A couple of days ago, I read about this project. It turned into a book that I can't wait to read. The premise of the project was asking people what their story is. The book is a compilation of people's stories, in their own words and writing. It's infected me. I think about it all the time now. If someone, today, were to randomly ask me "what's your story?", what would I say?
I know what I usually say, and I don't like it. One of the first things people learn about me is that I am a divorced single mom, followed shortly by my divorce story. Yuck. And why? Has my divorce defined me? Certainly not. Has it shaped me? Sure. It's molded who I didn't want to be any longer, and who I have become, but I am not my divorce. Honestly, this may be the single most important thing I have realized all year (good thing it's only May!). I am not my divorce.
Two days ago, I made a conscious decision to stop talking about it. Not pretend it didn't happen, but not offer it up as pertinent information, because really, who cares? I certainly don't.
So now I am left with the same question, "what's your story?", and I think about it alllllll the time now. What are the things that I am made up of? What are the things that someone would read and think to themselves "huh... I had no idea", or maybe even "I love that about her". This whole project has twisted my mind into thoughts, one after another, perspective to opinion, truth to heart. I have leaned upon so many answers...
I was born to amazing parents who taught me the value of unconditional love.
I have a sibling to whom I am a polar, absolute opposite, and it fascinates me that we came from the same parents.
I have made a lot of mistakes in my life - in relationships, in parenting, in friendship, in decisions, but I am grateful for every single lesson that formed me into who I am right now. I am grateful for learning the value of gratitude.
I am a truly good person, and I am blessed to have arrived at this destination despite some of my journey.
I could truly do this all day long. I have spent two days thinking about what I would want my story to read with no definitive direction. Then I thought, while I sat here writing (finally), why does it have to be just one story? Every single time I sit down and write, and sometimes, even when I don't, there's a story. And maybe yesterday's story isn't today's story. And maybe all of the stories make up our grande story. So I decided to go easy on this ever debating mind inside my walls, and take it one story at a time.
What's my story today?
Today I woke up writing a story about stories in my head, determined to write it down. I examined who I am and where I came from and analyzed all the parts that I thought were important, and ignored all the insignificant things, pushing back all of the things that I didn't want to tell the truth of my part in.
I struggled going to my job knowing I have very little purpose there, wasting time to ensure a specific monetary value to my paycheck, but knowing the Universe has put me here to push me to make bigger decisions and affording me an opportunity should I decide to see it. It's truly what gets me through my work days.
I will come home tonight, and my son will ask me how my day was, and I will appreciate that he truly cares how my day was, and he will never pacify me with sugar coated responses and meaningless head nods. He will truly listen to whatever I say, and hug me with such a force I think he might be trying to force me together, knowing how much I long to be "whole". And then, I will reciprocate the gesture in undivided attention.
Tonight is my daughter's send off from grade nine and middle school. I know I will fend off tears at seeing how grown up she is before her time while she stands in front of me, but shed them instead in a silent room, alone tonight. I will think about her in that dress, in those shoes, and that piece of hair that always falls in her face, and I will remember fuzzy sleepers and baby giggles. I will burst with pride and crush in pain of her being so independent and strong.
I will fall asleep alone tonight, counting days until I no longer have to fall asleep alone.
The rest of my life is just days away. That is today's story. It's a story of waiting, and watching what happens while I count down the days, remembering not to miss what's in front me while I am looking ahead.
I think every day, I may very well have the same thought - What's your story?
I just hope I have some more really good ones before the end of the book.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Well, it's happened. I have moved my blog. It's something I should have done years ago, but it was easier to just keep on the way it was. But the thing is, all three of my blogs were attached to something I want no part of (it's funny how a simple email address can hold so much power). For anyone looking for an old post, or still find yourself attached to reading it (thank goodness for all of you that do), you can still find them in the same spot:
However, the time has come for things that are new. And so, here we are, at the beginning of something new, yet still in the middle of what was, So in the newness of the familiarness, here we are, still moving forward.
And this morning, I woke up writing.