{"id":186,"date":"2020-12-02T10:48:43","date_gmt":"2020-12-02T15:48:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/?p=186"},"modified":"2020-12-02T10:48:43","modified_gmt":"2020-12-02T15:48:43","slug":"function","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/?p=186","title":{"rendered":"Function"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

This hit SO. HARD.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’ve been in the aftermath of a relationship. Hell, let’s tell it like it is: I left a 10 year marriage. When such a relationship ends, there are scars – on both sides, from both people, both ways, some forgotten, some deep, some shallow… You have NO idea until there’s extended distance, what actually needs to heal. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Believe me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What I never expected is the “other healing” that has started to happen as well. This goes beyond the past 10 years. This goes WAY back. I was beginning to get some inklings that it was time for such healing – the last time I felt such inklings was Dec ’18\/Jan ’19, a couple months before my estranged mother contacted me – and then this graphic came to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

holy. shit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It like, legit, stopped me in my tracks. It has haunted me since, and I knew I had to not only write about it, but also not hide from it. I had to accept it, to let it dig down as deep as it freaking wants to, even if it blows me wide open and changes EVERYthing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ok, so…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My childhood was rough. My parents fought a lot. I don’t remember much. My brain blocked it out. That’s all I’m going to say about that. I’m the oldest, so I would usher my brother and sister away, try to shield them. I took care of them. I remember changing my sister’s diapers when I was 8 years old. By the time I was in high school, I was a go getter. Straight As. I wanted to get out of dodge – like, FAR out\/ away. People would ask me what I wanted to be when I was older, and I would say I just wanted to be smart enough to go to a good college so that I could make a lot of money… truth is, I just wanted to make enough to move -and stay – away. I went to bed super early, got up super early, did my homework at 4am, then went to the gym and worked out before school. I was the classmate you hated, cuz it looked like I didn’t even try and I blew every curve there was. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s “how I was”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As an adult, that transformed into never sitting still. I was either still in school getting straight As, or working a job and being a perfect homemaker. I got married, and divorced. Moved back home (!!), got pregnant. Still worked, was a good mom, still go go go… <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s “how I was”. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marriage #2: have another kid, buy a house. Finally finished a bachelor’s degree. Family of 5. I managed everything. Work full time, keep the house going, manage everyone’s calendars… work out, eat right, volunteer, cook, be the taxi… Super Mom, right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s How I Was. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even writing about it, I feel frantic. Get it done. Be perfect. I can feel the pressure. Do it all. Go go go. I like things tidy (personally), so I kept it all tidy. At least, I tried my best to keep it that way, in a house of 5. Tried to teach them good habits. Hockey Mom, Soccer Mom, PTO Mom, Band Mom… I ran, I did yoga, had a direct sales side business, earned promotions, vacations, built a team. Everyone really did call me Super Mom, over and over and over. It made me cringe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hated it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was tired, I was worn out. Like, DEEP down worn out. I wanted less, yet I didn’t know how to get there.
I realized I was unhappy to the point of dying inside. So… I left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I knew there were certain things from the relationship that I wanted to shed. Things that weren’t “me”. I found a peace I hadn’t felt in a long time, things were going well…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then I fell and hit my head. Second concussion in 3 years. It forced me to slow wayyyyyy down. More than I had in… well, 3 years. Although this time I didn’t have a family of 5 to keep up with, so I actually slowed down even more than last time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I started to realize… *deep breath<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I started to realize that I actually LIKED moving slower. That I actually LIKED doing less. Like… REALLY liked it. That I had ZERO ambition to going back to “go go go”. I didn’t even want to work my side business -“eh” was about how I felt about that. I truly liked having an empty calendar. I enjoyed saying “no thanks” to requests for my time, or things to do. I even used the “I can’t, my head…” a bit more than I needed to. Everyone wanted me to rest, so I took advantage. I needed to learn how to stop myself from returning back to How I Was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THEN I saw this graphic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I realized, that’s not WHO I Was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s how I over-functioned.
That I had likely been over-functioning most of my damn life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which meant… *deep breath<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which meant I was free to rediscover who I truly was, and how I truly wanted to be.

~~~~

It’s now 3.5 weeks later. I started this post in the beginning of November, on a Friday night while sitting home alone and enjoying the quiet and letting my fingers fly, expressing my feelings. Since then I’ve been enjoying LIFE, settling even deeper into “the new me” … which I’m realizing is just ME, How I Am, and always have been, at my core. \u2764<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’ve been shedding routines, thought processes, and habits. I’ve been examining EVERY little thing, every little decision, every little “this is how we do things” … cuz is it really how *I* like to do things?? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. The result is that I feel more authentically myself than just about EVER in my life, and it feels
SO.
DAMN.
GOOD.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Part of me wants to say “watch out world, here I come…” and yet, most of me thinks, “eh, they don’t need to know about it anyways, cuz it’s my journey and I don’t need anyone to know or care, it’s not about them, it’s about me.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And THAT feels just as damn good. \ud83d\ude01\ud83d\ude18<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This hit SO. HARD. I’ve been in the aftermath of a relationship. Hell, let’s tell it like it is: I left a 10 year marriage. When such a relationship ends, there are scars – on both sides, from both people, both ways, some forgotten, some deep, some shallow… You have NO idea until there’s extended … <\/p>\n

Continue reading “Function”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/186"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=186"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/186\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":192,"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/186\/revisions\/192"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=186"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=186"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/mammaber.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=186"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}