Week 6 - 49 years 5 Weeks

This post is probably going to feel a little different than previous posts. It may feel a little wandering and a little ranty. It may feel scattered and unfocused. That’s because today I feel different than I have the past few weeks. I feel scattered and unfocused, wandering and ranty.

I had a whole plan for today’s post and now, at the 11th hour, I’m tabling that idea and spontaneously going in another direction. Because truth be told, I don’t have it in me to write “ An Open Letter To My Children” today. I will write it another day as it’s definitely something I want to share, but today is not the day.

Today, I’m overwhelmed and anxious and struggling. It’s blustery outside and the wind is working my nerves. I want to crawl under my covers, close my eyes and pray that the world melts away. Today I am not ok. I think it’s really important to share this with you because as much as we pay lip service to the idea that “It’s ok to not be ok”, it doesn’t feel like we actually support that concept in real life.

I’m going to be really honest with you here, if you’re now looking forward to reading on to see the antidote to not being ok with not being ok, I don’t have it. Not today. Today, all I can do is share with you that sometimes shit stinks, and you can’t pretend that it doesn’t.

And also, whether we want to admit it or not, whether we realize it or not, there is a very deeply ingrained expectation that we should be ok. And if we’re not ok it should be a fleeting moment, not to interfere with the day to day workings of our lives.

I don’t know exactly how we got here to the place of judgment and “shoulds”, but here we are.

There’s a song coursing through my head called “It’s OK” by Nightbirde. You can hear it here. Nightbirde’s given name is Jane. She wrote this song and it became popular when she sang it on American Idol. (I believe that’s the show she was on.) She was not yet 30, if memory serves, and she was battling cancer. The song is beautiful and fun and up lifting. And it’s also a little heartbreaking because Nightbirde eventually lost her battle to cancer. In this song she sings about how we’re all a little lost and that that’s ok.

I share this with you because I’m aware of the fact that when I get this song stuck in my head, it’s because I’m trying to convince myself that I’m fine, it’s fine, everything is fine. And I wonder why it feels so important to me to believe that I’m fine when I’m not. What is wrong with not being ok?

I don’t have any desire to not be ok forever. I don’t want to fall into a victim mentality or place the responsibility for my not being ok on anyone else, or any circumstance outside of me. I guess I just want to normalize the storm as much as we normalize the beach day.

I know a lot of you get what I’m saying. I know you know. And the opposition is always some version of, “Life doesn't stop for an emotional hurricane.” And ok fine, but maybe it should. And I don’t mean, life should actually stop. But where is the space for women to experience the full spectrum of our emotions and the cyclical nature of our bodies and hormones without feeling like we’re letting the whole world down when we do, not to mention letting ourselves down?

This isn’t about feeling sorry for ourselves. This isn’t about wanting some knight in shining armor to come save the day. This isn’t about feeling resentful about being overworked and underappreciated. It’s about acknowledging that our entire world is set up in accordance with a very masculine “Go, Do, Fix” energy, which leaves very little room for the full expression of feminine “Swirl, Twirl, Create” energy.

It’s not my intention to get into a man versus women conversation, or to suggest that men are the problem. I don’t like the blame game. It does nothing to move the situation forward. What I do mean to say is that women are an extension of Mother Nature. We are the hurricanes and the thunderstorms, as much as we are the spring days and the warm summer nights.

We are sometimes savage and ruthless, and we’ll tear limb from limb those who threaten our home or family. We will tirelessly search or work for food, and sustain our own hunger to feed our young. We are also nurturing and gentle. We bring life into the world. We are creative. We are an eternal ebb and flow. We are soft and sultry. Innocents and vixens. We are cunning and clever. Sexy and sweet. Brilliant and audacious. Generous and shrewd. And everything in between.

So why then, do I feel so much pressure to be as near to perfect as possible, all the time? Why, if I know damn well that I am all the things, why do I try so hard to only be the pleasing things? Why do I work so hard to be polite? To make sure others are comfortable? To mind my place and my own business? To be palatable and sweet? Especially on days when inside I’m really a salty tidal wave?

Did I create these expectations for myself? Did I inherit them? Was I taught them as a child, and have since chosen to accept them? Do I adhere to them for my own personal safety in a society where it’s dangerous to be a woman?

I don’t know the answer. I just know that it's something I will continue to work on. I will continue to find ways to normalize the full nature of being a woman. I will continue to talk about the idea that a woman isn’t fully a woman if she isn’t a gale force wind as much as she is a sweet summer breeze. We cannot be true to ourselves and our nature as women if we are only ever sugar and spice and everything nice.

Today I am a flooded river - overflowing with the overwhelm of responsibility and midlife bullshit. Tomorrow I may be a gentle stream - crisp, clear, and bubbling along over smooth stones. What I will not be ever again on any day, is pretending to be a beach day when I’m really a blizzard.

If you ask me how I am, I will not tell you “I’m good!” with a smile and a giggle, if I’m actually annoyed, cranky, and bitter. And I won’t support the idea that feeling annoyed, cranky, and bitter is not a perfectly normal part of being a woman.

So the fuck what if my “unpleasant” emotions are uncomfortable for you? - Not you specifically, sweet reader! The general, collective You that feels entitled to my pleasantness regardless of how I’m feeling. The You that would have me believe that if I’m not able to be nice, I should just be quiet. The You that would suggest I can’t be emotional and also valuable.

And I’m aware that perhaps this pressure I’m feeling to be on point all the time is self imposed. Maybe other women don’t feel this way, but that seems unlikely to me. And while it may be self imposed, it still feels real.

I’m actually not sure what my point in writing this blog is, to be honest. I just know that today this is me; unfiltered, unapologetic, unaccommodating, blustery, drizzly, ranty, with furrowed brow, and every bit as much of a wonderful, beautiful, powerful, amazing woman as I ever have been.

And I hope you know that the same is true for you. Fuck expectations. Fuck ideas that say there’s only one right way. Fuck thinking that we always have to be nice and smiley and pleasant. Fuck trying to keep the peace and stroke fragile egos. I don’t need to be fixed. I don’t need a solution. I don’t need a plan. I only need to not feel like a freak of nature when I’m being natural.

I won’t speak for you, but sometimes I’m a flat out bitch. And you know what? THAT’S ok!

Well, I’ve said all I want to say for today. I feel better having shared what’s on my heart. As I said in the beginning of this post, perhaps it’s not what you’re used to or were expecting, but it’s real, and it’s honest. I want us all to know that we can be the storm and the calm. The storm is not something to be avoided or extinguished. It can exist alongside the calm pleasantness. It’s an intentional, purposeful part of being a woman. It’s a beautiful part of being a woman.

Embrace the storm!

​

Blessings and beach days & thunderstorms forever,

​
Katie