What Do You Think?

I am 39 years old. I have lived a pretty full life. I have had all sorts of experiences. I have hit bottoms and I have had miracles.

I believe the bottoms were miracles actually.

It has been made very clear to me, over and over again, that I am NOT in control. That I am one among many. That I am being taken care of. That life needs me to be present. That in order to be present I need to be all of who I am.

Yet I continually and painfully choose to forget. It is like I have built in forgetters that kick in whenever I gain another does of courage.

The truth is, I want to be liked. I care what you think.

As much as I don’t want to admit this, and I would preach against it with passion, I would pretend to be above this and I will act like I don’t, but I do tend to care about at the number of “likes” I get on social media people!

For realz.

Honestly, this just a small tid-bit of how “caring what you think” sneaks it’s way into my daily life as a 39 year old wife, mom, sister, daughter, friend, and writer trying to fulfill her own mission on crazy awesome planet.

I am hitting another bottom here my friends.

I resisted even writing about this because it is a hard one to own. Well ......then you have to do something about it right?

I want more for my girls.

I want my oldest daughter to walk into swim practice, even though she is one of the oldest ones on her team and this is uncomfortable, and rock it anyway. I tell her it doesn’t matter. She is showing up, learning a ton, and giving her heart. That is enough. That is awesome. Who cares what people think?

I want my middle daughter to willingly except the extra reading help she may need this year, even though this means walking through the discomfort of being pulled out of her classroom 2x a week. She so strongly wishes she could effortlessly read and write like her big sister. I tell her she is a brilliant little sponge who, also, happens to be the lucky one. Her incredible math oriented brain gets some space to absorb the stories and words without distraction. As long as she continues to give her heart to it, who cares what other people think?

And my youngest. I am just starting to see the awareness “What will those people think?” creeping into her little head as she curbs her fairy dances in public. I want to scream NO!! in a very dramatic horror movie sort of way. NO, don't mess with that heart. Keep giving that heart of yours my little love! Don't stop. Don't listen to the doubt. Your heart is just what the world needs kiddo. That fairy dance is just what we need.

How can I expect them to own whom they are, the something that makes them beautifully and uniquely them and the something that the world so desperately needs, if I have not shown them how?

I may question a lot of things in my life, a lot. However, one thing I have been given an unwavering clarity on, is what Legacy I want to leave.

When my girls think of their mother I want them to think of a woman who was all of herself. All that I was created to be. Not someone willing to waste any of whom God created her to be because I was worried about what that might look like. I want them to think of a woman who listened to the call in her heart and stirring in her gut. I want them to remember a woman who dove in, jumped with two feet, danced big and sang loud.

I look at my girls and I see only good. I remember when my oldest was born and I told my sister that I couldn’t even really see her face. I know that sounds weird but it was like her physicality was almost blurry to me. I just saw light. I only saw a beautiful bright soul.

Isn’t that who we all are? We have all just spent years covering it up with self-doubt and fear.

By not being who we are, all of who we are, we are not only doing a disservice to ourselves, but to the world. We are needed. All of us.

What this looks like for each of us is immensely different.

That is the coolest part.

I want to teach my girls to know in their bones, ingrained in their hearts, starting from the toes up, that they only need an audience of One.

Time to start living it.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this here. Thank you for reading this part of my story.