Give a little Grace

I have been reading lately about healing and focusing on deep hurts that cause angry, defensive reactions. Because, I’m really ashamed to admit, I have a bad temper and sometimes have really disproportionate angry reactions to silly things.

For example, I burned my finger on a glue gun while making a banner. I curbed my initial reaction to scream obscenities. However, inside me this huge angry reaction was brewing that had to go somewhere. I picked up the end of the kitchen table and let it slam down. When the table slammed down, the anger released, but the plate that was holding the glue gun broke, and my tiny girlfriend started to cry.

Cue the guilt and shame tape that goes like this, “You’re an asshole. You can’t control your temper. You don’t deserve to have these sweet little kids; you’re a lunatic. Way to go. You’re just like your dad.”

And in about 25 seconds, I had gone from pain to rage to feeling about an inch tall.

I apologized to Lily and explained to her that I had reacted inappropriately to pain with anger, and I was sorry for scaring (and probably scarring) her. We talked about some times that our reactions didn’t exactly match our feelings or the particular situation and then finished making our craft without further incident.

For the rest of the night, shame gripped me pretty tightly. I had to delve into my reaction and the motivation behind it. Once I did that and realized that my reaction was something that had been ingrained in me from childhood–when you get upset about something let your rage out on an inanimate object–I was able to deal with it and remind myself that having a bad reaction didn’t make me a bad person.

Guilt and shame always go together for me–the dynamic duo of damnation–so I was enlightened to read Brene Brown’s definition in The Gifts of Imperfection. She explains that guilt says “You did something bad,” and shame says, “You are bad.” I still think they’re a terrifying team, but now I see them more clearly.

Brown goes on to say that we can steal the power away from this team if we talk about the stuff that makes us feel this way and bring it to light. Just make sure that you share with someone you really trust.

She gives a list of people you don’t want to choose, such as:

• Anyone who makes you feel worse about yourself. They will look at you with shock and judgment and say things like, “Oh…my.”
• One-uppers. You know them. They respond to everything with, “Oh that’s nothing, let me tell you about the time…”
• Those with low self-esteem who will use this as an opportunity to feel superior–think, drowning victims who push others down to get themselves to the surface. “Oh, I never have inappropriate reactions in front of my kids, but that’s just me.”
• Condescending jerks. Pretty much the same as above with a heightened air of superiority.

***Please note that sometimes jerks look and sound and act like friends until you share something like this with them***

So, my week has been a lot of, “Yikes, where did that come from? Why does it bother me when people do a.b.c.d?” and more. This isn’t a huge change. I’m always analyzing and overthinking and trying to do better, but sometimes it’s not in the actual moment. I’m steadily trying to live the Four Agreements, but it’s a lot of trial and error.

I spent many years feeling broken and damaged because of things that happened to me, but I am realizing in this decade* that labeling myself is not only unnecessary but it is also unkind. Yes, bad things happened to me, but really great things have happened too. By reconciling that I can simultaneously grieve loss and embrace blessings, by realizing that my past doesn’t define me, and by reminding myself that every moment is an opportunity to embrace and extend grace, I’ve cleared my path from lots of tangled roots that tripped me up.

A few weeks ago the super-wise 20-year-old guru I’m blessed to call my daughter said that she felt fortunate that her dad and I hadn’t really f#$%ed her up. We keep it really real. She said she always felt loved and free to express herself. This was such an impactful statement, as I have questioned everything I did as a mother for 20 years. In fact, the only thing I knew for sure was that I loved these little people God let me hold for awhile more than I had ever known was possible.

I’m pretty convinced some days that I’m messing Peyton and Lily up in some significant way. The nasty shrew in my head tells me all the time that I am worthless and have no business raising these amazing kids. I question myself all the time. And then I shhhhhhh them, breathe and keep going. I’m not sharing this because I need reassurance, but because someone else might feel the same. Do you? Let me encourage you: If you worry this much about what kind of person or wife or parent you are, I’m pretty confident that you are already amazing.

Give yourself some grace. And give the people who make different choices grace too. Namaste.

*The jury is still out on 40 because the emotional and spiritual rewards seem to come at the expense of some crazy things like thinning hair and brain fog and achy joints.

Feel, don’t feed, your feelings (Emotional Triggers)

The past few days I have felt sad. As usual, I look for external reasons. What day is it–is it an anniversary of someone’s death? Where’s my focus–have I been thinking about sad things? Do I have PMS? This particular time, I can’t pinpoint a reason.

I don’t like the cold and snow, but doesn’t make me sad. The anniversary of my dad’s death is coming up, but not for a week, and I don’t usually feel melancholy so far in advance. I miss my girl and my best friend, but those feelings don’t usually sideline me. I don’t think I have PMS, since that makes me feel less sad and more as if an evil spirit has taken up residence in my body. It is just a non-specific malaise.

However, since I don’t have a lot of coping skills, sadness (specified or not) leads to seeking comfort in food, which leads to an elevated number on the scale which leads to further sadness and feelings of defeat. It’s a vicious cycle–or circle–I never know which one is correct, though both accurately describe this situation.

Since January, I have intently focused on winning the battle against food. Overcoming my dependence on it. Eating to live instead of living to eat. I say: I’m doing this for health and not to lose weight. And I kind of mean it. But gosh darn it, I wish that number on the scale would go down.

I have read books, listened to TED talks and am currently re-reading and participating in an online Bible study for Lysa TerKeurst’s book Made to Crave. But, the same stupid number shows up on the scale every morning. Some days, it goes down a number or two, but it always goes back. One step forward one step back. One step back one step forward–this monotonous mambo is wearing me out.

I have prayed, given this to God, and laid this issue at the cross, more times than I can count. But in times of sadness, defeat, depression, I will not reach for the phone to call a human friend, I will instead reach for my faithful friend the sandwich. I will take comfort in the sweet goodness of a cookie rather than the reassuring words of my husband. While I try very hard to reach out and encourage others, I find it very difficult to reach outside my comfort zone when cookies are usually so much closer.When I feel empty and defeated, I will make a huge meal instead of calling a friend or going for a walk or praying.

Last week at church, there was a display of the most amazing cakes you have ever seen. I wanted a piece so bad. I started to take a piece, and my husband said, “Don’t do it, baby.” Initially, I was shocked–and a little angry–and turned with my mouth hanging open to see if he had lost his mind. “It will taste good now, but you’ll be mad at yourself.” Darn that man I love. He was right, and I didn’t eat a whole piece. I did, however, have a bite and it was delicious and wonderful and everything I had hoped it would be. AND that one little bite was enough.

I think that’s the hardest part of beating this addiction. The “one is too many; one more isn’t enough” mentality. Unlike cigarettes or alcohol, you can’t just quit food cold turkey. We have to eat. But like other substances, I have used innately harmless sweets in an unhealthy way. I have tried to fill voids that no amount of peanut butter could fill. I have had long conversations with trail mix instead of God or even a friend.

In counseling school, the therapist/professor asked, “What would happen if you let yourself feel the sadness?” I would cry and feel sad, but I’ve been there before, and I know that I would stop crying eventually.

Overcoming emotional eating is a process like anything else. There are ups and downs. Victories and defeats. And right now, I feel pretty defeated. I feel a lot like I might never overcome this. I feel alone and empty, and maybe a cookie would make me feel better in this moment, but that is not true. So today, I’m going to focus on feeling my feelings instead of feeding them.