Many of you already know that on May 30th, 2014 I made a bold pledge on my Facebook page:
no shopping for new clothes, shoes or accessories (hello Holy Trinity) until my 42nd birthday on September 6th, 2014.
Are you crazy?
Why would you do that?
You...of all people?
I give you one week!
These are a handful of the responses I got -- none of them surprising.
It is widely known that I love shopping and approach it with the commitment of an elite athlete. After 8 years at Nordstrom, it's almost expected but I have loved shopping since a young age.
I vividly remember shopping not only at Nordstrom Fashion Valley with my mom and sisters (think first bra, first pair of shoes in the women's department moments) but also Bullock's in Mission Valley -- the building that is now Macy's Home Store.
My mom still has one of my all time favorite childhood dresses in her ceder chest -- none other than a YSL blue pin-dot sailor dress with white cotton and lace collar and red grosgrain bow. Heaven. I'll have to dig up a picture of me in it for TBT. It's a wonder Jennifer pledged Delta Gamma and not me in college given the nautical flair I fell in love with back then...
As an adult, for many years now, shopping is what I do to escape, to relax, to feel creative, to feel attractive.
Shopping is what I am do when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am bored, when I am home or when I am on the road.
It fills my time and when I am not shopping, likely I am planning my next trip or making my next list or on my phone making my Nordstrom Wish List even longer.
When I recently found an Old Navy bag with 6 new items in at just sitting in my closet -- it gave me a moment of pause. Wow -- I guess I shop so much, I don't even know what I have.
Then -- that thought got a little deeper -- can I stop if I want to or am I addicted?
This "shop my own closet" challenge will certainly be a way to get in touch with that possibility.
Have I been tempted this week? Yes!
Have I shopped? No!
Admitting it is the first step.
It's going to a long 90+ more days but I think I can do it. What I know for sure is that I will learn a lot about myself during the process.
Want to join me and not shop too? Supporters welcome! God knows you could come shop my closet and find WAY more than you could ever need!
Thanks for following and thanks for your support!
xo
Margaret
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Everyday Miracles
After writing yesterday's post, I felt drained, but in a good way. Being so open and honest was very tough but, at the same time, quite exhilarating. Like peeling off your cover up and letting your skin feel the sun after a long winter...like I had literally stripped down a layer and uncovered what was hiding underneath.
They say that God (the universe, whatever) only gives you what you can handle....and today was proof of that.
One of the very first questions I was asked today (by a 23 year old man who later told me his mom is a year YOUNGER than me) was -- "Margaret, do you have any kids?"
I used to dread that question and believe me, it was asked of me over and over by family, friends and perfect strangers the entire time we were struggling with infertility. I winch just thinking about how hard that question used to be not only to hear, but to answer.
Today, I just smiled and laughed a little at the perfect timing of it and with true peace in my heart, I said to Juan:
"It was never in the cards for my husband and I. We are surrounded by lots of great kids but none of them are ours! Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I have my first on the way, due in November, and I'm so excited about it!"
For almost 15 more minutes, I got to feel Juan's joy, nervousness and excitement as he shared his story with me.
It was an honor to listen to him and to see such happiness on his face.
His story not only made me marvel at the miracle of life but also the miracle of healing.
It is amazing what time and love and the support of so many can do to heal a heart (mine) that once was filled with so much sadness.
Back in 2006 or 2007 (more to come on the challenges of that year in a future post) -- I would have done anything to avoid answering that dreaded question.
Today, I felt such joy for Juan and so much peace in my own heart. It truly is a miracle.
There is a card on my dresser that says: I don't think we know our own strength until we have seen how strong love makes us.
I am so lucky and so blessed that the love of so many healed me and gave me the chance to move on and return to a life full of hope, full of strength.
A miracle? Maybe not....but I think it might be.
They say that God (the universe, whatever) only gives you what you can handle....and today was proof of that.
One of the very first questions I was asked today (by a 23 year old man who later told me his mom is a year YOUNGER than me) was -- "Margaret, do you have any kids?"
I used to dread that question and believe me, it was asked of me over and over by family, friends and perfect strangers the entire time we were struggling with infertility. I winch just thinking about how hard that question used to be not only to hear, but to answer.
Today, I just smiled and laughed a little at the perfect timing of it and with true peace in my heart, I said to Juan:
"It was never in the cards for my husband and I. We are surrounded by lots of great kids but none of them are ours! Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I have my first on the way, due in November, and I'm so excited about it!"
For almost 15 more minutes, I got to feel Juan's joy, nervousness and excitement as he shared his story with me.
It was an honor to listen to him and to see such happiness on his face.
His story not only made me marvel at the miracle of life but also the miracle of healing.
It is amazing what time and love and the support of so many can do to heal a heart (mine) that once was filled with so much sadness.
Back in 2006 or 2007 (more to come on the challenges of that year in a future post) -- I would have done anything to avoid answering that dreaded question.
Today, I felt such joy for Juan and so much peace in my own heart. It truly is a miracle.
There is a card on my dresser that says: I don't think we know our own strength until we have seen how strong love makes us.
I am so lucky and so blessed that the love of so many healed me and gave me the chance to move on and return to a life full of hope, full of strength.
A miracle? Maybe not....but I think it might be.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
take it from the top....or start from the bottom?
I am so grateful for the kind words of support and encouragement on Facebook last night. It was humbling to know that you are joining me on this 30 day journey. Thank you.
All day long, I have been pondering the question that became the title of today's post. In other words, do I stay negative or go positive? My default is "look on the bright side" but I am not sure that the bright side can adquetely explain why I want to share some of my sadder, darker stories here. More importantly, it is that very darkness and sadness that has shaped me into who I am now.
All day long, it's been nagging me and even though I wish it was not -- the answer became clear. Start at the bottom and work your way up. Here's a story that might help shed some light on that darkness..
2004
Like so many couples in their early 30's, Matt and I were newly married and ready to start a family. We did what everyone told us to do -- "wait a year and just enjoy being married". When it came time to start "trying" (I really, really hate that word) we took a lot of other well meaning advice as well.
"Take your temperature", "use this website to chart it", "don't worry for six months to a year, it's normal not to get pregnant at first". My favorite piece of advice was "all it takes is a few too many beers at the Padre Game!"
So six months passed and then almost a year and after all of that well meaning advice, there we were. Not pregnant. I'd hear that phrase over and over again for at least another year.
We did what most couples in our situation do -- consulted our doctors and eventually took all of their well meaning advice: "wear boxers", "take Clomid", "inject yourself with crazy hormones", "spend every morning at the lab and then the clinic following other infertile women around on a sad sort of field trip", "stop drinking caffeine"....you get the picture.
2004, 2005 and into 2006 was like a blur of fertility drugs (which SUCK by the way), appointments, consultations, poking, prodding, and replacing sex (at times) with interuterine inseminations (IUI). Romantic. I once wanted to ask the doctor "was it good for you?" but I couldn't do it. Least she could have done was make me breakfast after...
Diagnosis: unexplained infertility. No reason or explanation of why it was not working for us despite all of the "trying" we were doing -- medically or otherwise.
At one low point of our journey, we got the news of another failed IUI in the Costco parking lot on the way to a 4th of July BBQ. I still hate that parking lot and I still kind of hate the 4th of July.
It was after that sad news that Matt and I decided to take a break and re-evaluate what our next step would be....and wouldn't you know it, all of that well meaning advice to just keep "trying" paid off.
A few days before September 6th, 2006 -- my 34th birthday, I walked downstairs at 6am and while Matt sat, eating his yogurt and banana, I thrust a plastic stick in front of his face that said "pregnant". His mouth dropped open and he said "how did that happen?" Looking back, it was both a sweet and sad comment.
To be pregnant "just because" was such a thrill and such a shock after all we had gone through. We hugged and maybe cried and really just stood there holding each other. Later that morning, I called our doctors and they insisted on a 6 week sonogram since I had been a fertility patient.
Fast forward to the day of the sonogram....
I had the day off and Matt was going to meet me at the doctor's office. I had lunch plans with a girlfriend after and if all went well, I was going to share the news with her and celebrate. We sat in the waiting room together, holding hands and smiling nervously. The doctor called us back and we were so anxious. The sonogram started and in a few quick moments, we knew it was not good news.
Nothing was there. Nothing.
I'm not sure how much time passed really and I can't remember what was said and how it was explained. What I can remember is the crushing feeling in the air, the sadness on Matt's face and the words "ectopic pregnancy".
Instead of Matt going back to school and me going out to lunch, we were sent straight to the hospital. A few hours later, I was in surgery and Matt was in the waiting room with all of the parents.
When I woke up, I was feisty and pissed off. I ripped the oxygen mask off my face and demanded to see Matt. The two staff members in the recovery room calmed me down and told me he was on his way.
After what seemed like an eternity, I finally got to see him and I demanded that we leave right away.
Instead, it was apple juice and graham crackers and finally, a humiliating ride to the car in a wheelchair like I was an old woman who could not walk.
I remember Matt getting in the driver's seat as I slumped into the door on my side and just closed my eyes. I remember waking up the next morning with some bandages on my stomach (laproscopic surgery -- thankfully) and a crushing sadness in my heart.
Someone told me once -- losing a pregnancy is not only losing a child, but the dreams of what that child might have meant. Ten years later, I can still say that is some of the best "advice" I got during our infertility journey.
Until this experience, I had never in my life known such deep sadness and I did not know how to handle it.
For quite some time, I became that girl that was slouched against the car door with her eyes closed. Just going through the motions while silently suffering this loss and coming to terms with what this dream ending meant.
Eventually, I went back to work and stopped slouching and opened my eyes to the world again....but that deep sadness still remained. I cried, I was angry, I asked why over and over.
At some point, I learned the answer to why -- that answer is "unexplained". I will never ever know why and ten years later, I have created a life out of not knowing, of accepting, of being happy with what I do have instead of what I don't have.
This bottom for me is always going to be part of my story. Believe me, I wish it never happened.
But it did and when I look back, I see how this experience changed my life -- eventually for the better.
Sharing this story for the first time publicly ten years later feels scary, good, healthy and above all, necessary.
Thanks for letting me start at the bottom....
xo
Margaret
All day long, I have been pondering the question that became the title of today's post. In other words, do I stay negative or go positive? My default is "look on the bright side" but I am not sure that the bright side can adquetely explain why I want to share some of my sadder, darker stories here. More importantly, it is that very darkness and sadness that has shaped me into who I am now.
All day long, it's been nagging me and even though I wish it was not -- the answer became clear. Start at the bottom and work your way up. Here's a story that might help shed some light on that darkness..
2004
Like so many couples in their early 30's, Matt and I were newly married and ready to start a family. We did what everyone told us to do -- "wait a year and just enjoy being married". When it came time to start "trying" (I really, really hate that word) we took a lot of other well meaning advice as well.
"Take your temperature", "use this website to chart it", "don't worry for six months to a year, it's normal not to get pregnant at first". My favorite piece of advice was "all it takes is a few too many beers at the Padre Game!"
So six months passed and then almost a year and after all of that well meaning advice, there we were. Not pregnant. I'd hear that phrase over and over again for at least another year.
We did what most couples in our situation do -- consulted our doctors and eventually took all of their well meaning advice: "wear boxers", "take Clomid", "inject yourself with crazy hormones", "spend every morning at the lab and then the clinic following other infertile women around on a sad sort of field trip", "stop drinking caffeine"....you get the picture.
2004, 2005 and into 2006 was like a blur of fertility drugs (which SUCK by the way), appointments, consultations, poking, prodding, and replacing sex (at times) with interuterine inseminations (IUI). Romantic. I once wanted to ask the doctor "was it good for you?" but I couldn't do it. Least she could have done was make me breakfast after...
Diagnosis: unexplained infertility. No reason or explanation of why it was not working for us despite all of the "trying" we were doing -- medically or otherwise.
At one low point of our journey, we got the news of another failed IUI in the Costco parking lot on the way to a 4th of July BBQ. I still hate that parking lot and I still kind of hate the 4th of July.
It was after that sad news that Matt and I decided to take a break and re-evaluate what our next step would be....and wouldn't you know it, all of that well meaning advice to just keep "trying" paid off.
A few days before September 6th, 2006 -- my 34th birthday, I walked downstairs at 6am and while Matt sat, eating his yogurt and banana, I thrust a plastic stick in front of his face that said "pregnant". His mouth dropped open and he said "how did that happen?" Looking back, it was both a sweet and sad comment.
To be pregnant "just because" was such a thrill and such a shock after all we had gone through. We hugged and maybe cried and really just stood there holding each other. Later that morning, I called our doctors and they insisted on a 6 week sonogram since I had been a fertility patient.
Fast forward to the day of the sonogram....
I had the day off and Matt was going to meet me at the doctor's office. I had lunch plans with a girlfriend after and if all went well, I was going to share the news with her and celebrate. We sat in the waiting room together, holding hands and smiling nervously. The doctor called us back and we were so anxious. The sonogram started and in a few quick moments, we knew it was not good news.
Nothing was there. Nothing.
I'm not sure how much time passed really and I can't remember what was said and how it was explained. What I can remember is the crushing feeling in the air, the sadness on Matt's face and the words "ectopic pregnancy".
Instead of Matt going back to school and me going out to lunch, we were sent straight to the hospital. A few hours later, I was in surgery and Matt was in the waiting room with all of the parents.
When I woke up, I was feisty and pissed off. I ripped the oxygen mask off my face and demanded to see Matt. The two staff members in the recovery room calmed me down and told me he was on his way.
After what seemed like an eternity, I finally got to see him and I demanded that we leave right away.
Instead, it was apple juice and graham crackers and finally, a humiliating ride to the car in a wheelchair like I was an old woman who could not walk.
I remember Matt getting in the driver's seat as I slumped into the door on my side and just closed my eyes. I remember waking up the next morning with some bandages on my stomach (laproscopic surgery -- thankfully) and a crushing sadness in my heart.
Someone told me once -- losing a pregnancy is not only losing a child, but the dreams of what that child might have meant. Ten years later, I can still say that is some of the best "advice" I got during our infertility journey.
Until this experience, I had never in my life known such deep sadness and I did not know how to handle it.
For quite some time, I became that girl that was slouched against the car door with her eyes closed. Just going through the motions while silently suffering this loss and coming to terms with what this dream ending meant.
Eventually, I went back to work and stopped slouching and opened my eyes to the world again....but that deep sadness still remained. I cried, I was angry, I asked why over and over.
At some point, I learned the answer to why -- that answer is "unexplained". I will never ever know why and ten years later, I have created a life out of not knowing, of accepting, of being happy with what I do have instead of what I don't have.
This bottom for me is always going to be part of my story. Believe me, I wish it never happened.
But it did and when I look back, I see how this experience changed my life -- eventually for the better.
Sharing this story for the first time publicly ten years later feels scary, good, healthy and above all, necessary.
Thanks for letting me start at the bottom....
xo
Margaret
Monday, June 2, 2014
The hustle is sold separately....
Ladies and Gentlemen,
You are stuck with me -- at least for the next 30 days!
I made a pledge to write for 20 minutes a day and this seems like the most obvious place to do it.
It's been quite a while and I am excited to be back -- as long as excited means scared as hell, that is!
It's time to get real and share some things that are on my mind and in my heart and I hope some of my blog posts will inspire you to do the same. The motivation behind this "20 minutes of writing" is the WHAT I choose when I joined the "30 Days of Hustle" that Jon Acuff (look him up, awesome) put out on Facebook.
If you know me, you know I love a challenge but I also love a swift kick in the ass to get started. 30
Days of Hustle came along and I said yes before I knew what I was saying yes to (another talent I have perfected) and here I am. Here you are.
The WHY came next....why did we chose the WHAT (writing). Now we are getting deep....WHY writing? Some of you might know that I attended the Storyline conference in January here in San Diego. On a beautiful sun dreached weekend (read: pouring down rain) at the gorgeous PLNU campus, I first encountered Jon Acuff and a bunch of other amazing people who all had one thing in common: a story to tell.
I have been stuck in a little bit (read: a lot) of fear about telling my story and putting some of it out there for other people so the 30 Days of Hustle seemed like the perfect time to get unstuck and just force myself to do it.
If the fact that I am "cheating" and writing for 40 minutes today since I "skipped" yesterday (didn't know where to start, how to start, if I could start) gives you any indication as to why joining a group to keep me accountable to this task is so important -- then, well you get me.
WHY am I writing? This simple question....ironically taken from the mug I bought myself at Storyline that is now on my desk where I am typing now. Here's the question: WHAT WOULD THE WORLD MISS IF YOU DON'T TELL YOUR STORY?
Indeed...
Most of you know me as the girl who posts an inspirational quote every day, who is always smiling, who you might call if you want advice about love, fashion, or where to eat in a new city.
The girl who has and is so grateful for a happy and easy life.
All of these things are true and I am so blessed. Don't get me wrong.
But it's the dark moments, the sadness, the rock bottom of my life (yes, I've had one, maybe two) that actually make me this happy go lucky, fly by the seat of my pants kind of person you might know and love.
As these 30 days go by, I will share my story with you -- some happy, some sad. All of it makes me who I am and also who I am not.
All of it true, all of it real.
For a while, a friend has been having "Truthful Tuesday" on Facebook. I have never posted because I thought I had nothing to say.
Well, maybe I was just too afraid to say it but now -- here's the hustle.
The dream is free, the hustle is sold separately.
I'm grateful for this 30 days of hustle because it helped me (a la Carrie Bradshaw in Sex And The City) set up my laptop, start typing and see where the big questions take me.
Will you join me as I hustle? Do you have a dream that you want to make real? Join me....or just read along as I get real.
Either way -- ask yourself the question: WHAT WILL THE WORLD MISS IF YOU DON'T TELL YOUR STORY?
I wish you the courage to tell it.
A co-worker told me the other day: use your talent for good. I hope these next 30 days is a step in the right direction -- using my talent for good.
As a friend says at the end of his blog, thanks for following.....
xo,
Margaret
You are stuck with me -- at least for the next 30 days!
I made a pledge to write for 20 minutes a day and this seems like the most obvious place to do it.
It's been quite a while and I am excited to be back -- as long as excited means scared as hell, that is!
It's time to get real and share some things that are on my mind and in my heart and I hope some of my blog posts will inspire you to do the same. The motivation behind this "20 minutes of writing" is the WHAT I choose when I joined the "30 Days of Hustle" that Jon Acuff (look him up, awesome) put out on Facebook.
If you know me, you know I love a challenge but I also love a swift kick in the ass to get started. 30
Days of Hustle came along and I said yes before I knew what I was saying yes to (another talent I have perfected) and here I am. Here you are.
The WHY came next....why did we chose the WHAT (writing). Now we are getting deep....WHY writing? Some of you might know that I attended the Storyline conference in January here in San Diego. On a beautiful sun dreached weekend (read: pouring down rain) at the gorgeous PLNU campus, I first encountered Jon Acuff and a bunch of other amazing people who all had one thing in common: a story to tell.
I have been stuck in a little bit (read: a lot) of fear about telling my story and putting some of it out there for other people so the 30 Days of Hustle seemed like the perfect time to get unstuck and just force myself to do it.
If the fact that I am "cheating" and writing for 40 minutes today since I "skipped" yesterday (didn't know where to start, how to start, if I could start) gives you any indication as to why joining a group to keep me accountable to this task is so important -- then, well you get me.
WHY am I writing? This simple question....ironically taken from the mug I bought myself at Storyline that is now on my desk where I am typing now. Here's the question: WHAT WOULD THE WORLD MISS IF YOU DON'T TELL YOUR STORY?
Indeed...
Most of you know me as the girl who posts an inspirational quote every day, who is always smiling, who you might call if you want advice about love, fashion, or where to eat in a new city.
The girl who has and is so grateful for a happy and easy life.
All of these things are true and I am so blessed. Don't get me wrong.
But it's the dark moments, the sadness, the rock bottom of my life (yes, I've had one, maybe two) that actually make me this happy go lucky, fly by the seat of my pants kind of person you might know and love.
As these 30 days go by, I will share my story with you -- some happy, some sad. All of it makes me who I am and also who I am not.
All of it true, all of it real.
For a while, a friend has been having "Truthful Tuesday" on Facebook. I have never posted because I thought I had nothing to say.
Well, maybe I was just too afraid to say it but now -- here's the hustle.
The dream is free, the hustle is sold separately.
I'm grateful for this 30 days of hustle because it helped me (a la Carrie Bradshaw in Sex And The City) set up my laptop, start typing and see where the big questions take me.
Will you join me as I hustle? Do you have a dream that you want to make real? Join me....or just read along as I get real.
Either way -- ask yourself the question: WHAT WILL THE WORLD MISS IF YOU DON'T TELL YOUR STORY?
I wish you the courage to tell it.
A co-worker told me the other day: use your talent for good. I hope these next 30 days is a step in the right direction -- using my talent for good.
As a friend says at the end of his blog, thanks for following.....
xo,
Margaret
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Gusher
My husband and I had a really great conversation last night about our communication styles.
Even after 10 years of very happy marriage, there are still ways that we can get better and love each other more.
Knowing my hubby like I do (analytical, logical, rational), I brought up the topic on Sunday night and asked him to think about ways we can improve our communication. True to form, he came home last night ready to talk.
Matt -- (in a totally mature, non threatening way)
"I know what you want me to do, communicate like you!"
Me -- "What do you mean?"
Matt -- "You're a gusher!"
Me -- "A gusher?"
Matt -- "Have you ever heard yourself talk on the phone?"
(imitating me in a girl voice) "OMG, So excited, I love that! Yeah!" (claps his hands together and does a cheerleading kick)
Me -- "Really?" (blushing and laughing) "Then what are you?"
Matt -- "I'm not a gusher, but if I was, I'd gush over you!"
Gusher. I had never thought of it that way, but he is right.
I had to look the word up this morning because I wanted to make sure.
Gush (verb) -- (FYI, it's also a noun): to make an effusive display of affection or enthusiasm <an aunt gushing over a baby>; to say or write effusively
Sounds about right.
When I put it all together -- it makes sense.
To gush is to love, to be positive, to support and encourage.
I love to celebrate, I love to talk, I love to get excited for other people.
So, yes -- I'm a gusher.
Love Luck Purpose is about gushing -- sharing and showing affection, being enthusiastic. Saying and writing what's in our hearts.
Join me -- be a gusher!
Even after 10 years of very happy marriage, there are still ways that we can get better and love each other more.
Knowing my hubby like I do (analytical, logical, rational), I brought up the topic on Sunday night and asked him to think about ways we can improve our communication. True to form, he came home last night ready to talk.
Matt -- (in a totally mature, non threatening way)
"I know what you want me to do, communicate like you!"
Me -- "What do you mean?"
Matt -- "You're a gusher!"
Me -- "A gusher?"
Matt -- "Have you ever heard yourself talk on the phone?"
(imitating me in a girl voice) "OMG, So excited, I love that! Yeah!" (claps his hands together and does a cheerleading kick)
Me -- "Really?" (blushing and laughing) "Then what are you?"
Matt -- "I'm not a gusher, but if I was, I'd gush over you!"
Gusher. I had never thought of it that way, but he is right.
I had to look the word up this morning because I wanted to make sure.
Gush (verb) -- (FYI, it's also a noun): to make an effusive display of affection or enthusiasm <an aunt gushing over a baby>; to say or write effusively
Sounds about right.
When I put it all together -- it makes sense.
To gush is to love, to be positive, to support and encourage.
I love to celebrate, I love to talk, I love to get excited for other people.
So, yes -- I'm a gusher.
Love Luck Purpose is about gushing -- sharing and showing affection, being enthusiastic. Saying and writing what's in our hearts.
Join me -- be a gusher!
Friday, February 15, 2013
To love and be loved (Valentine's Day post one day late)
I was watching Oprah's interview with Nate Berkus a few days ago and he said something that struck me. He was speaking about his boyfriend (who died tragically in the tsunami) and the framed art he created that still hangs in his home. He said "it reminds me of the WAY he loved me".
It hit me -- I was so lucky to be loved unconditionally by my parents. The WAY they loved me was always and no matter what. Their love for me was (and still is) not based on what I did or did not do but on who I was. I never had to prove to them that I deserved to be loved or do anything to earn it. It was a given, no matter what. What a gift!
I am blessed to have a husband who does the same -- he loves me completely and totally.
Grumpy, cheerful, stressed, happy -- all the same to him. And I love him right back!
The WAY people have loved me helps me to love them and others the same WAY. No one is perfect but BEING loved that way helps me love that way -- completely and unconditionally.
How have you been loved? How does that impact the way you love? How can you find ways to love yourself?
It hit me -- I was so lucky to be loved unconditionally by my parents. The WAY they loved me was always and no matter what. Their love for me was (and still is) not based on what I did or did not do but on who I was. I never had to prove to them that I deserved to be loved or do anything to earn it. It was a given, no matter what. What a gift!
I am blessed to have a husband who does the same -- he loves me completely and totally.
Grumpy, cheerful, stressed, happy -- all the same to him. And I love him right back!
The WAY people have loved me helps me to love them and others the same WAY. No one is perfect but BEING loved that way helps me love that way -- completely and unconditionally.
How have you been loved? How does that impact the way you love? How can you find ways to love yourself?
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Still 3 days behind -- learning to take care of myself....
I said that I would commit to blog for 5 more days -- 3 days ago!
At the moment, I'm laying in bed under a blanket and I did the same all day yesterday!
For someone like me, it's tough to do nothing. I realized yesterday, in the middle of crumpled Kleenex and empty glasses of juice, that doing nothing is actually doing something -- it's taking care of myself.
I spent a lot of my younger years taking care of others, staying as busy as possible, and never resting. I thought that stopping or slowing down meant failure. I had the cutest, tiniest apartment but I never really nested there.
Being sick should never be the only reason to slow down and take care of yourself, but it certainly does stop you in your tracks. It's a great reminder to take care of yourself and not rush through life.
Even though it's for a yucky reason, being at home is nice. I love this space, this place I have shared for over 9 years now with my hubby. It's comfortable, it's warm, it's home -- and it's teaching me to slow down and take care of myself.
What has helped you learn this lesson?
At the moment, I'm laying in bed under a blanket and I did the same all day yesterday!
For someone like me, it's tough to do nothing. I realized yesterday, in the middle of crumpled Kleenex and empty glasses of juice, that doing nothing is actually doing something -- it's taking care of myself.
I spent a lot of my younger years taking care of others, staying as busy as possible, and never resting. I thought that stopping or slowing down meant failure. I had the cutest, tiniest apartment but I never really nested there.
Being sick should never be the only reason to slow down and take care of yourself, but it certainly does stop you in your tracks. It's a great reminder to take care of yourself and not rush through life.
Even though it's for a yucky reason, being at home is nice. I love this space, this place I have shared for over 9 years now with my hubby. It's comfortable, it's warm, it's home -- and it's teaching me to slow down and take care of myself.
What has helped you learn this lesson?
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