Becoming & Unbecoming

I think the biggest feeling, as I sit in my feelings…because that's what you do these days. I teach my kids in the best amateur way possible to sit with their feelings and now here I am sitting with mine. I might be just a little bit heartbroken. Not a lot. Just a little bit. Before, in my last big heartbreak which was in 2019 - I was devastated. I think that was because it was only one person holding my heart. This time there were two little people holding my heart in addition to a big one who is exiting in a big way. 

I know that my two little children have no idea they are holding my heart and keeping it safe. I show up for them even when I am fighting back tears with pain in my chest from the immense stress of divorce. I look at their small faces and see happiness, laughter, and innocence. A reminder of how simple life can be when lately at times it feels just oh so big. 

When I became a Mother, I just couldn't comprehend how strong my littles ones would make me. One way is managing emotions. Not theirs. Mine. 

My emotions at times were BIG. I then see two small faces watching me and all the sudden I realize my emotions can't be bigger than them. That doesn't mean pretending I'm fine. It doesn't mean swallowing everything or teaching them that sadness is something we hide. It means feeling it and moving through it. Letting myself be sad without letting sadness become the whole room.

I can feel it. I can acknowledge it. And eventually, I can release it.

The moment I feel as tiny as I could possibly feel. I knew I needed to make a change. They couldn't have a Mother who was disappearing. Being unseen. Unheard. And I knew something had to change. My boys couldn't have a mother who was disappearing. So, I had to put my big-girl panties on even though I really, really didn't want to and make a choice.

There were expectations I had absorbed about marriage. About what being a good wife looked like. About what I should be able to carry. About how hard I should try before I was allowed to say, this isn't working anymore. Some of those expectations were mine. Some belonged to someone else. And some I'm pretty sure were handed to women somewhere around 1953 and we've just been carrying them around ever since.

I'm learning to put them down.

And maybe that's what unbecoming looks like. 

Letting go and reflecting reminds me that my story does belong to me. I found myself not telling my story and didn't give myself permission until my therapist said This is your story to tell. No one can tell you not too. 

Light bulb! I have permission to tell the truth even if it hurts someone, to tell my experience, that it matters. Letting go of the belief that protecting everyone else should require abandoning myself. All things I am still learning and unlearning. Part of becoming and unbecoming. 

- KM


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