I have a secret language that I speak inside my head. When I’m feeling brave, I write this way. It’s my own kind of prose, words have a rhythm and sentences flow. Phrases turn and swirl into what I like to call my butterfly language. When I’m honest and I write like this, I feel like it looks weird on
paper screen, I’ve only gotten a few good responses when I use this language – I’m afraid it doesn’t make sense. Which is why most of my writing style is more train-of-thought like.
I’ve been introspective lately, and vulnerable – not in a bad way, just….my heart keeps emerging from my chest and wanting to place itself on my sleeve. It’s fluttering about looking for a place to land, leaving me feeling insecure and causing awkward (to me) social hiccups which I, in turn, overcompensate for.
It’s a new stage of me, just like a caterpillar coming out of a cocoon and realizing it’s a butterfly. The confusion, the vulnerability of feeling so open and exposed, and yet so alive. The first few moments of flying, or attempting to fly probably result in somewhat embarrassing moments – colliding with the earth and bumping into plants, I imagine they feel a little over apologetic too, in this growing stage.
But I realized, as I’ve had a lot of time to think, that this is a good sign. It means I’m evolving, I’m becoming myself and growing. More importantly, I’m growing braver, my masks are coming off and I’m still flying a little awkwardly, still fighting oh so many insecurities that come with exposing myself, my soul coughs and makes messes, but that’s okay.
I am in a vulnerable existence, but one that is very much alive. I will use my prose voice and wax as eloquent as I wish, because…..why not?
My art journal and painting themes are quickly becoming permission slips for myself. Focusing on granting my heart the thing it needs at that moment and somehow silencing my very loud, harsh, inner critic.
She’s a bitch and always tells me what to do, doesn’t let me sleep when I need to and is generally just cruel. She comes out the most when I need a break, and makes me feel bad about not doing things immediately and has no patience. She claims the world will end if those chores aren’t done right now and berates me when I wait and condescendingly tells me “If you had done it earlier, you wouldn’t have to do it now while you’re trying to do this other thing.”
Or, her other favorite:
“You’re really stupid and worthless, you should have been doing something constructive instead. Something to make money instead of doing all this useless crap. You’re not even good at anything anyway”
Somedays, she holds me hostage and I can’t bring myself to do anything (literally).
After wrestling all day with Miss Monday, I realized that art would be the one thing to make her go away. While it’s text and words, is the permission I needed to see and Miss Monday decided to start backing off. Finally.
I’m in a weird place. My support group has sort of eroded and I’m standing in the middle between a place I want to be and being sad because I feel like I’ve lost most of the people who’ve really helped me over the last few years.
Truth is, I’ve moved on. I’m not completely done baking, but my needs are changing, my heart is beating and I’m ready to find myself in the world again.
Most of my support group have moved on too, just in different ways. Many of the childless couples I met – the first childless couples I met after being married – are no longer childless, and others are looking forward to not staying childless. We’re all sort of moving on to new journeys and I feel distant and sad. I’m moving in a different direction – I can’t join them, and I honestly don’t want to – but I feel bad because of how vehemently I react inside. I don’t know if it’s normal because I don’t know many (any?) couples who don’t want children as strongly as I.
But this is life, I suppose. I’m told there are couples like us, who grow old and never have children because they find fulfillment in living life sans crypods, but I don’t really know where to find them. My circle, my support group, my friends who helped me realize that it was okay to find myself and healthy to be me have moved on to different journeys. That group will always be special and valuable to me, but right now, it’s time for me to start on my own journey – my own rebirth. To find my center and dance to the tribal drums. It’s time to find new circles.