Reflection

. . . the art of bending back.

I don't like to look at myself in the mirror. I make myself do it when I'm doing my hair or makeup. It's unavoidable when I step out of the shower in the morning. Over time I've been forcing myself to look . . . really look at myself. For a long time all I could see were the negatives -- round cheeks, graying hair, a much rounder body. 

This month I designated as self-care month for me. I didn't create a lengthy to do list. Instead I've tried each morning to check in with myself and see what sounded like self-care for that day. The month isn't going exactly the way I imagined it would, but I am paying more attention to my wants and needs, and being a lot less strident with myself.

It's a month of reflection in many ways. I'm bending back into my old self. The one that existed before the abuse. The one who thought more about herself that what other people thought about her. I'm not calling it selfishness (although I would have in the past), but am rather reframing it at "as a valuable and necessary step in providing proper care to others" (Counseling Today January 2013). If I won't take care of myself, why should anyone else?

Yesterday I looked in the mirror longer than usual. I realized that, yes, I've gained weight and things aren't as taut as they once where, but that smile is still there and brighter than it was during the worst of things. I'm still me -- someone who cares a lot about how others feels. Someone who will go a long way to keep from hurting another person. Someone who likes to laugh out loud, and desperately wants to be accepted for who she is, warts and all. 

Because the first step in getting what I want is to offer it to myself. So I'm reflecting and bending back to take better care of me.

linking up
 with Writer's Workshop

Talking

We talk a lot, my husband and I. We talk about our life together. Our lives before each other. Our hurts and struggles. Our children and work and the future. People tell us we communicate well, better than most couples.

So why are there still those "hot buttons" that we can't resolve or at least make a treaty to handle?

We talked with someone new last night. Between the two of us, we bring quite a bit of baggage and history to the table. We don't keep secrets, and we don't yell and scream, but we get separated by fear and expectations.

The new person listened and asked questions. There was no judgment, which was really good for both of us. It was a long, yet positive hour of reflection. 

Afterwards we went out to dinner and talked some more. At one point, he said, "It amazes me that you can access your emotions so easily." I reminded him I've been learning about it for years . . . and years. And I'm a woman. We wear our feelings on our sleeves. Men, on the other hand, are taught from the beginning to stuff them down. 

Deep intimacy is a difficult thing to maintain. Society tells us that true love comes and is followed by "happily ever after". That is a lie. True love grows and develops if you are willing to work at it and stay the course. And "happily ever after" only happens in Disney fairy tales. Read the real fairy tales and they are full of reality. Just like marriage. I love my husband every day and he loves me, but the liking can be difficult to maintain at times. 

No one warned me about the work of marriage. I went into this expecting sunshine and flowers and white picket fences. What I've gotten is a lot of work, tears, frustration, and moments of pure joy and acceptance. And maybe I shouldn't be surprised by that because anything worthwhile takes effort, and anyone who tells you differently is selling something.

Blessings.