I may look like just another 63 year old chubbette to some of you as body parts drop and gray invades my hair. I assure you inside I am a jock, a ballet dancer, a comedian, a mistress of the universe, your dream friend and your worst nightmare. I am woman hear me roar, and whine and whimper.
This is the season for compassion. How can someone with ADD find compassion for themselves in a season filled with societal traditions that are difficult in the best of times and monumental during the holidays? One may really want to send holiday cards and yet never accomplish the task. Friends who visit may be handed letters left unfinished from the 1990's, or some bizarre craft project instead of the well-respected holiday card or invitation for coffee. Shame and guilt can pursue you like a storm cloud in a cartoon.
Being me. What in the world does that mean? I thought I was being me by being what other people wanted and expected me to be. I looked like I had it all: A good marriage, happy and healthy children, and I lived in a nice house with 2 nice cars. Actually, that worked for a long while. I looked at the content of my life and I thought, “I’ve done what I was suppose to do! Good job!” The problem was, I thought being the “good girl” and doing “what I was suppose to do” would mean I would be “HAPPY” too. But what I felt inside was restless, resentful, and angry.
“The easiest thing to be in the world is you. The most difficult thing to be is what other people want you to be.”
– Leo Buscaglia, a.k.a. “Dr. Love”