Strong.. Powerful and Weak.

Growing up I was surrounded by beautiful, kind loving women that most often stayed home with their kids, baked cookies and dressed for church on Sundays. I was the one that read fashion magazines, dreamed of traveling the world and knew that God didn't care if I wore dresses to church, he knew my heart. A small town girl that dreamed of the city. A girl that couldn't wait to escape and see the world. The girl that felt at times like an imposter in someone else's life. I craved to meet people that were different then me, visit places I'd never been and do things I'd never done..In many ways, I dreamed of being exactly where I am now. Blessed to have a strong, powerful group of women to raise me, they lifted me up when I cried, made me strive to accomplish goals and taught me how to love others and spread God's word through actions. Looking back, I remember the first time I knew my mom was a powerful woman. She was going to school full time, working a full time job and raising two daughters and she still made time to play softball with her friends.. I remember thinking how incredible she was and being so proud that she was getting her degree because I knew it meant something to her. I also remember helping her with statistics to ensure she made it through that class. I remember my Grandma going through a really bad stroke and coming out when they didn't think she would to live a normal life, having a kidney transplant and hating her stomach and the way the kidney made it look but living for 11 more years with gratefulness for a 16 yr old boys gift. My life consisted of a group of aunts that were my best friends and my mom's best friend who taught me who told me my face would freeze and I would look like that when I got older so I'd stare in the mirror making faces, imagining what I would look like when I was older.. She wasn't far off. They convinced my mom to let me shave, try makeup,listened when I cried about boys and were always there for me just to talk. They helped me feel safe and loved and those women are the reason I am strong and powerful now. They are the reason I survived some of the trauma in my life that others often do not survive. However with being strong and powerful, there comes for me a sense of shame. A sense of not being enough because I didn't have kids or didn't do what society deems we should do. I have the scarlet letter of divorce hanging over my head and honestly for most of my life haven't wanted kids. At five I told my Grandma if I had kids I would adopt an 8 year old and a 13 year old and would not have my own because there were tons of kids that needed good homes. I've been told I'm selfish, noone will be there to take care of me when I die and that I only value materialistic things and should be ashamed. The irony is that 8 years ago, after coming out with surgery, I was told that even if I wanted them, that probably wasn't in my plans due to some pretty significant OBGYN issues I have. Maybe that's why the yearning that most women crave wasn't there for me. Yet again I didn't fit. I didn't fit in the view that was so ingrained within my head of who I should be, not who I am. Marriage..the Scarlet Letter D hangs over my head. I was supposed to be a wife. I was.. I was someone that loved my husband so much it tore my heart out to let him go.. it nearly killed me inside and I KNOW that now I'm terrified of loving someone like that again, so I put up walls, create barriers and only go so far.. because I'm scared and feel shame that underneath I'm not as powerful and strong as I seem. I'm a facade. A facade of strength and courage but if you are in my inner circle, you know its a wall. It's a wall that I'm unsure can ever be broken. I pray it can, I hope that I can feel free but I'm aware that its been nearly 9 years and its still there.. .sometimes I feel as though its starting to crumble and then I patch it up. We all have walls we've built to make us feel safe and secure. The truth is, if someone could break it down, he would have my heart forever.. but I'm uncertain at times that exists. Perhaps, I'm not meant to be someone's wife. Perhaps I had that moment and it has passed. Then there is the woman I am at work. I care deeply about those I work with, I uplift them, I encourage them, I help them and I support them. I love my job and the impact we have on others. I love that everyday, I get to support people that change lives. I travel, I meet new people, I live on the road in hotels, airports and traveling from state to state. Its incredible and uplifting and I'm proud of the work we do and many of the dreams I had as a little girl have came true because of this incredible opportunity. Yet if you know me, you know I struggle. Perception isn't always reality, I struggle with this horrific sense of not being enough, not doing enough, not impacting enough. This is a bottomless hole that can't be filled with longer hours, more calls and stores. It stems from doubt and a general lack of self compassion combined with an atrocious need for perfectionism. An unattainable goal of who I should be, rather than who I am. You see, perception is seldom ever reality in who someone really is, you have to look beneath the facade to embrace the authenticity of who they really are. I am strong and I am weak. I have no children, I am not married, I am 42 years old and all that I thought my life would be, it is and it isn't . That's where the shame arises, shame that something is wrong with me, the same sense of sadness that as a little girl made me feel as though I didn't fit in. Often our biggest obstacle in life are the stories we tell ourselves and mine used to be that you can't be weak and strong at the same time. I now know, that you can. I am. I am both. I am fire and I am ice. My love is deep, never ending and I forgive when it hurts because I know that's what God does for us. I am direct, I am sassy, I am fiery. I'm the girl that one must never assume isn't aware, as usually I'm just watching , learning and listening. My gifts are plentiful and I always give anything I commit to, my best. I am also weak, struggle with self doubt, wonder if am enough and worthy of the gifts I've been given. My faith is strong and at times it is weak. I yearn for things but I'm scared to go for them. I dream about things but I wonder if they are reality. I've come to realize that without the dark, you can't see the light. Without the pain, you can't feel the glory. Without the sadness, you cant' feel true joy. Thus in order to be strong, one must first be weak.. in order to survive one must first be beaten and in order to hope one must first have faith. I'm strong, I am powerful and I am weak.