My son got his license the other day and that next step of independence has hit me. Hard. It got me all thinking about life on a deeper level and being all sentimental and goopy and it just so happens that fate has gifted me an empty house, for the first time since March, so I’m gonna write it out whilst simultaneously relishing the solitude.
There are things I want to impart to my kids before they are out of my nest. I guess that’s what most of us strive for as parents. I thought I had all the time in the world until one day I didn’t; and I don’t. Any maybe that’s the point, too. Our children are not us. They are not ours. They are as individual and unique as the exact moment that created them. I’ve always believed this to be true, but the older and more individual my kids become the more time I spend pondering nature vs. nurture on that mini scale which applies only to my own experiences.
With that said, I am also pondering life on a scale so much larger than my bubble. My bubble led me to this place of rumination but the beautiful messiness of life has overtaken my thoughts.
Why is it that, as humans, we are so fucking afraid to be vulnerable? What is it that makes us work like hell to prove to everyone we love and care about that we don’t need them until we are offered a limited space in which to finally be real? Once we are able to lay our swords to rest and love in the truest form we become what we should have been all along: Real. Just simply fucking real. Life is messy; life is mired; life is beautiful. Life requires some serious acquiescing to what is, in any given moment. Over and over again. I wish I would have figured out how to acquiesce long ago; and I am equally as grateful that I am starting to figure it out now. I’ve pondered why I couldn’t; and what I think I have come around to is that we are all broken and scared – and we don’t know how to trust that our hearts will not be broken over and over again. I think that once you start trusting that the people you have chosen to love also choose to love you, there is no other place you will land than that of higher and truer love.
Aside from COVID life, which I cannot even begin to address here, life has offered me the opportunity to dig deep twice this year – like dirt under all my fingernails deep. And I am grateful. I feel like I am starting to really understand and embrace the human existence on plains that I’ve shied away from probably since the first time I felt my heart broken. If I could tell my twelve-year-old self, and really every age since a little something about life, I would tell her to embrace the hurdles; you cannot grow unless you do. I would tell her to wear that goopy heart of hers on her sleeve with pride – love begets love. Vulnerability is what makes us so fucking human and beautiful. Pride will destroy us each and every time.
Life events in their realest and truest form are working to make me a better version of myself. They are helping me figure out how to open that heart of mine that was scarred and afraid. They are offering me the most painful, in your face, fingernails-on-chalkboard experiences. And in that, I know I am growing.