Uncomfortable in My Own Skin

blue eye

I’m gonna be a little more personal then usual in this post.  Don’t worry, nothing freaky.  Just a little more to maybe help you see that you’re “not the only one”, and that phases of life come and go and we all survive them somehow.

The last few years of my life have been…life changing.  A lot has happened.  I’ve brought two children into the world, altered my career trajectory, made some major adjustments to my religious & spiritual belief system, lost some very important relationships, and somehow managed to maintain a healthy and loving relationship with my husband through everything we’ve been through.  It’s a success.  But it’s been hard.

I’m not a woman who loves being pregnant and loves having kids.  I despise pregnancy and I struggle with postpartum anxiety (which is sort of like collecting every anxious moment of your entire life and stuffing it all into a period of 2 months).  It takes me about a year to feel like myself again after childbirth.  So those two years after my kids were born, though I made the best of them and enjoyed those baby moments, were some of the hardest of my life.

And now here I am, sitting on my couch with my Apple laptop (never thought that would happen), in this house that I own (never thought I’d get one of those on a Movie Composer’s salary), next to my ridiculously sexy husband (love ya, babe) and two kids and two dogs (they’re still alive somehow!!):

20131025_Haynie_Family_056

And it’s….

uncomfortable.

I mean, it’s wonderful, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life, but it’s just so different from the “me” I remember from the first 28 years of my life.

Things used to be so much more normal.  More predictable.  More usual.  And now everything is different, and unexpected, and unanswerable, and sometimes speeding by at a million miles an hour.  My friends are having children, my acquaintances are losing children, and my siblings are still acting like children (baha!!! jk, love you all).  The potential for disparity, poverty, and death are so much more real now.

Yet I wouldn’t go back.  Not for one second.  I see my old self, and I love her.  She was sweet, and smart, and more talented than she realized.  The me I see today is the same me from back then – but more aware, more understanding of my deeper self and my emotions, more rooted in reality.  I no longer live with the low self-confidence, the worries about relationships, and the daily personal guilt that I dealt with back then.

So really, in the end….

Sometimes it’s nice to be uncomfortable.

 

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