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Baby Steps

I know blogs are meant to be read, but it kinda creeps me out that while I haven’t posted this on any of my other social networking sites, I already have 22 views. Thanks for reading? I wish I knew who you all were.  Ha.

The last 48 hours have been immensely rough. I was working like crazy to get done the final parts of a 75-minute presentation scheduled for 8am today. I had 3 other assignments due today as well. And then my mom was taken to the ER. Growing up without a dad has been responsible for a lot of things in my life – and it certainly is responsible for the strong bond I have with my mom and the intense feeling of nausea I got when I read that horrid text message.

In fact, I saw only the first few words of the text message and refused to open the rest of the message for another couple of minutes. My heart was pounding too hard and I was just going to wait for the lightheadedness to pass before I read the rest of the message. Thankfully, after I read it, I immediately ran into a friend, whom I proceeded to tackle from behind in the tightest hug. Unaware of my coming or the reason for my long, almost painful hug, she just let me hug her. Thank God for that. Because I didn’t get any physical touch from anyone else from anyone else for a while.

My mom’s fine now, although prayers are always appreciated. But I cannot describe to you how helpless, fragile, and dazed I felt. I was thousands of miles away. I couldn’t do anything except pray. I literally walked around for the last two days in a daze, alternating between nausea, the shakes and mild panic attacks. I don’t want to relive these last 48 hours ever again.

But here’s what was really strange: I knew I needed people, and I sought people out. I knew I felt alone, and I found myself saying “I need a hug.” I didn’t once hear myself say, “It’s fine” or “I’ll be fine” or my favorite, “Shit happens”. I admitted my own frailty and sought to find strength outside of myself.

Could it be true? Am I really learning to be vulnerable? To be feminine? Granted, I wasn’t 100% vulnerable; I still hid behind certain walls around certain people. But I will not discount the baby steps, the small victories. A small part of me felt like a real woman this week.


About thehonestbrave

tending the space between where i am and where i want to be.

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