I was scrambling this week. There was just too much kids and too little me.
Mom, I pleaded on the phone, I’m not going to make it to pick up Alex from dance. Can you grab her? I’m stuck in Pasadena picking up Brooke.
She saved the day, grabbing my youngest and bringing her home. We had arrived home at about the same time. I gave my youngest a quick squeeze and then turned to give my mama a “you totally saved me today” gi-normous hug.
“Oh honey, I love your hair, ” my mom gushed.
Let’s just be real here, dear sisters, we all still love to hear this. Cute hair. Fab heels. We do. It just feeds the soul.
“It makes you look so young!” she added.
I turned to look in the mirror real quick; what in the world did I do to my hair to get this response? My hair was lightly twisted back on the sides with loose curls hanging over my shoulders. I guess this is working for me today, I thought as I tilted my head a little to the side.
And then I heard it. The statement that completely sucked out all my new-found joy and affirmation;
“You look like you’re twelve,” she quipped.
My children stopped in their tracks. I stopped, my brow all scrunched up.
Yeeeeaaah, not really the look I’m going for.
My kids erupted in laughter, “Twelve!!!” yelled my 13- year- old, holding her stomach and pointing . I had to remind myself I was not twelve and it would be highly inappropriate to tackle my own daughter or stick my tongue out, though I thought about it… oh, I thought about it.
Yeah, it was gone. A 41-one-year old with 12-year-old hair. That’s great.
“Ahhh,” that’s not what I meant,” my poor sweet mom added in an attempt to fix .
Too late Mama… can’t unhear that one.
We all had a good laugh about this.
I laid in bed thinking about this little memory last night. There was something about it. There was something more to it… and then it opened up.
There are parts of my life that do look young- maybe not 12- but young and perhaps… just perhaps I need to learn to be okay having 12 year-old hair on my 41-year-old body right now.
One of my deepest struggles, dear sisters, is learning to be okay with what my life looks like and not some check list that I have in my head of what life should look like at my age.
Owning my own house. No check.
Intact family. No check
20 years experience in counseling others. No check.
It’s like we have a list in our head of what life at our given age should look like and we are not measuring up. Have you ever felt that? heard that from within?
I have seen this with clients. I have seen this in myself.
Little freedom to be exactly where I was.
It was like God was using what my mom (God Bless her.. she is so awesome!) said to trigger in me thoughts around being young. It was like I heard Him say:
Child, you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Let that be okay.
You’re right, it doesn’t look like everyone else. It doesn’t.
Don’t expect a new dating relationship to look the same as a 20 year marriage.
Don’t expect a new career to look the same as one fully developed and nurtured.
For better or worse, give yourself space to be where you are.
Give yourself grace, dear one. Give yourself grace. Grace.
Let yourself be where you are.
Don’t chastise yourself with harsh words, demanding that you be somewhere you are not.
Be kind to yourself, dear one.
Let yourself- allow yourself- to be EXACTLY where you are.
Let Me meet you there. For in doing so, you will experience the fullness of this moment.
Fullness. Richness. That is what I have for you today. Be present with Me. Be with Me and know that in this moment I am with you.
Breathe that in, dear sisters. Deep breath. Breathe it in.
Grace…. and grace again. Give yourself the gift of grace to be exactly where you are.