Walking through life’s doors….
Do you ever dream of meeting yourself, at moments in your life, when you would get to be a Mom, sister or friend to yourself? Given the chance, I would put my arm around me and say… “Lovie, you can handle this, you are fine, be fearless, love your husband with reckless abandon, your kids are perfect, you are too… You are amazing…. You are a great person and friend… I love you! Love your body, its perfect for you, it serves you well, drink more, you deserve it! Dance on a couple of tables (safely of course). “
As a religious and spiritual girl, I do see things more easily now… Listen, I’m not perfect. My favorite “secret word” is never mind, my Mother hates it; that’s why I love it…. Aren’t we all 13 at heart?
My priorities are simple; Clive and the peeps, everything else is gravy….
I kissed my Clive, for the very first time on my 21st Birthday and by my 22nd; I was a mere six weeks from marrying him. Looking back, I marvel at my 21 year old confidence, the core of my spirit that has always carried me… I think about her often. It always comes in the spring as I watch a new group of kids graduate, my little diva graduating from kindergarten, or my dear one across the street headed to a fantastic college in August. It’s the joy; as they step through another door… I wish I could just tell them, “don’t worry, it really does all work out. And whatever is on your worry list; it won’t be the thing that derails you to your core.”
It instead, will be something you never could have planned or seen coming… I wish life was more like tv, I live for previews and coming attractions… but if I really knew, what would I change? Would I drink more? Abuse this broken body more or would I have treasured it? We will never really get that answer, but maybe we would slow down and love more moments…
Why as women do we make it so hard; tear ourselves down over our imperfections? Aren’t they what make us special? Our crooked teeth, our funny toes, our breasts, our wrinkles? I could go on about the breasts, my little 36 AA’s (but not now).
I get so mad at women who freak out about having stretch marks… Listen bitches, I worked damn hard to bring these bebes into the world; you girlies with your perfect bodies need to bow down and realize I’m the golden ticket. I have the hubbie, who also doubled as my baby daddy, and yep we were married for 10 years first. I know, so countercultural, and these lines on my hips are from the weeks I laid in hospitals and on bed rest to keep them safe in my easy bake oven, so worship this! I’m so proud of them; I put lotion on them, and say don’t lighten, stay bright and beautiful, I earned them and I love’em.
My broken body is perfection, it is mine and I try every day to give thanks for my flaws, they are real, and present reminders that I’m still here fighting for this life, fighting to be well, undaunted by the foolishness …
So tonight, sit back, have a glass of wine, make a great dinner, enjoy a walk and enjoy the journey….
And you better make love with the lights on… you own it!