If you watch Grey’s Anatomy or you have read Shonda Rhymes Year of Yes, you know of the superhero pose:
“Standing around like Wonder Woman in the morning can make people think you are more amazing at lunchtime.” Stand up like a badass, legs in a wide stance, chin up, hands on your hips. Like you own the place. Like you have on a magical silver bracelets and know how to use them. Like your superhero cape is flapping behind you!
-Shonda Rymes, Year of Yes
First, Year of Yes is an awesome book. Second, buy the book. Everyone should read the book!
I never realized I had an inner superhero until long after I’d lost her.
I grew up in a small town. From as far back as I can remember, I felt like a fish out of water. I mean no disrespect to anyone in my family or the town I grew up in. I simply always longed to see and experience what the world had to offer, and I never felt like I belonged, even in my own family. I often felt like an outsider looking in, wondering what was wrong with me.
I always had a lot of fear in me, deep down, paralyzing fear. Fear that held me back, fear that left me on the sidelines. There was always a voice in my head saying “you don’t need that” “stop over-reaching” “why can’t you appreciate what you have” “it’s good enough for us” – years later I would learn that the voice in my head was the mother.
At the age of 12, I began planning my escape. Things happened that year, things that scarred my soul. 12-13 were hard years for me. Being the good girl I was, I never said a word about my struggles. Never once, to anyone. But, I knew I wouldn’t stay. I just had to get to high school graduation. 12 year olds should never think like that.
At age 14 I read the book Scruples, or as I like to say, sex education in paperback! It was a great book full of adventure, strong women…and sex! I hid that book for a long time because, well, the mother did not need to know I had read all THAT! (When she read the book, I got yelled at.) But the sex part didn’t make an impact near as much as Paris did. It was then that I fell in love with the idea of seeing Paris. Paris was Utopia, my ultimate goal. I had to get to Paris. When I would mention that? I was told I didn’t need to go to Paris. There was nothing in Paris for me. “It’s just a book. Stop trying to be someone you’re not.” “Everything there is old, there’s nothing to see.” “Parisians are rude.” “Be realistic. People like us don’t go to Paris.”
Throughout high school, I began to come into my own. I credit a few amazing teachers who saw potential in me, encouraged and mentored me. They truly changed the path of my life and made me believe I DID deserve all the world had to offer. I could BE more, DO more, WANT more.
I took part in Future Homemakers of America and was able to travel to regional and state meetings, participate in competitions, and meet new people who were not from our small community. Me? Homemaker? It wasn’t just about that so much as giving young women the skills to be amazing.
By Senior year, things were clicking for me. I was evolving into a confident person whose fear of everything was slowly being replaced with anticipation for the future. The beginnings of my superhero cape were forming.
I became a regional officer for FHA. The leadership training and time spent with my advisor was a true, life-changing gift. The mother did not approve. She didn’t understand why I never wanted to be home. That was her stance. Me, looking for excuses to be gone, wanting more than I really needed…
My music teacher encouraged me to sing the National Anthem at our first or second home football game. A Capella. I don’t remember that very well. I recall walking out onto the field, taking a few breath, and for the first time, unconsciously assuming the super-hero stance. I remember it ending and people being amazingly kind and complimentary. I thought, if I could do that, I could do anything!
There was a flurry of music training, music and FHA camps, drama, and other FHA related activities in high school. It all prepared me for life on the outside (although I did not realize that at the time.) Gifts I never took for granted.
Those experiences taught me to perform.
If nothing else, I could push the fear down and PRETEND I was brave. I could put on my game face, assume the superhero pose, step “on stage” and be amazing.
I desperately wanted to go to college. That was not encouraged at home. Waste of time. Waste of money. We didn’t go to college, we are doing fine. “What have we ever done to make you want to leave? “You’ll get no help from us!”
She kept that vicious promise, and I was determined to NEVER move back home and let her win. I won a few scholarships, but in the end, the choice was college or rent. I ended up ending my brief college career and losing those precious scholarships. “You just have to work hard, you don’t need more than that.” “Come home and I will take care of you. Just come back home.”
My superhero cape had a tear in it. I’d failed. I couldn’t figure out how to make college happen on my own. I was all of 19, how could I let that happen? I later learnedthatnlack of parental support was punishment #1 for having the audacity to move out of the house after graduation. That tear in my cape was the first of many.
I was 23, I think, when I decided to go to a trade school and get my accounting certificate. I needed more skills to get a better job. That opened the door for my 17 year career at a company that changed my life. I learned amazing skills in the accounting and IT departments, and they didn’t care that I didn’t have a degree (that wasn’t as big a deal in the 80’s and 90’s as it is now.)
While I excelled at work, I did not excel at a personal life. I fell into a rut, believing, finally, that if I just worked hard I didn’t need anything else. I had drank the Koolaid. My cape was slowly shredding. She had won. A business trip to Florida woke me up and changed the course of everything.
A co-worker invited me to spend the weekend with her. We went to the beach. I experienced downtown. This was a place I could see myself living in. It wasn’t Paris, but there was 28 miles of white sandy beaches. It was kind of like the Santa Cruz I remembered when I was really little, without the boardwalk. The place my Nana taught me to love the ocean. The mother hated that my Nana had such influence in me.
St Petersburg Florida is an amazing city with a small town feel. The vibe, the pace, it all just clicked for me at that time. It was exactly the change I needed to make, and I hadn’t been looking for a change!
I took a deep breath and made a superhero decision to move. That was twenty years ago. My cape was slowly mending itself.
That decison began a 19 year battle with the mother, full of anger, hostility, lies, manipulations and verbal abuse. I was over-reaching again. She must have failed if I needed to live so far from her. Yada. Yada. Yada. As hard as I tried to fight it, she continued to influence me. My poor cape.
I blossomed. I took up volunteering and focused on fundraising. I was a member of the Junior League (which made the mother crazy, me being one of those “stuck up, elitists”. “You’re not one of them. You never will be. Stop over-reaching.”) I worked with Race for the Cure. I loved volunteering, giving back, being a part of something bigger. It was satisfying.
It took superhero powers to approach businesses for funding. Hell, I solicited $500 from my gynecologist while my feet were in the sturrups! I was terrified, but I was DOING. Living. Being.
I finally went back to school. Twenty-odd years after failing, I was back. I loved it. I did amazingly well. I got a bachelors in three years, while working full time. I worked, I studied, I went to class, I did homework. That was my life. The response from home? “That’s a waste of money. Why do you continue to want more than you are meant to have?” “You are wasting your time, you need to come home.”
I graduated, exhausted, run down, and numb. As much as I loved school, keeping up with everything took a toll on me. A few months later my 17 year career came to an end. Changes were in the air and I did not want to be a part of them. While I don’t regret leaving when I did, doing so broke my spirit. That was my home, the place I had grown into an adult, it was in my blood. My boss and I didn’t part on the best of terms and that ate me up as well. Part of me has never fully recovered from the loss. My cape had a new, huge tear and a few shredded areas.
I ventured out on my own and started a business. Timing was bad, economics were not in my favor, and try as I might, I couldn’t make a go of it. When my biz ended, the experience broke me some more. My cape looked like Swiss cheese.
The last ten years have been, well, hell in many ways. The abuse from the mother plus the ups and downs of my finances, health, and overall life…everything I tried to achieve left me scarred and two steps behind where if begun. Soul sucking is the word you’re looking for. The pressure from the mother became unbearable.
That brave little girl retreated and my inner superhero disappeared. The cape fell into ruins, and the remnants blew away in the crazy, wild winds that were ruling my life.
In the last two years I blew out my ankle a a second and third time. The mother died, and I felt guilty for feeling relieved. The father died. I reconnected with family I had been denied a relationship with most of my life. I learned a great deal about the truth of my childhood and the lengths the mother would go for absolute control. I woke up and saw the mother for the insane, sociopath she truly was.
In the end, I was going through the paces. Get up. Go to work. Go home. Sleep sometimes. Get up. Go to work…
This week I realized…I am a shell of my former self.
In the shower a couple days ago, I realized I need to get that brave little girl back. I need to make a new cape. I assumed the superhero pose. I stood there, allowing the water to wash off the grime of the previous day and some from the previous years. I realized I will need a lot of showers to wash all that grime away. I began searching for that brave 12 year old who wanted to escape that world and have more. This world, my world, needs her.
I decided to enter performance mode. Put on my game face, every day. Strike the superhero pose, every day. Push the fear back, every day. I expect some days will go better than others. I have to keep moving forward.
I can see that little girl, peaking out from the sideline, tentatively deciding how to proceed. I need to coax her out again.
I need to be brave, get out of my way, and return to me.
PS: I went to Paris in 2004. It was was amazing as I thought it would be. In fact, on that trip I saw Rome, Florence, Vincenza, Venice, Milan, and Paris. I will go back. I will have coffee at a cafe and eat strawberry crepes. I will sit among the artists on the steer and sketch the most beautiful city on earth. A superhero can do that.
Photo from Grey’s Anatomy borrowed from https://goo.gl/images/mVgdaz
Summer has hit Florida. Not, you know, like August Summer…I’d call this May Summer. In April. August summer is hell on earth. May summer is warm enough to be uncomfortable, but nice in the evenings.
I have put away the leggings and taken out the skirts. The fans are dusted and going. My home and wardrobe are switched over to summer mode. My water consumption is increasing.
Water consumption? Yes! The warmer it gets, the more water I drink.
My grandfather (who I always called Papa) used to drink ice tea in the winter and hot coffee in the summer. He reasoned that the liquids helped maintain his body temperature and keep him from becoming too hot or too cold. I remember telling him that was crazy. It was a blistering hot 110+ day in July, and he had stopped by the house for lunch. He ate his sandwich, drank steaming hot coffee from his thermos, and tried to explain to my why it worked for him. I’m still not sold on that one.
What I can tell you, now that I’m a grown up and all, is that when it’s warmer, I feel more thirsty. My water consumption jumps about a third. A THIRD! And maybe it’s my Papa’s influence on me, or maybe it’s in the genes, but…I don’t drink ice water. I like my water room temperature…even if that room is 90 degrees. I don’t care much for cold drinks or drinks that are overly hot. Call me Goldilocks, I like the liquid temperature just right. Unless it’s white wine. Wine should always be chilled. And Moscow Mules. And Bloody Marys…
Now, let’s talk about my water habit. I drink a lot of water. Still water, sparkling water with no sodium or calories, and herbal tea. I shoot for half my body weight in ounces each day. Yes, I said half. Yes, depending on how things are going in my life, that is often a lot of water.
(Side note: when you drink that much water, you need to pace yourself. If you don’t, you will be up every half hour all night long. Find your cutoff time and stick to it. Trust me. Learn from me. )
During the winter, I hit about 40-60% of that goal. Now that it’s warmer? I’m getting closer. Every day I drink a little bit more. Yes, I count. I have an app that I track it in. I can look at a glass and guess pretty darn close how many ounces it will hold. I have cups and glasses that I drink from daily so I don’t have to guess. Obsessed? No. Accurate!
Water is good for the body. It makes our skin look and feel better. It washes our insides. It gives toxins a way to exit the body. It helps with the poops. Water is a good thing.
Now that the days are longer, I will begin walking again. That means even more water. Water helps maintain your weight, it helps keep you from dehydrating, it’s just plain good for you.
My general rule is, IF I have something with caffeine or alcohol, I drink that much more water to counteract it. OK, I have caffeine once or twice a month. I have alcohol once or twice a week. I always have extra water when I indulge. Which I do. On occasion.
I am working on getting my water consumption back up to par before I begin using my new beauty regimen. Water will only help! Let’s face it, I lack any kind of regimen right now, so ANYTHING will help, right?
Drink your water. It’s good for you!
I drive past 12 osprey nests on the way to and from work. Most are within a one mile stretch of road. Every day o see the nests, and often times I see the birds, beautiful, magnificent creatures that amaze me.
I wish them good morning each day. I count how many I see. They make me smile. I know it will be a good day when I see them. How can it not be?
Friday night I happened upon an Osprey Cam for one of the nests. According to the blog, there were two babies and a third egg waiting to hatch. My bank has adopted these osprey and had ensured them a safe home. The story of this family is heartwarming.
Saturday I tuned in periodically throughout the day. I saw the mama and the babies, the papa bird bringing them a fish, the feeding. It was magical.
When I got news that a wonderful person I know received a devastating cancer diagnosis, I pulled up the osprey. When the work day ended and I was tired and overwhelmed, I pulled up the osprey. It was then I noticed one baby was motionless. I cried. The other baby was active and I clung to the idea that it was the bright spot of the day. New life, so cute, so sweet. Hope in a nest.
Over dinner I learned that a second wonderful person’s husband received a devastating cancer diagnosis. No way! Back to the osprey. As the sun began to set, mama and baby were settled in, and again, the adorable life in that nest was a bright shiny spot as I thought of my friends.
Sunday morning I tuned in. I couldn’t see the baby. My heart dropped and I became concerned. An hour later I saw the Facebook post: both babies had passed.
Mother Nature let me down.
I cried for an hour. I assumed the fetal position, snuggles with my cat and cried the loud, ugly cry. I cried off and on the rest of the day. I have tears now, even as I type this. What happened? Why? How do the parents feel? How will we go on?
Mother Nature had other plans for those sweet babies. Mother Nature can bite me…letting me fall in love then ripping my heart out. Heavy sigh.
Some days you need more baby osprey and less real life.
I checked the Osprey Cam yesterday evening and the mama was eating a fish. The nest looked so…quiet. Sadness washed over me again.
Today I will see the 12 nests I’ve become an expert at spotting. If I time my commute right I will see 4-8 osprey hanging out watching commuters go by. Eleven is the record.
I’m not sure my heart can take more bad news right now. May today be free of death and disease.
If you’d like to see my friends the osprey, you can tune into the live feed anytime. They are fascinating creatures that will continue to enchant me.
(If you’re new here, I first introduced Herman in Derailed on May 31. I talked about him again a few times, including in Yearly Doctor Visit on January 27, 2017. Herman is the area of my head that began as a concussion, but I now know is a skull fracture. It’s fascinating to me how the brain and body works. Making him a person in my life has helped me cope with much better than when he was simply “the lump”. Don’t fall of a ladder and you won’t have to worry about having a Herman in your life!)
Herman has been quiet for a while. He behaved, he let me sleep at night (with my head on a pillow sometimes!) he didn’t bother me during the day, in fact, I kind of forgot about him…I figure he was on vacation. Maybe a cruise, or a trip abroad. Wherever he was, I was happy for the solitude…
…He’s back. He’s back and he obviously doesn’t like what I’ve been up to! Herman needs a new hobby. It began on Friday when things got really crazy and hectic at work. I was working the register, ringing up people who had just finished their fabulous experience at our shop. The rest of the staff was working on helping them get packed up and re-configuring our space to accommodate a class of 18 people the next day. It was a huge undertaking.
As luck would have it, I got too many questions from too many people, plus the phone began ringing and customers needed attention. Suddenly, it was as if I was moving in slow motion. Everything around me was moving at super speed and I was unable to do anything but observe. I quickly realized that this was not good, and removed myself from the chaos. I went back to the register, ignored the phone and focused on one customer at a time.
Within about twenty minutes, the store was cleared out, the area re-set, and Herman was bothering me. The tingly sensation was back, and the dull throb began. He’s been with me for four days now. He doesn’t want me putting my head on a pillow, he’s a bit sore, and he’s reminding me to slow the heck down!
Herman really amazes me. This fellow who lives in my head and reminds me to step back, slow down, and behave. I had a hectic week last week, and he stepped in. It’s a love/hate relationship I have with Herman. Most of the time his timing stinks. I have a lot on my plate right now and need to keep a pace. He loves me enough to make me slow down and not keep a pace.
Oh Herman. Whatever will I do with you?
I had a birthday this past week. 51. 5-1. I lived to tell the tale! I had a very nice week, filled with friendship, excellent wine, fabulous food and celebrations. I received some nice gifts too! The best one might have been a home cooked meal. Seriously. A meal that I did not have to cook, complete with dessert! mmmm…Happy birthday to me!
It’s shake night again! I actually have a pile of sample packets I’ve picked up that I need to actually DRINK! Tonight’s is a product called Gardenia, and it’s labeled as “all-natural vegan protein”.
Why vegan? The companies tend to put the least crap in many of the vegan options out there. Plus, I was vegan for five years. I don’t want whey or cassein in my body. I’m lactose intolerant, I don’t need the cassein!
So, how does this one pan out? Really good! I would absolutely get this one again. It boasts Pea, Hemp, and Quinoa protein, raw and sprouted whole grain. I’m good with that. It’s gluten/dairy/soy/peanut free. It has some antioxidants via pomegranate, coconut and other things. The flavor I chose was Chocolate Cacao.
I put it in my shaker cup, added 12 ounces of cold water and shook. It shook up and dissolved quickly! It’s not thick, but it’s tasty. No aftertaste, no weird smell. It’s got a bunch of fruit, and I don’t see sugar on the label. Hmm, that’s a plus! The only con? I drank it slowly, and it got thick at the bottom. So, I added a little more water, shook it up again, and finished it.
Another good one!