Ever have those days (or weeks) that you feel like the water is rising around you...and somebody is under you...in scuba gear secretly attaching more weight to your feet? Yea...it's been one of those days for about...a year. Actually, it felt a lot like the new exercise class I went to last night called RIP. Theoretically, the initials of the class stand for Reps Integration Power, but I'm sure it is just a fancy cover-up for the real meaning of RIP. Yeah, there is one real meaning of RIP, and it will never change. False advertising. Plain. Old. False. Advertising. Not what I ordered! Hello!!! #endrant. I digress.
Apparently, someone got my "Life Order" mixed up with someone else's. I pulled through the drive thru of life, ordered a neatly arranged Bento Box, drove home through the pouring rain...uphill (both ways)...starving.... opened the bag....and there it was. A Taco Bell Tostada slopped together and placed in the bag... on it's side. Really? Where is the life I signed up for? The one that was easy and perfect?. The one that was neatly organized, compartmentalized, categorized, and perfect. Not what I ordered.
I am taking an online class by Brene Brown which, by the way, is awesome, but the shit is down right hard. Show Up. Be Seen. Be Vulnerable. ...especially when you are struggling. It's hard to tell people my life is a sideways tostada when everyone sees me as a Bento Box--one that has the fancy sushi in in by the way. Organized, perfect, things never touch. Yep...mine, is a slopped together tostada.
Yesterday, as I sat in my therapist's office, she said, "You need to let people see your quirky self. It's fun. And they will love you for that. You need to be vulnerable." It was at that moment that I wondered if the Universe was playing some ugly "you're on candid camera joke" or if it was a sign. If it was a joke....it wasn't funny. I don't want to do the hard stuff. I don't want to unslop the tostada. I want it the way I ordered it!
Life isn't like that though. It's o.k. for others to see your slop. Your two failed marriages. The struggles of blended families. Teenagers who are spreading their wings--poking you in the eye. Narcissistic Parents (the kind your well-seasoned therapist says I've never seen anything quite like them). The job that is more dysfunctional than a you can imagine...and working with your ex husband as a colleague. The challenges of dating. It's o.k.
The "real" people around you also feel the water level rising. They are the ones figuring out how to eat those sideways tostadas with a spork instead of the neatly arranged Bento Box with chopsticks.
By the way....No offense to "The Bell" I love it, but it is far from my healthy, neatly organized, Bento Box order.
Apparently, someone got my "Life Order" mixed up with someone else's. I pulled through the drive thru of life, ordered a neatly arranged Bento Box, drove home through the pouring rain...uphill (both ways)...starving.... opened the bag....and there it was. A Taco Bell Tostada slopped together and placed in the bag... on it's side. Really? Where is the life I signed up for? The one that was easy and perfect?. The one that was neatly organized, compartmentalized, categorized, and perfect. Not what I ordered.
I am taking an online class by Brene Brown which, by the way, is awesome, but the shit is down right hard. Show Up. Be Seen. Be Vulnerable. ...especially when you are struggling. It's hard to tell people my life is a sideways tostada when everyone sees me as a Bento Box--one that has the fancy sushi in in by the way. Organized, perfect, things never touch. Yep...mine, is a slopped together tostada.
Yesterday, as I sat in my therapist's office, she said, "You need to let people see your quirky self. It's fun. And they will love you for that. You need to be vulnerable." It was at that moment that I wondered if the Universe was playing some ugly "you're on candid camera joke" or if it was a sign. If it was a joke....it wasn't funny. I don't want to do the hard stuff. I don't want to unslop the tostada. I want it the way I ordered it!
Life isn't like that though. It's o.k. for others to see your slop. Your two failed marriages. The struggles of blended families. Teenagers who are spreading their wings--poking you in the eye. Narcissistic Parents (the kind your well-seasoned therapist says I've never seen anything quite like them). The job that is more dysfunctional than a you can imagine...and working with your ex husband as a colleague. The challenges of dating. It's o.k.
The "real" people around you also feel the water level rising. They are the ones figuring out how to eat those sideways tostadas with a spork instead of the neatly arranged Bento Box with chopsticks.
By the way....No offense to "The Bell" I love it, but it is far from my healthy, neatly organized, Bento Box order.