I have wanted to write, but have been unable to. I just was unable to put my thoughts….my soul to paper. I would find myself daily opening my blog and just staring. Being a writer it gets that way sometimes. Since I last wrote, I am further into my pregnancy and I am exhausted. Exhausted mentally, physically, emotionally, and I am still trying desperately to find that balance and relieve some of this pressure that I myself, society, and family has put onto me.
Ever since I was younger, I always felt this pressure…this huge weight on my shoulders to be perfect. I would study just a little more in hopes that it would get me that 100. Or, I’d stay after and practice my toe touch because mines did not mirror my teammates. And when I lacked, I made up for it with heart. I have always ruled my life with my feelings, with being honest with myself and others, and ultimately by working with all my heart and soul so that things would be “perfect.” It seems that into adulthood, I found out the hard way that no one is perfect, and honestly….who wants to be? There is beauty in mistakes and learning. I learned to work smart and not hard. I learned to let others help me because I CANNOT DO THIS ALONE. Furthermore, I learned that with each sunrise and each sunset that I am a work in progress.
Now that I am a wife and mother, it seems to me that I; along with society have created this standard at times that I am not allowed to make mistakes. That it is selfish of me to take a day for myself to recuperate mentally and spiritually. Oh, the mom guilt. I feel the pressure to always BE ON and to be a tad demure so that I don’t spazz out like I used to. Plus, I am medicated and with child, I cannot afford to just spazz. After all, I have several people depending on me. Being a good mom is a trigger for me because I do not want to repeat what my childhood lacked and looked like. So, I worry. I pray yet hold onto the fear of “Am I doing this right.” I did not grow up in a home where I could model the role of a wife. Honestly, I did not think that anyone would ever truly marry me. Sure several guys asked me, only one ever produced a ring, but those situations were all rooted with selfishness. They could not stand that fact that someone else would capitalize on their “property” while they “got ready” which never truly happened. So with that, I never felt the need to prepare myself for wifedom. And to be truthful, I didn’t know how; But let me tell you, there is a learning curve especially when you are free styling like me.
I don’t usually blog about this topic because it’s a sensitive area for me, but I feel compelled to do so. Maybe there is someone out there losing sleep and driving themselves crazy trying to figure out the balance, the new roles, what’s most important in the long list of things to do. Most importantly, it could possibly help someone finally realize that pressure eventually alleviates. Some may know and most may not, but I am a 30 year old caregiver; thus my husband is as well. My father is unable to live alone and unsupervised due to a history of seizures and strokes. I have been along the journey, and watched him transform from my super hero, to the man that depends on little ole me. I must admit that it has been hard to watch and to be a part of. Especially with the lack of support from my siblings. Can you imagine being responsible not only for your children and spouse, but for your parent too? It’s a thin line to make it all work, but I must admit; the situation is a culprit for added pressure. And its not because caring for him is such a hard job, but how does one prepare to do so at such a young age? Newlywed, young mother, stable yet fresh into my career. There is no manual. And, don’t let me get started on how to effectively parent a stubbornly beautiful two year old with an agenda and mind of her own. There are times when it can all be too much. Times where I search for coping skills and turn up empty.
The combination of all these different transitions happening at once…..with a direction that feels like I am walking in the dark feeling with my hands…yea…..the pressure. At the end of the day, it’s not all bad. I eventually snap out of my feelings, put my superwoman cape on and get to work. Having my father with me has been a blessing because I am able to see the transformation and appreciate it for what it is….even though it hurts. Most importantly, my two daughters will have the relationship with their grandfather that I yearned for, but never received. It is all cyclic when you think about it. The swelling in your heart seems to cause the anxiety to crush your chest, but eventually it subsides because our bodies are able to battle with stress, anxiety, and the pressure. We just have to be patient and forgiving of ourselves and the ones who love us. None of us are perfect….truth be told…..I don’t wanna be.
So, does anyone else feel the pressure?!?