July 1, 2019
Live. Laugh. Love
I really struggled with what I should write about for my first post. There is a bit of pressure knowing that people may find my writing boring, and not return for future posts. I considered starting with something funny because I know that always captivates my attention, but there is a time, and a place for humor. I thought about it, and realized that maybe sometimes I hide behind humor, so I don’t have to be vulnerable. Vulnerability is probably the scariest thing, at least for me. I know I personally get what Brene Brown calls “the vulnerability hangover.” You share something important, and then look back and say why did I share that (insert hand on face emoji.) I believe it happens because we are scared whoever is on the receiving end will somehow judge us, reject us or make us feel less loved. We all want to be loved, and loved for exactly who we are.
I want to somehow reach as many people as possible; helping other people is what I am here to do. When I initially sat down to write I was going to explain why I started this blog in the first place, but the more I thought about the back story, I realized it didn’t matter. The main purpose for this blog is to share my journey and experiences with you because I want you all to get to the place that took me 33 years to reach. If you are younger than me, I am 37 for reference, I hope you get there sooner. If you are older, my wish is for you to get there as soon as possible. I don’t expect to have many male followers on this site, but they are welcome, as well. To the ladies reading this, you are my people. I love all people, but my heart for women beats really strong because being a woman is extremely tough at times.
I don’t really know if everyone struggles with self-love. My guess would be that everyone struggles with it to some degree, I know I did. It took me years to really put it all together. While thinking about this post I looked back over my life, and tried to figure out when the pangs of self-hatred began and why. Now don’t get me wrong it wasn’t a constant thing in my life, but it was there in some way for years. According to my dad, even at six years old I talked to everyone. I was a happy kid, and I remember being a happy kid. They say your personality is developed by six years old, and to be quite honest I feel like I have come full circle because I am in the best mental, emotional, and spiritual place I have ever been, and I feel as though I have returned to that girl God created me to be. You may ask, well what about physical? Honestly, yes I am in that place too, but for me the body matters most because it houses the heart and soul. I don’t take full credit for being in the best place of my life either. Without God, (and all of you) I cannot say I’d be here. If you have met me later in life (over the past 4 years) you are getting the best version of me, so far, as there is always room for improvement.
The mind is a funny place. I know my own, for the most part, chooses what it wants to remember. When a bad memory pops up, I typically shut it down, but now realizing that we all have battle wounds, I can acknowledge it happened, and I see it as an opportunity to use it for good. I have compartmentalized my entire life. I think I probably will forever, but at least now I am aware of it. We all have defense mechanisms because we have all been through something. I encourage you to figure out what yours are.
I never felt the need to share my pain or struggles with anyone. Even as a kid I always felt like I could handle it on my own, and I always felt like if I shared it with my parents they would be in more pain than me. I was always that girl who felt she could take the weight of the world on her shoulders, and in some ways I was... I truly believe that is what made me the stronger woman I am today.
I grew up in a great family, but truth be told, I was always different. Ask my parents lol. My dad has always called me an “enigma.” I am the middle child, and boy was I ever the middle child in my youth. Even better I was born in the middle of two elite athletes. That made the girl who only cared about socializing the black sheep. Looking back that is how I saw myself. The way I felt about myself really had nothing to do with how my parents treated me. My parents loved each other, and us all very well. I did play sports, and was actually rather good for not practicing haha. The only thing I practiced was cheerleading, which was my one real interest. Even before I could join the team in fifth grade I stood on the sidelines of my brother’s football games and cheered, and I literally dressed up as a cheerleader for Halloween every year. In fifth or sixth grade I was “Little Miss Cheerleader,” and because my mom had started working every other weekend as a nurse my dad was the lucky one who got the honor of attending that event. If you know Joe G. then that right there is major love haha. That man is 150% man, which is probably why we didn’t really get tight until I was thirty. A manly man, with a girly girl daughter, now that’s a tough one haha.
Then why the lack of self-love? Unfortunately, no matter what kind of family you grow up in there is always the outside world, and one’s own “crazy” brain. Who really knows how the things we are exposed to penetrate the mind. I will say I remember looking in the mirror at eleven years old and deciding my thighs were fat. That is so sad. Eleven is a child. Then as women we are punched in the gut with hormones, and everything that comes with it. I was going to say punched in the balls, but that would make even less sense in this case haha. I know for me it was all just a tough transition. Whenever I had a swing in emotion I didn’t really know why. I do know it was like an exorcism. My poor family.
I was lucky enough to get the transition into puberty, and to be on the receiving end of being bullied at the same time. Oh isn’t life grand. You would think I would have held onto some weird hatred towards women after sitting alone for months on end wondering why everyone hated me, but it only made me even more grateful for my girl squad in college and now. Girls can be ruthless. They made up a nickname for me, so I wouldn’t know they were referencing me. Such bright individuals because I clearly didn’t catch on lol. I told no one. I went home every day and prayed. That was how I survived. When these lovely young ladies decided to be friends with me again I was bold enough to ask them why they hated me in the first place. Even in this moment I can hear the clear response “We needed to hate someone.” The following year there was a new set of girls that decided to treat me just as poorly. They would prank call my house, and I did everything to just get my dad to hang up. Why did they hate me? God only knows, and it doesn’t even matter. What does matter is that day I vowed to myself if I ever had daughters they will not be, nor associate with “the mean girls.”
There will be a lot of times in life when you think if only I knew then what I know now. If you don’t know this already, I am here to tell you that when other people treat us poorly, we often take it in as though something is wrong with us, not them. The truth is that when people treat us poorly it’s usually about them, and has very little to do with us. As kids, we don’t know these things, and as we feel unloved or even unworthy of being in our bullies presence, we start to internalize it all. This becomes our truth and our reality. We start speaking down on ourselves, and the damage gets worse and worse.
Some may ask how I feel about these women now? Twenty-five years have come and gone since then, and the beauty of this journey called life is time. There have been moments where I could have said negative things about these girls, but looking back I know in my heart that they must have lacked love at home or for other sad reasons to act the way they did so long ago.
Each one of us has experienced trauma in some way, and it is simply our choice how we choose to react to it. I encourage each of you to use your hurts and experiences to make life better for those around you. Don’t let your hurts make you bitter. Don’t let your pain seep into the world around you. Use it each day to help create a better, stronger version of yourself. Use it to find more empathy, more compassion, and more love for people. Every person you meet could use a smile or a laugh. I smile at everyone, and will say something strange just to make someone laugh. Yes, I am that random person. I get a lot of strange looks with the random smile plastered on my face, but to make up for it... the random comments usually do get a laugh.
As I sit here typing, and have decided that this would be a good place to end my first post, I think I should always close with a challenge for us, like the one above. I would love for you to share the outcomes with me under the contact section. Even if this is already something you practice, please share your experiences.
I am also open to feedback about what you do and do not like about the Blog.
Mother Theresa said, “Do small things with great love.”
To Be Continued……
All My Love,
Reenie