Too much, yet not enough

I’ve been writing love letters. Doesn’t that sound so incredibly beautiful, and curious?

I wish these feelings on the folio were being gingerly typed on a green Smith Corona and he responding in his favourite ink and white blank sheets of hope. But instead, fingers on keys almost as quickly as the brain is devising the next plan, thought or joke. A phone screen, maybe a tablet or iPad, depending on brand of choice, but definitely the white on black or black on white contrast, adjusting intensity depending on what time of day it is.  The writer hitting SEND and the reader, with anticipation, hitting READ. While there isn’t much romance in the mode by which these thoughts and worries translate to the preverbal page, the content (passion and doubt) must show up, head held high, and soul and heart at the forefront.

In one of my recent letters, I revealed the broken memories I had of my past lover. As I typed that letter I cried at the notion of loss. It wasn’t so much the loss of that person, now six years later; it was the feeling we go through when either the expected or unexpected end creeps it’s little head around the corner, like the negative balance in your bank account from too much online panic shopping.

We’ve all had heartbreak in some form.

A lover letting us know it isn’t you, it’s them.

A friend going off in a different direction, where life and thoughts were once inseparable; so insync you’d be made fun of often by others around.

A job you thought you got, but passed over, again, for the third time.

When your bangs grow out and you wish the process wasn’t so long; just to go back for one day.

I really did love him. As I typed feverishing, recounting this past love to my reader (this was an installment of heart break stories – sounds a wee bit sad, but it’s amazing what talking about heartache actually does to the recovering soul), I wrote something to the effect:

“Too much, but still not enough.”

Do you know what that feels like?

To be told you’re too much for someone, yet in the exact same breath meant to feel so incredibly inadequate it’s like getting the air knocked out of you during a fake wrestling match with your 3 year old nephew.

This has been a constant fear in my life. My strong opinion (often for the underdog, I’d like to add), my feminine features and my big brain, can manifest as “a lot to take in”. Loud. Cute but intimidating.

I struggle daily with:

• A – being a fake for adjusting myself for my audience so I don’t offend; and
• B – living authentically knowing that most will walk away from me because there’s something in themselves that struggles with who they see in me

This boy did that to me – making me feel like I was too much as the person I showed up as daily (loving, laughing, caring and experiencing) and in the process of this, made me feel completely and utterly inadequate for the love I knew I deserved.

And I haven’t let anyone in since.

Now, this isn’t a relationship or love story piece, although I know most of you are still waiting for my screen play on more sordid love affairs and haphazard adventures of the last decade or so. My point in all this is that the most important part of any path (health, love, transformation, career – fill in the blank with anything you may be going through) is facing our true self.

During the onset of my own health journey, I committed to living out loud, embracing the faults of my past, and the daily grit and gruelling work from everything that went wrong in my marriage. A huge part of this included improving my relationship with my ex-husband so we could show up in an honest and loving way for our kids.

“Credit goes to the decision that you made in the silence & to the inner determination that changed your trend of thinking. Spring is the acknowledgment in nature that the silent work of winter was effective.” On Spring, R. Bitzer

Where you may be today, doesn’t need to be where you stay. Your decisions now, will only help pave the path for where you intend to be.

In the past few years I have:

• separated & divorced (now that seems simple on the screen, but this was after 21 years together. The fear of having to tell people was the toughest part of this AND reinventing who I was. If you’re experiencing a similar situation, you know that feeling and it’s shit. I can’t say anything to make it better for you. You just have to commit to being truthful in what you choose to tell people, and don’t apologize)
• moved my kids and I three times (and we’re getting ready for a fourth)
• quit my stable career, ran two businesses, and then re-entered the full time workforce making only $1.00 above minimum wage at the time. It was fucking brutal
• have had two longer term relationships; one I broke off, the other broke off for me. This is itself a trauma that often times we need to endure silently, especially as single parents
• I came out. Ya, ya… I’ve never written about this. It wasn’t the party and celebration that some experience; it also wasn’t heart wrenching and debilitating that many go through. It was me, cloaked in the confidence I had crafted over my 39 years, secretly struggling for acceptance and love. I will write more about this, but for now, I can describe it as very liberating as I finally felt whole. What would come would be a year and a half of batting with a partner who wasn’t out. I was kept a secret and I committed to never put myself through that again. If you are in a relationship or situation where this is happening to you, I will tell you, this will become a pattern and one I don’t suggest you start.
• I gained 50 pounds of the 102 pounds I lost – I really don’t have much to say about this. This has almost been more difficult than my divorce. I feel like I’ve lost the person I worked so incredibly hard to find. I crafted her with sweat, tears, injuries, and created an identity I guess I really never felt I deserved. This feels like a separate blog post 🙂
• I have not allowed myself to love again. Que in the “too much, but not yet enough” script that plays in my head every time I swipe right, every time I catch someone’s eye on the street, every time I feel like something is finally right. I have designed my life to keep people in my circle, but not close enough to see all of me. I am in test mode right now and am worried the too much and not enough may win again.

This is a lot. I know it is.

But, I’m don’t feel like I’m the sum of all this. I have left behind most of the hurt, have kept the resilience I learned along the way, and will have those few people continue to be my people even though I love differently now, I look different now and I remain true to who I believe I am and can be.

I wish I could wrap this with some sage advice I feel that the 30-something blogger in me may have done not only adequately, but with poise and class. It’s not that type of ending.

As my 46th birthday knocks on my door, all I have is my daily practice of believing I’m enough, in having the hope to imagine life differently, in avoiding the overthinking and being present with what’s in front of me.

I’ll continue to live life HUGE; I will love with intent and passion, welcoming those who are ready for me, travel often, sleep soundly, eat and move without guilt, lead my kids to live their truth and, maybe, just maybe, share an early morning coffee in bed with that someone who knows they can show up exactly has they are, because, that’s the greatest gift I could ever give and ask for.

Now, go be too much, because, I’m telling you, that’s just enough.

Axo