Grey Hair, Don’t Care (I Wish!)

It’s time for another grey hair post! Every so often, I need to remind myself why I’ve decided to grow out my grey hair. I’ve reached the uncomfortable stage of this process. It’s been fun and surprisingly painless until now. My hairdresser has been using a variety of highlights and lowlights to blend the line of my roots growing out, and I’ve liked it. Highlights make me feel fancy. But the line’s been blended, my natural hair colour has grown out everywhere except at the top of my head where I’ve been getting highlights, and now my hairdresser says I’m ready to grow everything out.

Taken last fall, when I was still having fun with highlights.:)

Yikes.

I have mixed feelings about this. I love the freedom of less hair appointments, and not having to cover up roots all the time. But there is a lot of junk for me to work through in this process, because my grey roots make me feel old and unattractive. I wish I didn’t care about these things, but it turns out that I do, and it’s something I’m learning to deal with. Because I’m in transition, I don’t know if I’m just feeling the discomfort of having five different colours in my hair right now, and things will get better as everything grows out, or if I’ll still feel this way once I’ve reached my goal.

I look at pictures of grey hair, and I love it. It looks beautiful, but I don’t know if it will look beautiful on me. I’ve always struggled with change in general, so that might be contributing to my discomfort, as well.

Whatever the issue really is, the cure is always the same for me. I give myself a good talking to about what is truly most important in my life (it’s not hair colour!), and then I go find some fun pictures to remind myself to stop taking this all so seriously. It’ll be fine in the end.

Sources: 1/2/3/4

I’ve also come across a couple of interesting blog posts on growing out grey hair:

The Silver Lining – A Guide to Growing Out Your Natural Grey Hair

My Eight Best Secrets For Dealing With the Emotional Ups and Downs of Going Grey

Young and Grey? You Might Want to Just Stick With It

Five Reasons I Stopped Coloring My Hair

And here are the posts I’ve written in the past about my thoughts on grey hair:

My Grey Crown of Glory

Surrounding Myself With Grey Hair Inspiration

Have you ever thought about growing out your grey? Why or why not?

 

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How I Did a Five Minute Plank

You guys, I am finally able to do a five minute plank!!! I’ve been working at it since December, and it feels absolutely amazing to have reached my goal! I don’t think there’s ever been something I’ve worked so hard physically to achieve. Except labor. Delivering babies is slightly harder than a five minute plank. 

Ben and I have been talking about habits a lot lately. He’s also wanting to get more consistent with exercising, and I want to be more disciplined about staying on top of our budget. How can we make these things stick?! Ben has been listening to some great podcasts about habits, and sharing interesting tips with me, so I thought I’d make a list of things that worked for me:

Reward Yourself

When we need to do something difficult and unpleasant, it makes sense to combine a tough challenge with something fun. According to one of the podcasts Ben listened to, it’s even better if the reward happens while you are completing the task – like listening to an audio book or watching a show that you only allow yourself to enjoy when you are exercising. But it works to treat yourself afterwards, too, if it’s not possible to combine the activities. In the months since I started planking, Instagram has become my little treat. Once I collapse on the floor, I give myself permission to not move for 10 minutes, and enjoy some guilt-free time on Instagram.:) If the kids need something or anything else comes up, Ben does it for me, because I’m not getting up until I’ve recovered. It’s funny how such a little thing is something I look forward to!

Accountability

We hear this one all the time, because it is SO TRUE. I need someone checking up on me. Ben has been encouraging me all along with exercising, but lately, Anika has also become my little cheerleader and planking partner. There was a day when I wasn’t feeling 100%, and convinced myself it was okay to take the day off. But then Anika came upstairs and asked me if I had done my planking yet, and was really disappointed when I said I wasn’t going to, because she wanted to do it with me. I didn’t want to let her down, so I decided to just do a short, quick plank with her. Once I got going, it wasn’t hard to keep going longer, so I did!

But as much as I appreciate Ben and Anika’s accountability, what really kept me pushing myself was having to report back to my muscle therapist every two weeks. He was always encouraging, but he wasn’t overly impressed with me when I was slacking off, and he knew I could do better. He kept telling me about the 70-year-old client he has who only took four months to reach a 10 minute plank, or the client who was stuck at seven minutes but stopped watching the clock and suddenly jumped to an 11 minute plank!!! What in the world. It would make me mad, so I’d go home and push harder. I needed that push. Find somebody who will give you a regular kick in the pants – pay them to do it, if you have to!! It is totally worth it.

Understand the Wisdom of the Process

This one comes from the pants-kicking muscle therapist. He is the most disciplined person I’ve ever met, so I asked him recently if he was always so disciplined, or if it was something he had to work at. He was surprised by my question, and said, “I’m not a disciplined person. I just understand the wisdom of the process.” He explained that once you understand the why of what you’re doing, and focus on how your future will be impacted by the choices you make today, you will have all the motivation you need to keep going.

This resonated with me, because I understand the wisdom now, but I haven’t always. When I first started seeing my muscle therapist, he would give me many different stretches and exercises to do, and I would, but not every day. He’d tell me to do yoga daily, but it hurt so much, I just *couldn’t*. It wasn’t until that month when I gave up every appointment, and felt like God was telling me to “act like a healthy person” when I finally got my butt in gear. I had nothing else to lean on, so I did every stretch, exercise, and yoga routine I’d ever been told to do, and by the end of the month, I was a new person.

Was it a miracle from God? Yes.

Did I work my butt off that month? Yes.

Could I have done it on my own without praying for a miracle? I would say no, because up until that point, I was never able to. I didn’t know what else to do, so I did everything I could, and prayed like crazy that God would do something new. And He did. I was finally strong enough to have a baby, and that is when Everett joined our family. It’s when I learned to push through the pain to bring about change. My body took a big jump forward during that time, but in the year and a half since Everett was born, I’ve still had a lot of pain.

That’s where planking came in. My therapist said it was the cure-all exercise because it brings every muscle into balance. It’s fantastic for people with back problems and neck issues, so he told me to start working towards a one minute plank. Then suddenly he was saying two minutes. Before long he was talking five minutes, then 10 minutes. I thought he was crazy – until that point, I had never even considered the fact that a ten minute plank was possible.

But I kept trying. IT HURT SO BAD!!! I would sit on the floor before starting and cry because I DID NOT WANT TO PLANK. I hated it. I felt more terrible than I’ve ever felt, because all my muscles were being challenged. I’d go to him and complain, and he’d pretty much say, “You have to push through it. There’s not a lot I can do to help you – your body has to adjust to using muscles in the right way. It will feel like you’re going to die.” So I’d go home, and I would feel like I was going to die, and I’d keep pushing, because I was so desperate. I wanted to be well and strong. I want to ride my bike and run after Everett.  I want to play piano again. I want to stop being the person who is in pain all the time. I don’t want my life to be defined by pain and limitations. I was sick of all of it. I had to trust that my muscle therapist was right – I was taking his word for it that this present torture would result in a strong and pain-free life. It’s taken nine months to get to five minutes, and he seems to be right – I have stretches of feeling really, really good. It doesn’t last, but it’s coming. Apparently, I won’t even feel my back by the time I get to 10 minutes. I asked him if it would take me another nine months to get to a 10 minute plank, and I liked his answer!! He said it’s like a big, heavy truck – it takes a long time to get going, but once it’s rolling, it’s hard to stop! That’s me. I’m rolling now, and I’m going to keep rolling right to a 10 minute plank…and beyond! I want to be the 70-year-old just killing the plank.

Take Responsibility

This was super hard for me to do for a long time. For many years, I had a really bad attitude about health problems and a weak body. I was angry with how my life had turned out, and I was bitter about how much harder things were for me than a lot of the people around me. I was jealous of other young moms who were living the life I wanted, and these negative feelings sent me into a very dark time of my life. I felt completely helpless.

I kept sitting around, complaining and wishing things were different. I wanted somebody to help me, I wanted God to save me, and to make it easier for me. I’ll never forget the day it all snapped. It was like God pulled back blinders in my life, and I realized how unhappy I was, and that I needed to be the one to do something about it. He was pouring out blessings onto my life, and I couldn’t even see them because I was so consumed with how terrible I felt. Something inside of me started to rise up. Looking back, I don’t really know how things started to change – it must have been that God just planted a seed, and it started to grow. Determination rose up in me, and I started searching for a better way to do things. I started trying everything, I googled and researched to figure out what to do, and Ben and I prayed a lot for God to show us what path to take.

I needed to accept the health challenges in my life, and instead of complaining about them, start putting that energy into doing everything I could to make it better. I still have times where I break down and have a good cry, and I wish I didn’t have pain in my body, but I try not to dwell on it, because it doesn’t help anything. I can’t control all of the circumstances in my life, but I get to choose how I’m going to respond to them.

There’s a verse in Proverbs that says if you don’t work, you don’t eat. I don’t get the good stuff if I don’t put any effort into it. It’s up to me. It was a hard lesson to learn.

Moving On

So I’ve accomplished my five minute plank, but there are many, many other habits which need to be developed in my life! I’m curious to see how the lessons I’ve learned from planking will be applicable to other new habits. I’m finding that achieving a difficult goal gives me confidence and motivation to do other hard things. I can push myself farther than I knew before. Time to move on to budgeting!!

Do you have any tips for sticking to a new habit and accomplishing something hard?

 

 

A Letter to My 18-Year-Old Self

Grade 12 photo

Dear 18-Year -Old Kendra,

This week, I attended our 20 year high school reunion, and as cheesy as I think these kinds of letters are, there are some things I really wish you knew. The reunion brought up a lot of memories – some good, but some really hard. There are thoughts and feelings I hadn’t realized were still lurking around down in the depths, and churning them up last night made me wish I could tell you some things which would have made these last 20 years easier:

You are stronger than you think. You will spend far too many years claiming the labels other people have given you, and some you’ve given yourself. You see yourself as small, weak, insignificant, but just as every single person is created beautiful, resilient, and unique, so are you. You have what it takes to find your way through, and you don’t even realize it yet.

Some things which seem wildly important to you at 18 actually are not. But it won’t be disappointing – rather, it will be a gradual awakening to new passions, adventures, and tools you will discover to get you further on your journey. Hold things loosely, because they might not be as important as you think. But when you discover something worth standing up for, do it with everything in you.

Your world is very small right now. The people in your world and their opinions of you seem like everything, but they won’t always. The hoops you have tried to jump through to feel accepted and validated can be left behind, and you can go out into the world to discover there are so many wonderful, amazing people and experiences which will change how you see yourself and the things around you. You don’t have to go far to find them – you just have to be open.

You will see how much we all need room for grace, forgiveness, and growth. Just as you need a lot of time, experiences, wisdom, and depth, so do all those around you. You have some scars and old hurts you need to accept, because everybody has them. You’ve given some, and you need to take some, because that’s life. There are misunderstandings, immaturity, and a lot of private pain which lead people to do things we don’t understand. Let it go.

Many of your dreams will come true, but life won’t turn out the way you imagine – it will be better. You will look back and realize you did not get the exact life you thought you wanted, but it will be so much harder, richer, and more worthwhile.

There will be many times when it will appear as though you’re approaching a dead end, and you won’t be able to see a through – keep going. Trust that with God, there is always a way. Life and it’s challenges keep coming, and you will keep growing as long as you choose to rise to the occasion and not give up.

You have no clue what hard things are coming your way, but 20 years from now, you won’t want to change any of it. It will be the hard times which will also bring beauty and hard-earned joy. Accept all of it. You can’t have one without the other, and you will see how it’s all worth it.

You can’t control everything that happens to you, but you get to choose how well this will go. You choose your attitude and response – nobody does that for you. Don’t complain or blame somebody else for your problems. Figure out what you’re going to do about them.

Be okay with messing up and making mistakes. You expect perfection from yourself, but it’s not possible, and it makes you too hard on the people around you, as well. Go gently.

I can tell you all of this, but in the end, I know you need to go out there and learn it for yourself. And that’s okay – it would be less painful to learn it by simply being told, but sometimes it’s necessary to learn from experience. So learn. Be open to it. You are in for a fantastic 20 years.

Sincerely,

An older and hopefully wiser version of yourself.

 

Looking For Ways to Show Honour

We’ve been talking about honour in our home recently. I listened to a podcast a few weeks ago about how it’s even more important to show honour than obedience. Obedience can happen even if the heart is angry, but honour happens when we value someone’s heart, and are motivated to obey by a deep desire to bless others with our actions.

It’s a tricky thing to teach, because it’s a heart thing. Obedience and honour can look the same from the outside, but it’s the unseen that I’m more concerned about – with my kids, and also with myself.

A synonym for obedience is compliance, which can mean simply going through the motions. A synonym for honour is reverence, and to me, this speaks to the fact that each of us is created by God, made in His image, and we honour Him when we value each other.

I was trying to explain all this to Anika one day, and searching for ways to make it easier to understand, when a memory popped into my head. Sometimes it’s easier to understand what honour looks like when we think about what it does not look like, and although there are many sad, horrible examples in the world around us, I thought she’d enjoy my memory.

I was in college, and I met a boy who was convinced we were meant to be together. I did not share his conviction, and although we were friends, there were many reasons why I was not interested in pursuing a relationship with him.

He had a lot of trouble understanding this, and kept asking me out so often, I started keeping track, just for amusement. He reached a total of 17 times, which is a testimony not of my ravishing beauty or charming personality, but rather of his amazing persistence.

I finally asked him why he wanted to date me so badly, and his reasons were as follows: I didn’t have pierced ears (which he considered a rare novelty, for some reason), I had long hair, and it wasn’t long distance to call me.

That was it.

I remember having a very mixed response to this. I thought it was ridiculous, I couldn’t wait to get back to dorm to share this with my friends to give it the mockery it deserved, and deep down, I also felt really… yucky. I felt like an object. I felt like all of who I was – my thoughts and ideas, my sense of humour and creativity, my dreams and fears, joys and sorrows, whatever all combines within me to make me who I am – had been diminished to a phone number. His desire to be with me was based on an area code. He thought I was cheap and convenient.  He didn’t really care about me or what I wanted, he didn’t value all of the things that made me Kendra. He did not honour who I truly was.

It’s a pretty harmless example of not being honoured, but I’ve been thinking a lot about this since telling Anika that silly story – about how such a tiny example of being devalued still affected me. And yet, how many times in a day do I not value people around me, even in the smallest ways?

When I’m in a rush to get to an appointment, and I don’t want to let someone into my lane because I don’t “have time” – I forget there is a person driving that car, who is living a life, like me. They are not randomly driving their car around the city of Winnipeg just for fun. They also have places they need to be, a schedule I’m completely unaware of.

When I brush off someone’s opinion because it’s different than mine – or even get offended by the things they say – I forget they are on a journey, like me. They go through stuff, they feel things, they have their own junk to work through, and things that make them happy or sad. They have reasons for thinking the way they do, and I forget to find out what the story is behind those reasons.

The grumpy clerk, or the annoying salesperson is living a life, and they didn’t get up that morning with the intent of making my life frustrating. They have their own frustrations – can I honour them in the way I treat them?

I once had someone try to sell me something that was supposed to change my life. It was going to fix all my problems. Only problem was, they didn’t take enough time to actually understand what my problems were, or what I had already tried. They had the answer, but they didn’t listen to my questions. They didn’t wait long enough to hear my whole story, or to understand this crazy journey I’ve been on. It made me not want to listen to them, because I didn’t feel like my experiences were valued.

I want to learn how to honour people. I want to value where they are, where they’ve been, and where they dream of going. Anytime these things are forgotten, things start to fall apart.

I’m trying to pray about that – to start my day with asking God to show me how I can honour my family, or the people I come in contact with throughout the day.

There are so many examples in the news and in the world around us of ways in which people are being devalued. Things are a mess, but I wonder if the first little step to take is remembering the life behind the person, and looking for the smallest ways to show honour.

I found this quote which seemed to sum it up well:

love

source

Maybe we just need to take a little more time to see the other person’s heart, and honour what we see.

 

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When I’m Parenting a Rutabaga Instead of a Pumpkin

A few years ago, I was at a conference and heard a speaker say something I still think about regularly. He was talking about parenting, and said,

“We don’t get to choose the seeds we grow. God gives us the seed, and it’s up to us to water it, make sure it gets the sunlight it needs, and care for it in every way we can, but we don’t get to control what kind of plant it grows up to be. If God has given you a rutabaga seed, but you want to grow a pumpkin, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you will never get a pumpkin to grow from that rutabaga seed.”

I love my rutabagas very much, but there are still times when I have to fight back the pumpkin urges. Sometimes I think about what an awesome parent I would be if everything were perfectly organized and under control, with my three perfect little pumpkins all in a row. But I’m raising children, not pumpkins, and life gets crazy and wild, and how I react in the heat of the moment is more important than it’s ever been.

kidsI feel like parenting is a magnifying glass for all of my strengths and weaknesses – it provides a glaringly obvious look at my spiritual, emotional, and social health. Things which might be a bit of an issue for me with other people is going to come up with my kids, multiplied times ten. I can be socially acceptable in public for short periods of time, but you stick me at home with three kids, in the midst of homeschooling, housework, busy schedules, tantrums, lack of sleep, whatever else, and suddenly those pesky little personality flaws become crystal clear.

I have my own ideas of how a situation should be handled, and they have theirs, and suddenly I’m feeling the tension of a rutabaga. They are each their own little person, and I don’t get to control how they react or think. The only thing I have control over is how I react. It would be so much more convenient if I could change them instead of myself!

But I keep remembering this quote I shared a few weeks ago:

quoteI was thinking about it in relation to people in general, but Ben and I have been talking lately about how it applies to raising kids. Ben says we still have the responsibility to try our best as parents – the Bible tells us to train our children in the way they should go. But who gets to determine that way? We can guide our children, but how much can we really change them?

Ben has told me stories about his horrible temper when he was younger, and I find it almost impossible to believe, because Ben never loses his temper now. And although I am sure his parents did many awesome things in raising him, there was only so much they could do. It took maturity and deep conviction on Ben’s part to finally make a life change when he was in college.

This reminds me of a few truths to hang on to:

  1. God has a beautiful plan for my rutabagas.
  2. I need to be faithful as a parent, but also trust the convicting power of the Holy Spirit.
  3. Between trying to change myself, and learning to entrust my kids to the Holy Spirit, I have plenty to keep me busy without trying to control my children.
  4. I’ve never tried rutabagas, but they could be fabulous, and I might like them better than pumpkins.

As I just reread that list, I mentally changed it from parenting to relationships in general, and they all apply! I am never “just” a stay-at-home mom – I’m learning, growing, and being challenged every single day, as are my sweet kids.

We can all be rutabagas together. Pumpkins are so overrated!

 

When I Need to Assume the Best About People

Last week, I received an email which had my stress level rising before I’d even read it – the subject title alone got me going. I was pretty sure I knew exactly what the email was about, and unfortunately, reading it confirmed my suspicions. I was also fairly confident I knew why the email had been sent, and was having a difficult time keeping my emotions from rising to the occasion.

As I began to mentally form a response, two wise voices started saying things in my head.

The first voice was Ben’s, because he always says, “You can never be too gracious.”

The second voice was Brene Brown, who says:

quoteI had to think these things over for a little while. The ungracious, defensive part of me felt the email was critical, but how could I interpret it in the best way possible? I decided to take it as someone’s well-meaning intention to show care and concern, rather than criticism, even though it was hard for me to actually appreciate their input.

I wrote the most gracious response I could come up with, and then deleted the email so I wouldn’t be tempted to go back to it.

Remember how we make up stories in our heads? It can be easy to take a comment or email the wrong way, and make up all kinds of reasons as to why someone would say or do something annoying or even hurtful. But more and more, I’m seeing how I need to make generous assumptions of other people – when they question my choices, or when I’m mentally questioning theirs! Can I assume everyone is trying their best? That doesn’t mean it’s THE best, or even THEIR best, but could I at least say that in their situation, with their current resources and abilities, they are trying their best?

I remember a friend once saying, “Nobody sets out to make really bad decisions on purpose.” We all have our reasons, our weaknesses, and our moments. I’m trying my hardest, but I fall short, and I need a lot of grace. So does everybody else.

Now, I am completely aware of the fact that sometimes, it does NOT look like people are trying their best. It was hard to make generous assumptions this morning when I went to check on my girls’ bedroom after I asked them to clean it up, and it was still a bit of a disaster. Was it their best? Probably not.

And I’ll never forget the day when my high school gym teacher made some assumptions about my performance on the basketball court. He stopped the game, and came storming over to me with whistle blowing, arms waving, and voice yelling, completely humiliating me in front of the whole class.

He assumed I didn’t care about doing my best, but what he didn’t understand was that I cared too much – I was so worried about making a fool of myself, it was self-protection to not try, because when I was purposely not trying, no one could see how bad I still was if I actually tried.

When I think back to that painful memory, it makes me wonder if people (even children who are asked to clean up their rooms) are held back in some way from doing their best. When Kaylia goes into an overwhelmingly messy room, she shuts down. She uses a variety of tactics to avoid cleaning it up, because her brain just can’t take it in. If I hand her one item at a time, she has no problems taking that item and returning it to the right place. I’m trying to teach her how to do this on her own – don’t look at the pile, just grab one item, figure out where it goes, and keep repeating until it’s all done. But that’s really hard for her. She’s held back from her best.

So let’s say we’re all trying our best, or we have issues holding us back from our best – I’d say either one calls for grace and generous assumptions.

I want to learn to expect the best from people. And when they can’t give it, I want the sensitivity to realize we are all held back with old hurts and emotional baggage, but usually, we’re all trying really hard.

What’s the most generous assumption I can make?

The Story in My Head

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I just finished reading Rising Strong this last week. It’s the first book I’ve read by Brene Brown, and I loved it, which is evidenced by how many page corners I folded down to remind me where my favorite passages were…
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The whole book is amazing, full of many different ideas which I will be mentally chewing on for some time, but the one which impacted me the most was the idea of “the stories we tell ourselves”. She writes about the tendency we have to fill in missing details in our effort to understand ourselves, as well as other people.

“Storytelling helps us all impose order on chaos—including emotional chaos. When we’re in pain, we create a narrative to help us make sense of it. This story doesn’t have to be based on any real information. One dismissive glance from a coworker can instantly turn into I knew she didn’t like me. Our stories are also about self-protection. I told myself Steve was blaming me so I could be mad instead of admitting that I was vulnerable or afraid of feeling inadequate. I could disengage from the tougher stuff. That’s what human beings tend to do: When we’re under threat, we run. If we feel exposed or hurt, we find someone to blame, or blame ourselves before anyone else can, or pretend we don’t care.”  (source)

I love to analyze, and I spend a lot of time in my own head, trying to figure things out. This can lead to some nasty storytelling, which I’ve been aware of for a long time, but it wasn’t until I read this book that it became clear to me while I was in the process of doing it.

It was one of those long, bumpier than normal kind of days, and I had already helped our sweet children through a long list of complaints, negative attitudes, and many other parenting challenges by the time Ben got home from work. While he was still by the door, yet another behaviour issue exploded, and I reached my limit. Ben could tell I was done for the day, and any parenting after that point could get a bit scary, so he, in an effort to be helpful, said, “Why don’t you go into the other room and let me handle this?”

Because of the frustration of the moment, I misunderstood his intent – Ben was trying to be helpful, but I thought he was telling me to go to the other room because I couldn’t keep calm while dealing with the situation. Instead of getting mad at our kid, I got mad at Ben. I held it in until I got to our bedroom, but I was furious with him, and feeling extremely justified. How dare he suggest that I was not capable of parenting our children in an appropriate manner? How could he make such a comment in front of our kids, criticizing my self-control and ability to handle the situation? “Somehow,” I thought to myself, “I manage to care for all three children every single day, all day long, while he is off relaxing in his office at work without any tantrums, screaming, or bad attitudes exploding in his face repeatedly!” (Like all he does all day is relax, but in the moment, I was not entirely reasonable!)

As these very heated thoughts blazed their way through my mind, Brene Brown’s question popped up: “What story am I making up in my head?” Immediately, I started to get curious. Why was I responding this way? What was making me so mad? What was going on behind all this anger?

The realization struck me – I was taking Ben’s words and interpreting them in a way which fueled insecurities about my parenting, rather than hearing what he was actually saying. He was offering me a break after a long day, but I was taking it as criticism of my parenting, and responding with anger on the surface, when deep down, I was actually feeling hurt and insecure in my parenting. I was ashamed that I couldn’t keep things under control, and disappointed with myself for how the day had gone.

It’s a lot harder to be honest about insecurity than about anger, but it makes for a much calmer, less explosive conversation. Because my issue was not even about anger, we would have gotten nowhere trying to work out what was making me “mad”, until I could recognize what was truly going on underneath. Once our kids were in bed, we had time to talk it over, and I couldn’t believe how much harder it was to tell him I was feeling shame and inadequacy as a parent, as well as hurt because I misunderstood his offer to help as a subtle sign of judgement.

I wanted to be mad, because it was easier, but admitting to the messier stuff underneath brought things to the surface which I needed to work through on my own, and had nothing to do with Ben.

Brene Brown Quotesource

It is really tempting to deny responsibility, or deny the messy, ugly truth deep down inside us. But that incident with Ben, which really had nothing to do with Ben, made me feel so much better when I could identify what was truly going on, and face the messy stuff. I still have a lot more internal housecleaning to do, but it makes a big difference already to be aware of these feelings of insecurity or inadequacy I have as a parent, and the lies they’re telling me.

All of this makes me curious about what else is lurking down there. I think I have a lot more stories to explore, and some brave new endings to write!