Since my last post I still haven’t been to the gym (10 days now) or on a run (2 weeks, but who’s counting). I have cancelled a huge race, I have nothing on the calendar, and I don’t know when I will decide to sign up for something else.
Because I have other shit going on right now.
Life is doing what it always does – changing.
And standing in my kitchen yesterday doing yet another load of dishes, mentally planning an amazingly long Saturday, attempting to prioritize a million and one things into what I would like to do, what I have to do, and what is required for basic survival (because, let’s face it, that is probably the only thing really going to get done today), I began to once again feel like an utter failure.
Screw that. I put on my bitchface (evidently this is the new “big girl panties”) sometime ago and made a beautiful discovery.
I. Am. A. Good. Person.
In fact, I am pretty effing cool. Sure, I have my flaws, my points of weaknesses, my low points in history, current errors in judgement that I need to tender apologies for, and areas in which I can learn and grow. But, overall,
I. Am. A. Good. Person.
So, while I am open to improvement and growth, I will not entertain ideas of lacking. I am working really hard to be comfortable in my own skin. I decided standing right there in that kitchen, “balance” was just as likely to be the culprit as my moral fortitude. It deserved to be judged for merit as intensely as I did. And damnit, I chose to let “balance” go first.”
One of my most scarring childhood failures was my inability to ever do a cartwheel. To this day, I have never been able to do one. As a little girl, this can be devastating. For me, it was.
Now in adulthood, womanhood, most particularly, motherhood, we are taught that balance is key. You have to find it, own it, wrestle into your masterful submission, then take pictures of that shit in action so that you can instagram it and post it on pinterest like the grown up version of a girl scout badge sash.
Then we must compare ours with others to make sure we are doing it right with the right ratios. Are we taking enough time for ourselves (because that’s what strong, independent women do), while still making our spawn the center of the universe (because that’s what good mommies do), while personifying the wife of the century to our beloved (because that what good wives do), in between which we go to school, excel at out careers, be vigilant friends, sisters, daughters, nieces, save baby whales, and vow to single handedly destroy big pharma, big government, big business, and big asses.
Seems reasonable. All you need is…balance.
And if you can’t manage it, you are the one lacking because balance has all the answers. It is perfect in its design, ability, motive, and quality. It is the belle of the ball and you are the little ash covered girl beaten into submission by stupid half wits with only mice to help you out.
Nope, I think, for me at least, balance, the illusion of balance, the effectiveness of balance, has gone the way of skinny – shit that has been promoted around me my whole life as the ideal, the way to greatness, that really is completely and totally unattainable and useless.
I have said before, I don’t need skinny. I need strong and comfortable in my own skin. I like to do physical work. I enjoy chopping wood, pushing a lawn mower, building a shed. I like carrying my own boxes, lifting my own children, opening the new jars of jelly. I like the way my muscles look and the way The Dude looks at me still, after 16 years and 4 kids, STILL looks at me. That comes from strong – not skinny.
I like that life can throw some crazy stuff at me and I can adjust. I can rework a schedule, tear down here, build up there. I can totally remove sections knowing that they will be there when I get back and take on less than desirable tasks knowing I won’t have to do them forever.
I don’t need balance. I need confidence.
For about two seconds I let this idea of balance rob my confidence. Okay, maybe 2 minutes. But the verdict is in. April may have some improvements to make, but this is not one of them.
P.S. I AM (barring some crazy development) going to the gym tomorrow. Wish me luck