Having dubbed myself the Makeover Mom I decided to take a look at some areas in my life that need a makeover. I'm not talking about my bangs needing chemically straightened or my ever expanding buttocks getting on a treadmill. I'm referring to areas of a less "cosmetic nature".
I have, what some might call, a few...character defects.
I'm always late. I procrastinate causing myself and others unnecessary stress. I'm loud and occasionally abrasive. I make promises I don't keep. I'm irresponsible in a lot of ways - I have been known to apply make up while driving and frequently fed my kids fast food instead of cooking. But I'm also cute and funny and smart and helpful and I care deeply about my family. (Previous sentence thrown in so that those of you who now feel sorry for me realize that I'm also arrogant.)
The problem is that realizing I have these "flaws" and actually doing something about them are two different things. For me, change happens slowly. First I have an "aha" moment. Then I start to notice the same thing more and more. Then I decide to do something about it. Then I make a change.
Who am I kidding? If I'm being honest it goes more like this. "Wow - that sucks about me" or "Wow - that sucks about that person". Then I proceed to ignore it and lose myself in whatever current addiction I'm involved in whether it's Bejeweled or Twitter or reruns of CSI.
So I continue with my harmless distractions until either the pain gets so great that I remove the person from my life, pay the bill, or make a change in myself.
When I was younger I was a more energetic about making changes but it's getting harder as I get older. Although the stakes are getting higher. I recently thought about what I would regret on my deathbed and the list is long.
So here's a change I'm getting ready to make that will reduce the list of deathbed regrets and will also require little energy. I'm ready to give up fear. Not the healthy fear of the obvious dangers in life that keep us safe. But the insidious malware type fear that has been eating away at me for most of my adult life and has driven me to become a stressed out, people-pleasing, passive-aggressive crazy person. (Occasionally)
I'm afraid about what people think of me and say about me. I'm afraid people are mad at me or won't like me or think I'm a bad mother. Afraid that people will figure out that I'm really stupid or lazy or clueless. Afraid I'm going to get fired (which finally happened and I'm still standing). Afraid my kids will like their Dad better than me or that my neighbors really can hear me yelling. It goes on and on and on.
As a result of all of this, I've run myself ragged and pushed myself fairly well to the brink.
After watching me have a mini-breakdown yesterday over what he considered to be nothing, my son said to me "Mom are you in any kind of therapy?" It made me realize maybe it's time. As they say, out of the mouths of babes. When I realized later why I had cried it was because I felt like a big stupid loser. I didn't have his health insurance card with me at the doctor, I didn't pay my mom back some money I owed her on time, and a client just put off doing a project I was counting on. But after a good night's sleep and some time to think today I realized I'm not a big stupid loser. I'm just afraid that people will think I'm one or that I will actually become one.
And now for a little background. I grew up in an extremely violent and abusive home and recently in my professional life I was able to do some work on behalf of a move called "Telling Amy's Story" which chronicled the life of a woman who had been living with domestic violence. Just when she was about to leave her husband he shot and killed her at point blank range. If you have a chance to look into it, please do as well as Verion's efforts to end support domestic violence. My boss at the time sent me to Washington DC for the premiere of the film as he knew that domestic violence was an issue I care deeply about.
What happened to at that event surprised me. As much as I care deeply about putting an end to domestic violence, I began to realize that the way I was living my life is partly a result of what happened in my childhood (Um...duh). I found some programs for adult survivors of child abuse and started exploring recovery but I guess I was too busy or got distracted or the just wasn't ready to make the change. But now the same boss referenced above has given me the luxury of lots of time on my hands and I am ready to start changing the things in my life that are causing me the greatest discomfort (and I don't mean my ugly mom jeans that are too tight) .
I'll keep you posted on how it goes. Right after this next game of Bejeweled!