I was told today that I am a powerful woman. It was the end of what started as non-stop amazing from Wednesday through today.
Wednesday started with a small group of women in a friend's house. It was a gathering as part of the We Quilt Community. I was surrounded by strong women, supporting each other to stand empowered in our own lives. There was so much encouragement and actual support. It was beautiful.
At some point, a Facebook friend, and apparently a fitness expert and social media influencer started a free 7 day weight loss challenge. I had no idea what gift he was offering until I started poking around YouTube yesterday. He has been nothing but encouraging and supportive and a really fit cheering section for me and others. In what he's offering, I was able to share and supported a friend with this gift Saturday. I'll get to that.
Thursday I was able to show up for the James Blondes premiere. I've known one of the two since before they started doing videos. It was such a gift. When we met, it's fair to say we both needed a little of what was in us to make it out of us. We both needed to speak up and be empowered by our strength and ability. They created so much from nothing and while they have a way to go (I have no doubts they will arrive), it was so amazing to see all they've accomplished in such a short while. The personal growth I witnessed was so intensely rewarding.
Friday I followed up with a coaching call from an amazing strategist I met Wednesday. She gave me tools and direction and I'm so excited about the next few months. Later that night I met with a group of women. I learned much. I received so much. There were hugs and laughter and there was so much connection.
Saturday was a day for me to give. I showed up to support a friend. When I was in need of financial support, this friend introduced me to selling whitening toothpaste. It was the help I needed and I wanted to give back and show up. I was present. I was open. My favorite part of the day was sharing who I am with his wife. In my way, I was able to support and encourage her. I believe we'll be doing that challenge together. I was able to get to know her. In giving to her, I was able to receive so much.
Today was a whole new level of receiving though. I was at a workshop held by one of the women I met Friday. She was such a terrific speaker and had the craft of writing a book in 30 days into such a unique and structured art. By the time we left, every single woman there was ready to go home and start writing her book. None of us had written a book, but one woman was so ready to make it big, that she was asking how to get past the emotional pain of telling her story when doing one of her readings in the future. Tam shared part of her own story with so much poise. I shared that in telling the story, there's healing. Long after most people left, I was told I was a powerful woman, but it's not the first time.
When dating was a priority and I treated it like a job, I often had men tell me I was intimidating. That was hard. I was too intimidating for a second date. I was too intense, although no one could explain what intensity meant. It took a while to realize that a man being intimidated by me, does not make me intimidating. I mean, I would still date me.
Over and over, in groups where I contributed my thoughts and feelings, I'm often told by other women that I am powerful. One woman even said I was "Obama-esque." (It might be a black thing, but I'm taking it and calling it mine.) It doesn't feel dirty or like I'm lacking some feminine power. It feels good. What feels good is how others see me. Do I feel powerful? Hardly.
It feels more like the things that used to bother me don't matter as much and dealing with the things that used to anger me and mess with my whole day is more just like flexing a muscle. It's a gentle stretch. It's not powerful. It's just like breathing.
For me, there was no bigger fight than the one that ended my marriage. Sort of. We didn't really fight. I was just told the marriage was over, then the fighting began. I didn't deal with that very well, and my emotional bleeding looked like fighting. For once, I didn't just accept what I was told. I didn't look for ways around my limits in a passive aggressive "f-you." At some point I saw how the fighting affected my kids. Instead of finding the best way to hurt him back, I found the best way to take the high road, and did a crappy job of it for . . . How long is it now? 3 years.
I'm not always able to be the bigger person. I'm not always able to remain calm. But for the most part, I am. Just a couple of weeks ago there was a fight. My little one and I had picked out a picture frame to hang up Kid3's elementary school graduation certificate. On the day of the graduation, his Dad rushed to collect these things and I was angry. I wanted to take them, scan a copy for him, and hang up the original. We're not the greatest at communicating. I don't want to because there are some things I want to be a child about. The fight was starting and I saw the look on my son's face. I walked away. It might have looked like a fight I lost but the greater loss was what we were doing when we should have just celebrated our son. On my way home, I was contacting the photography company and ordering a new one that fits perfectly in the frame we picked.
I was in a rage, then decided the best thing to do was let go and just handle it the way I would handle anything else. It was like flexing a muscle. I let go of the anger, I got what I wanted in the end, and that peace of mind was only $20.
With my ex boyfriend, we were often breaking up and getting back together. The first few times he said he was leaving, I freaked out a bit. He would usually pack his things while I was at work. The first few times I was hurt. It was this feeling that I was failing another relationship. I felt powerless. Each time it got easier. I remember one of those times, he waited for me to get home before he left. He was in his truck, watching me on my front porch, lighting up a cigar. He laughed. I laughed. The many times he left made that final time so much easier. It was a muscle flex.
Earlier today I posted a picture of a bracelet I found among my son's things. It was funny to me. My son respected me enough to hide it. I'm a relaxed enough Mom to appreciate it. A Facebook friend's comment made it clear that he didn't appreciate how I mother my children. We're Facebook friends but have never met in person. We're just part of a really large network. I didn't fit in his idea of Christianity and respecting the authority of the office the POTUS holds. I will add, I'm an Autism Mom and a fierce beast if poked. Actually, my rage is like an itch sometimes, and my enjoyment of hurting others that aim at my babies scares me. I know exactly what I'm capable of and some people have no idea of the grace I extend in those moments. My reaction a while back might have been to do my best to reduce him to nothing. Today, it was more of a stretch. I shared more of the situation and my perspective and made it clear that I won't judge him. I acted in a way that carefully respected that he gave me an opinion that really won't affect how I show up for my kids.
When people mispronounce my name, I often say, "I've been called worse." I really have. The point is so much of what used to reduce me to tears and fear doesn't hold the same power.
The conversation with the women earlier today reminded me of so much pain I've experienced. The truth is these things never really go away. They don't stop hurting. You learn to cope with it in a way that it still occupies the space that was made. That gaping ache is still there. The haunting echo of silence and anguish can still crack the stability I was walking on. I just experience less of a shock. My pain doesn't shrink, but my ability to deal with it rises to meet me. My life flows and flexes around the trauma in a way that I rarely miss a step. I've been through worse and endured so much more.
In the workshop, the speaker shared with a grace that is carried in so many women. It's a strength and power of endurance and tenacity. I felt so much connection and empowerment in my tribe this week and it's what keeps me feeling like a strong and capable mother.
It's in seeing this quiet strength and community from my tribe, that I am able to lead my sons to see power in silent authority. So many men I meet are powerful and dominant because they tell you they are. I want my boys to see it's in how you handle what you are given. It's in the power and strength you lead with in action, and not the blustering noise that goes before you. I don't always hold it together. There are moments when I feel weak or want to shy away. My kids see it. They can tell when I shrink in my ability, depending on the situation. I asked my kids to tell me to "Man the fuck up," when I was playing small. They refused. They agreed to tell me to "Boss Up," but I haven't heard that one lately either.
I often think of a lioness. She knows she can tear up her meal. She can do it with little effort. It's like flexing for her. She doesn't need to tell you she'll hurt you. The hairs on your body stand up at attention to let you know the danger you're in. She does what needs to be done without permission or worrying about how others will feel, and she doesn't care to make others feel better about the life she leads. Most importantly, she leads with other lionesses.