“Why Can’t Everyday Be Like Yesterday?”
These were the words I found coming out of my mouth today to my girls. They were telling me goodbye as I headed off to bike. I turned and asked them this question, “Why can’t every day be like yesterday? Yesterday the weather was perfect and I got to play with my horses all day. I don’t like today.” My girls smiled knowingly at me, paused, and then said wisely, “Because then there would be no yesterdays. It would all be the same. We need variety.” Damn. How did they get smarter than me? I looked out at the rainy day that I was about to be biking in. Everything was dreary and grey and steady raindrops were soaking the earth. I sighed. It’s true. My girls are right. Just yesterday I was lamenting that this might be another year of drought and then today I am lamenting because it’s raining. Wow. Apparently, I just like to lament.
It’s been a rough season for me. A lot of big changes are coming up that I am preparing for. My son graduates high school in 2 weeks, starts work full-time for 2 months then heads off to college in a different state. My girls are probably going to public school this fall and we shall see if it’s a good fit for them. I am trying to not panic as it gets closer and my fears only seem to compound. God, it’s scary.
Change is scary. Any change. Even good change.
All these changes make me feel tender and sensitive. Recently it seems that I am getting triggered easily and don’t have the patience that I want to have with my relationships. But when I think about it with the knowledge I have about horses, it makes total sense. Horses cannot learn when they are stressed out. In those moments they are just trying to survive. All their brain can process is, “Stay alive, stay alive, stay alive…”. This morning I definitely felt that way. Everything felt overwhelming and too much.
My son has 2 weeks of high school left and he is an exhausted zombie, struggling to survive. It is SO hard to watch my son go through this. I have been trying everything I can to support and help him but there is only so much I can do. This morning Nate and I helped him put together his “Life Story” book. After I got him out the door to school with coffee in his hand, I walked our pasture and cried. My heart breaks for him. I want to see him running through the fields with our dog, climbing our tree house, and reading books in the grass for hours again. I want to see him happy and loving life. I want to see him thriving. I hate him being locked away in a building doing less important things for 8 hours that suck his energy. I don’t know. I know I can’t expect him to be my 14-year-old, carefree kid again. He is signed up for college and now I worry that he will just be miserable and overwhelmed there for years. I don’t want him to go from one stressful situation to the next.
But I don’t get to choose. It’s not my life. And ultimately I know that my son will find his way and discover his own happiness. It’s just hard standing by and not being able to do much. Letting go is hard. Even though I know he needs me to let him go.
So I cry out in the fields. I blog about it. I cry to my partners. I cry to my horses. And I let go. A little more each time. Because I fucking love my kids and I refuse to get in their way or put my own feelings or fears on them. I know I still do sometimes, but I am working hard to learn how to best honor them and let them find their way.
I think the reality is that as my kids grow up, it triggers fears in me that have been beaten into me. And sometimes it’s so hard for me to figure out what are my “actual fears” and what are “taught fears”. The way that people brainwash you and control you is by planting fears in your brain that keep you from exploring. So stepping out and trying new things is quite often traumatizing for me.
Having a nonmonogamous relationship has been crazy scary. It’s a constant battle in my brain between fucking loving it so much and being totally freaked out. This morning I wanted to bike far away and maybe go live in the woods. It felt too hard; too unpredictable; too risky. My trauma response is to run away. Far away. And never come back. But I also know that after a few hours, I will get scared and lonely and regret it, so yeah, I haven’t ever run away.
Life doesn’t give us magic answers. I guess we just learn from trial and error. I don’t want to give up. I just need a break sometimes. I don’t want to try and squish myself into a certain mold anymore to please others. There has to be a way to honor myself and still have fulfilling relationships. I think part of what trips me up is thinking it has to look similar to what I have always known about relationships. But that is silly because no one is me. And everyone needs something different. And not only is that okay, but it’s also actually good.
Today I have a lot of processing to do. I’m sure you already picked up on that by now :). I don’t and won’t ever have it “all figured out”. But I can continue to discover and heal and allow myself the space to fumble my way through hard seasons.
Today I give myself permission to fumble. To cry. To bike 23.81 miles in the rain in order to make sense of my thoughts. Nothing is “wrong” with me. It’s just a part of life. Some days are sunny like yesterday and some days are rainy like today. I will recalibrate. I will recover. I will recharge. Then I will keep moving forward, towards the future I want. Because I deserve it.
So do you.
I love how you choose to learn from each moment and keep striving to take One Little Step at a Time. :) 😘