It was just a matter of when

It was always going to hurt.

It was always going to end. 

It was just a matter of when. 

The loss of a loved one, the death of a beloved family dog, the end of a romantic relationship - the hit is deep, the hit is hard, and the pain is real. The end is inevitable, it’s just a question of when it is going to make its bitter arrival. 

As a realist, accepting the end is the most important part of the beginning for me. Recognizing and committing to the hurt that will eventually come is necessary. However, despite entering every situation with eyes wide open, the end always comes. In waves of sadness, resistance, grief, and hurt. I try to avoid it, fight it, and rationalize it. I read these three statements over and over in an effort to embrace the outcome that always comes. 

There’s no such thing as a happy ending. If things were happy, they wouldn’t end. Every situation will end badly otherwise it wouldn’t end at all. When we create space for new love, we must also ask, can we handle the void that will forever exist when love no longer does?

Act As If You Can

When I initially started my career as an early childhood educator, I had the honor and privilege of hearing an incredible speaker, Chick Moorman. He said something that completely changed how I parent, how I teach children, and how I view myself. Childhood is a unique time of fluctuating independence and dependence, autonomy and reliance, which becomes a delicate balance of helping children develop both their skills and their confidence. In our best efforts, when a child is struggling, we often encourage them to just "try". The downside is that "trying" includes the possibility of failure. Enter Chick Moorman. He said instead of telling children to try, we should tell them to "act as if you can". It simply means to persevere, keep working at it until you get it. It falls in line with the "fake it till you make it" approach except children aren't faking anything, development is simply just in progress. It shifts the mindset from the potential to fail to the likelihood of success or existing ability to be successful.

I often hear adults of my parents' generation often say that children these days give up too easily. And that may be so. When did we lose our ability to push through and overcome difficulty? When did failure become a moment of despair and giving up rather than a moment of learning and growth?

The issue of instant gratification.

A significant difference in how our society functions now in comparison to 30 or 40 years ago is how quickly our needs are met. The internet, smart phones, fast food, online shopping, Amazon Prime, etc. have made it easier than ever to have anything we need at our fingertips right when we need it whether it is food, information, entertainment, or supplies. We've virtually eliminated the necessity of waiting which has decreased children's ability to think through situations, consider alternatives, and manage their emotions. In turn it has increased impulsivity and the expectation that anything we need will come to us immediately, and potentially without effort.

Distracted from difficulty. 

Closely related to the issue of instant gratification is how much we distract ourselves from things that are boring, uncomfortable, or hard. We even take our cell phones to the bathroom with us as if 5 minutes doing what our bodies are designed to do can't be given our undivided attention. Beyond the bathroom, we see this as children playing on tablets waiting for their food, watching TV while we get our teeth cleaned. I've even seen TVs at gas pumps and in elevators. This habit has weakened our ability to do hard things, to have the attention span for being uncomfortable, resulting in the tendency to give up and lowering our confidence to continue working at it.

Are you modeling perseverance? 

When you find that your child or the children in your life are giving up easily, consider what they are observing in the adults around them. Where are your gaps in confidence and what do you do when something is hard or doesn't go your way? Are you modeling making multiple attempts, managing your emotions, and continuing your efforts until you're successful? Consider narrating encounters with difficulty, articulating your brainstorming process, verbalizing feelings as you problem solve, and reflecting on successes. Children learn best by watching adults so if we change our behavior first, they are more likely to change theirs.

In my personal experience as a parent, it is often difficult to modify our behaviors. It can be hard to remember what our long term goals are and persist continually to achieving them. In the face of this challenge, I know I'm going to struggle, but I will continue to work at it and constantly remind myself: "act as if you can".

Exercise your privilege

I am white.

I am heterosexual.

My pronouns are she, her, hers.

I was well into my twenties before anyone had used the word ”privileged” to describe me. And embarrassingly, well into my thirties before I understood what that meant. I initially thought, “what privilege? I’m just moving along here, living my life.” Of course I thought that. Privilege at its finest. Two key things happened to open up my thinking and actions. 

First, I began to understand that privilege doesn’t mean my life hasn’t been hard, it means that my race, gender, and sexual orientation aren’t things making my life hard. You’ve probably heard this before. People of all races, genders and sexual orientations experience trauma, poverty, failure, etc. My privilege actually eased my path through those common challenges rather than creating or amplifying them.

Second, I started to listen to people that have been marginalized, implicitly and explicitly. I began to understand their experiences were vastly different than my own. 

The more time I spent in this, the more I realized that it is not enough for me to simply understand and own my privilege, I have a social obligation to use my privilege to fight systems of oppression that perpetuate the white, cisgender, heteronormative culture we live in. Committing to that was easy. Understanding how to do it was not. 

Here’s an example of one step I took. A colleague of mine always introduces herself with her pronouns: she, her, hers. At first it just seemed interesting. And then I asked her why she did it. And she explained that when she does so it makes it more comfortable for people to express theirs. And that if she doesn’t do it, she’s perpetuating the binary norms that usually come down to assumptions based on looks. Even if every person in the room was cis, starting with her pronouns is a gentle reminder that not everyone is cis. So I started to do this. But then I got lazy and forgot. Because I have the privilege to! And that made me realize how important it is that I do it every single time. Non-binary people don’t get to be lazy about fighting for space, it’s not fair for me to get lazy about making it. 

What are you doing to push back against white, cisgender, heteronormative culture to make space? 

Flashback Friday - Hopscotch

I recently discovered some of my writing I had saved from High School and college, prompting a new series in my blog: Flashback Friday. Please enjoy this first edition. 

Hopscotch

(Circa 1998)

I used to play hopscotch

Without a care in the world. 

Everyone played

And we never knew their names. 

It didn’t matter, it was fun just the same. 

Times moved on

and so did we. 

And soon it was just a faded memory. 

Now I have friends

Acquaintances and close, 

Mom and Dad. 

They all stick around.

Temporarily, at most. 

In the end,

My heart is broken and cold. 

And here I stand,

Betrayed and alone. 

Maybe I’ll go play hopscotch. 

This was definitely from a significant period of life when the reality of changing relationships was sinking in. I was adjusting to my parents separation/divorce, young romances ending abruptly, and friendships changing as we gradually morphed into adults. I longed for the simplicity of childhood and lacked the maturity to accept that there was no way to return to it. 

I still feel the pull toward the easier times in my youth but also recognize the growth, wisdom, and insight that comes from painful experiences. It’s hard to find that easy companionship as adults but it exists in our shared enthusiasm at concerts, knowing glances as we struggle with our children in the grocery store, and long hugs from friends that just get us, no explanation needed. These connections are bigger, deeper, because of the years of experience that molded them. 

Hopscotch sure seems a lot easier most days but I wouldn’t trade away my years of living and growing to be back on that playground. I can smile because the happy memories happened and give a respectful nod to the struggling teenager I was back then.  And be grateful that I’ve come to embrace periodic change and pain not as something to be avoided but a s part of truly living. 

Do all the things

I have two small children, a full time job, a side gig writing books and teaching at a university, I run, my husband and I go on dates, we love cross-country family road trips, I have 20 best friends that I connect with regularly, and I never miss a party. People say things like “I don’t know how you do it”. Behind my back they probably say things like “she’s trying too hard” or “what is she trying to prove” or “she’s going to wear herself out trying to do all the things”. I get it. My life is pretty full and would exhaust most people. 

The recent label likely put on this would be FOMO - fear of missing out. Which, is probably sometimes true. But more than that, this is simply the life I choose. I’m not “trying too hard” I’m just simply trying to make all the things I want work for me. And they do. Our life is full and happy and exactly what I want it to be. 

When I was in grad school, a fellow student looked at my professional vitae and said, “how can I compete with that?” but the truth is, no one should be competing with me. Except me. We should each be living the exact life that we want and makes sense for us. 

Social media has amplified this notion of “fear of missing out”. When we see someone running a marathon, we think “why don’t I make time to run?” Or when someone takes a trip to another country, it’s easy to think “why aren’t we taking big trips like this?” It’s completely appropriate to periodically assess your values and priorities. Are your daily actions matching up with your priorities? If not, it would be a good  time to make an adjustment. But we need to let go of the habit of assessing our daily actions based on someone else’s values, priorities, and energy. We should be able to celebrate the lives of others without feeling like that’s what ours should look like. 

So, do all the things - but keep it limited to doing all the things that make you happy. And don’t worry that someone else’s life is too much or not enough for you. It might be just what they need. 

Jump or Fall?

For a long time, I thought I was afraid of heights. Driving over bridges gave me shivers and I was inclined to close my eyes. Standing near glass barriers in hotels, shopping malls, or sporting arenas made me anxious and jittery. Over many years, I finally realized it’s not that I’m not afraid of heights, it’s that I don’t trust myself not to jump. The fear of falling is so overwhelming, jumping would be soothing. It is easier to jump with a plan than to fall unexpectedly. 

But wait - I’m not suicidal. I have no other tendencies to harm myself or end my life. So what is this about? I struggled with this a lot. I’m not afraid of heights, I don’t have a death wish. I simply can’t handle the potential of falling and the sheer anticipation of that potential becoming reality. It might not happen but oh, what if it does?!  I’d almost rather just make it happen than wait to see if it was going to happen against my will. Is this rooted in my anxiety? Or my control issues? Or my desire to know how things will end? 

The most important aspect of this revelation about the particulars of my discomfort was recognizing that this parallels the way I live my life. I want to know how suspenseful movies end so I don’t have to deal with the anxious feelings during the movie.  I hope to get the stomach flu when it’s going around because I don’t want the surprise onset. Waiting for relationships to end is almost stressful enough for me to walk away. This is probably the saddest area of my life that this anxiety imposes itself. 

I’m so aware that everyone will leave - by choice or by death. This is the first thing I consider when entering a romantic relationship, a friendship, or a even a work partnership: can I handle waiting for it to end? Engaging is easy, that’s the part that feels good. It’s the end I always have to carefully consider. And sometimes I can handle it. Until I can’t. And then I walk away. Out of fear and anxiety and avoidance of uncomfortable feelings. It is always easier to leave than to be left. You can see it coming. You can brace yourself. It’s easier to jump than to fall. 

Everything is temporary. Can you handle the ride until the fall or does it become too much so you jump to stay in control? 

I’d bet my life on you

I grasped the metal bar to keep my balance and avoid taking in all of the blood pooling around my feet, running down my legs, and splattered all over my hospital gown. She gently said, “it’s ok, lower yourself down, I’ve got you.” She guided me step by step of cleaning myself, using the bathroom, and tending to the the most sensitive and private parts of my body. I was exhausted, afraid, and slightly embarrassed. She was calm, reassuring, and patient. She cleaned up every pool and drop of blood without hesitation or grimace. Her name is Kim. She was my labor and delivery nurse when I had my most recent baby. And she cared for me in my most vulnerable first moments after delivering my son. 

Recently, a GOP senator made an off-handed comment about nurses spending most of their day playing cards. The internet ran with it. Memes. Tweets. Social media posts. It blew up because it couldn’t be more off the mark. 

I keep thinking about Kim and what she gave to me in the 6 hours she cared for me, barely leaving my side. And she wasn’t the only one. My baby came fast, with little warning. A dozen medical professionals rushed in the room and enthusiastically, lovingly helped my baby into the world. I don’t know what they were doing 5 minutes before my baby crowned unexpectedly. And I don’t care. They showed up with the energy, knowledge, and focus to care for my family. 

Nurses work tremendously long hours, sometimes assisting with planned medical procedures, sometimes waiting for the unexpected to happen, because it will. This can mean hours without using the bathroom or eating or checking in with their families. Not only can the hours be long but they are required to fully give their physical, cognitive, and emotional all with every patient. And they do. 

I was completely dependent on Kim and she was completely present with me. I hope she got a long break and did something that relaxed her when I left her unit because she likely had to do it all again with another patient and she would fully show up for them too like she did with me. 

We see you, nurses. We recognize the physical and emotional sacrifices you make every day. We know the toll it takes on you. And we are so grateful. So go ahead and play some cards if you get a chance. I’m guessing you won’t but I’d bet my life on you any day.