falls away.

At various points in my life I have redefined my version of family which as a result has deepened the roots and overall integrity of my foundation.  For me, family is a multi-dimensional system, mainly one in which I have created.  Despite the lack or perhaps because of my limited birth family I have placed a great deal of importance on family.  I believe that as I have grown and matured my understanding of family flourished into a beautiful web of care and love grown out of intimate moments and friendship.   In the past year when John was sick our world shifted and I was lost.  But luckily with my family I was found.  And for that I am forever grateful.  Their strength, persistence and support not only helped our little family but it allowed me to evolve as an individual.  In the moments when I could ask for help they were there and more importantly, in the moments when the words to describe my needs couldn’t pass my lips they were there just the same.  Johns Mom, Dad and Step-mom were amazing as they were there in the moments of crisis and made our house not seem so big and empty while John stayed at the hospital for weeks.  Our neighbors walked and fed our dog, plowed our driveway and cut our lawn.  John’s coworkers sent flowers, movies and magazines to help us pass the time.  My work also sent flowers and a wonderful care package filled with all things necessary and useful while in hospital.  They also provided a great amount of food, which was very important for me at the beginning.   There were many friends who called, wrote and send positive thoughts our way.  Some friends came to visit after we had left the hospital and some brought us groceries for months.  In those months when life was a little too much and a bit overwhelming all of the important people who care were there and that is the true definition of family.

Be-coming a Mother...

“She was all the things I wasn't. And I was all the things she wasn't.  Her hand, it fit mine.” – Jodi Picoult

I don’t currently have children, but one day I will.  In fact, I have never imagined a future where children don’t exist.  Being a mom isn’t something I aspire to be; it is something I am becoming.   When most little girls were pretending to play house with dolls, I was mothering my younger twin sister.

I cannot describe what it feels like to be held in a loving mother’s arms, but I hope at one point in my life I was and that I felt love.  I do know how it feels to reach out and grasp a small hand just like mine and to hear the little whispered I love you in our darkened bedroom.  The sad and wonderful thing is that as I grew, my understanding of love came only from the connection that was between just two little girls.  It’s hard to imagine, but I have no memories of any of those moments where I was held and loved by a parent.  While I had caregivers and people who loved me, I have no idea what it means to have a mom and/or a dad.  I never had the opportunity to crawl into my parent’s bed to be comforted during a storm, or snuggled after a scary dream.   So instead of building a relationship with non-existent parents, the connection between Michelle and I grew with each moment shared by holding hands and loving each other unconditionally.

In my attempt to create a world for future children, I have one purpose; to ensure that no child that ever enters our lives will question or doubt that they are loved.  So, with that purpose I have learned to communicate and fight fairly, so that children will see that despite becoming upset with one another, John and I still love each other; I have learned to take care of myself by making time for things that I enjoy; I have learned to appreciate and understand the strengths of the man standing next to me and most recently I have begun learning to let go, something I imagine every parent needs to do.

When John and I started looking to buy a house I was picturing our children in it.  In fact, one house we looked at numerous times before finally putting in an offer had almost everything on our wish-list.  But, I remember saying to John each time we looked at it that I was worried about the location of the stairs as I could see our children chasing each other or the dog and the thought of them falling frightened me.  While John may have told me not to worry about children we didn’t have yet, he was imagining himself and a son or two kicking a soccer ball around in the backyard.  Because the positioning of the stairs could be fixed and the yard was determined big enough to play soccer, we bought the house.

And one day this house will be filled with a child or two.  Children that we will love, cuddle and whisper I love you in the dark and in those moments we will create for them memories of pure unconditional love.

Expectations...the only ones you are required to live by, are your own.

“Expectations, they are all around us, they come from others, our environment and most of the time from ourselves.”

At the age of 19 it came time for me to leave the place that had been my version of home in search of a new place, and so I went far.  I travelled hundreds of kms away from the one person in the entire world I never wanted to leave.  Almost as much as I didn’t want to leave Michelle, I knew I couldn’t stay.  I needed another opportunity.  So, at a small university in a small northern town I set off on a journey with no connections to anyone.  Being alone gave me the chance to become my own version of self.   There was no one there who assumed to know who I was based on someone else’s story.  For once, it was my turn to write, and the next stories would be mine to tell.

This chance, this escape, was kind of like being reborn again with no expectations but more importantly with no judgements.  The self I presented to others didn’t get clouded by any part of my history that I didn’t want to be there.  As I travelled my journey in northern Ontario and into the rest of my life, I realised something.   While I had successfully left the physical beings that put me down and doubted my ability to achieve in my past, bits of their negativity had made its way into my future.  Some of what they had said had made their way into my head and I had translated them into my own inner voice. 

I lived with those voices for a long time.  Sometimes they told me that I wasn’t good enough, or laughed at me, and sometimes they screamed mean things that made me cry.  But no matter how loud the voices or the consistency of their message, my will was stronger and I believed in something else.  I believed that not only could I prove the voices wrong, but I could rid myself of them for good.

Ridding myself of the negative inner-critique wasn’t easy and at times there are moments still when I hear their faint whisper of doubt.  My will to out-speak the voices in my head was powerful, but it required me to not only to view myself in another way, but to also speak differently to myself.  So, I chose to internalise the kindness I gave to the world.  I was committed to caring for my spirit, my integrity and my inner beauty before giving anything up.

As I move through the years and the experiences in my life, I have built up an awareness of my inner self-talk, now I know which words are mine and which messages of doubt are someone else’s.  It is often said that awareness of a problem is always the first step.  I believe that awareness is the only step preventing me from caring for self or not.

Stop striving for good enough, you’re better than that…

“It's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not.”

What does it take to know you’re good enough?  Is it power, inner strength, determination or resilience?  Is it something you have to be told or was someone able to instil in you, the belief that you count, that you matter and that you are more than good enough?  Sometimes it only takes one person to tell you that you are special.  For some, it’s an entire village filled with caring and considerate people that show them, good-enough is something each of us deserve.  But, sadly for some, it’s no one.

Growing up I had a hunch that I had something to prove.  I lived under a veil of expectations that failure was likely.  My intention was never to be the best, I just wanted to succeed.  I believed that if I could prove everyone else wrong about their assumptions of me, then and only then would I feel like I was worth something.  When I think back and recall the 12-year-old version of myself, I wish there were things she knew about herself.  I also wish that the building blocks of her foundation of self never included doubt from others; that she then internalized into her own version of self-doubt.  If given the opportunity, I would tell her that despite the struggles and pain she might face, she has the ability to see the opportunity in every experience.  I would share with her the reality that her determination will eventually pay off.  I would show her, despite her disbelief, how beautiful she is, and I would tell her that within her she has the power to instil in others, the belief that they matter.

As an adult, I have seen sadness in the hearts and minds of many.  In my job I work with homeless men.  Some of them are consumed by mental illness or addiction and too many others are lost in the despair of their depression.  They often struggle with the baggage of self-doubt and a belief that things likely won’t get better.   And if by some chance something good does happen they believe they don’t deserve the opportunity.   But despite the doubt, I believe and so do many of my coworkers.  As a result, opportunities arise and the men once plagued with loss and despair grow and begin to believe; believe that the world isn’t so bad and that they deserve the second chances. 

I have also had the opportunity to see the beauty that exists alongside the sadness, as some of the newest children of the world are being raised to believe in themselves.  These children are not just told that they are beautiful and deserve to be cared for.  More importantly, they are shown how much they matter.  Some little girls get flowers after a big event, as a little surprise or for no reason at all.  And some little boys are cuddled as their mom wipes away the tears caused by a recent fall.  My hope is that all the little girls and boys of the future never wonder if they will ever be pretty enough or smart enough and that they never question if and when they will ever be good enough…

Creation of Self for Self

"As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live." - Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

In creating self and building relationships I was misled by the belief that another person could fill the voids left by my need for belonging; belonging to something, to someone.  I thought that unconditional love by another would be the way in which to meet all of my needs. 

But building a partnership with another person isn’t about filling a void.  Not until my foundation of self was built up beyond a level of giving myself to others could I become part of it, part of anything.  Being in love or building a life with someone else really only happens once you have created the ability in your own foundation of self to meet your own needs.  I had spent much of my life in search of some person, to fill in the parts of self that could make me whole.   

It’s crazy to think that someone who had such difficulty trusting others would put herself in a position to have her needs met by someone else.  The reality of it is, perhaps on some level I knew that it wasn’t possible.  Instead, I lost myself in others.  But once I became aware of my need to belong, to be loved by someone else, I realised I had to do things for myself first. Only then I could start building up the parts of my foundation that could connect or become part of another person’s foundation.  The trouble was this took years for me to understand. Historically, I had sought refuge in relationship after relationship, but I was still lost and too much of my sense of self was still empty. 

It is easy to imagine that building up the foundation of another person, has the power to limit and compromise the integrity of one’s own foundation.  But it has a way of tricking you into believing that it feels good to be taken care of by someone else, even if it means your needs are not your own.

 In contrast, by building up my own foundation of self I was able to gain the understanding and necessary awareness of where I begin and where I might begin to become part of something else, part of someone else’s life – a partnership.  Once I realised that my search for love and happiness outside of self was unattainable I began the difficult journey of searching and creating those blocks within my own foundation.

I now had the understanding that the failure of maintaining my own foundation had compromised my own sense of self.  Never again would I find myself at the end of anything without a map of finding love and happiness within my own heart and soul.

Saying goodbye...

"Sometimes saying goodbye is giving yourself permission to move away from the self people think you are to the person you believe yourself to be."

            Rarely do you ever cross my mind.  It took a long time to let you go…As a child I wished and prayed for you often.  I wanted to see your face and to hear your voice.  I begged God to make you present in my life.  Finally, he succumbed to my wanting desire and you were there the day I came to meet you.  When I walked into the room I didn’t know which face was yours.  I had no recollection of you; all those memories had been washed away by the hands of my mind.

             But, there you were looking nothing like me.  I was scared.  I had so much to say, so much to ask.  I didn’t know which to do first.  So, I didn’t speak, but I opened myself up and absorbed every detail of that day.

            We began to spend more and more time together but I was still so far from knowing you.  So many years had passed, maybe too many.  Instead of being someone I didn’t know, you became someone I still didn’t know.  Life didn’t change much after you presented yourself to me.  In fact you replaced no one as I expected you might.  Instead you became the upset part of my life.  You left me feeling more lost than before I met you.

            One day I woke up and realized that I didn’t need you.  All the people I loved and those who loved me were still around and doing a better job than you ever tried to.  It saddens me to say this, but it is my truth.  My life functions well without you.  You are not the missing link I was looking for; it was here beside me all along.

           Perhaps if you had made different choices I wouldn’t have to say this, but that is not the case…Goodbye

This piece above I wrote in 2001 several years after ending visitation with my birth mother.

Growing up without the reality of a parent altered the person I became.  The care givers in my life were persons in the business of providing temporary care to children; foster parents.  But for one reason or another Michelle and I were raised for 17 years by temporary parents.  I know not what it means to have a mother or a father.  I do know what it feels like as a child in grade five trying to explain to her teacher why she can’t complete her family tree assignment.  I know what it feels like to be bullied and tormented because of the setting in which I was raised.  I don’t know what it’s like to call home mid-semester in first year of university to ask for $50 for groceries.  Sadly, I know that I am not alone in my experience.

When a child reaches a certain age, he/she/they begin preparing themselves for their understanding of self.  This journey is often travelled through asking a series of questions.  Where did I come from?  Where do I want to go?  Who am I?   I never expected the journey to be easy, but I also never imagined that at the age of 30, some of those questions would still not be answered.  They might never be answered and that reality became part of my foundation of self.  It enabled me to permit myself to become without a definitive history of who I was. 

It doesn’t matter if I am Scottish or Irish.  It doesn’t matter if my birth parents loved me or not.  It does matter that I am here, that I didn’t just survive but that I was resilient.  It matters that despite the sadness that has found its way into my life; I can see beyond it and be confident that it doesn’t define me.  It matters that I care about my needs and the needs of others in a way that embodies love and empathy. I have learned that we are not creations of the past defined by others.  Instead we are an evolution of a being that is always becoming.