I couldn’t see through my tear-stung eyes. My heart has never pounded so hard and I’ve never felt the blood actually pulsing through my veins – not even through 6 childbirths! I had to remind myself to breathe. I vacillated between intensely angry and intensely sad, feeling as if I opened my mouth some large “thing” (?) would come out of it. Whatever “it” was, currently sat somewhere lodged between my chest and my diaphragm. After exiting the highway, the feelings were increasingly intensified to the point I finally whispered, “Take your hands off the wheel. You don’t want to do that”, as the lure to just turn into the tree at 60 mph began to sound alarmingly appealing. In an instant the pain would be gone, right?
Have you ever been to this point?
Have you ever felt so stuffed down and yet so wildly out of control that you either will burst or make a decision you’ll forever regret?
I think we all have. If not, it most likely will happen at some point in your human experience.
When I finally parked my car, in a divinely rare moment, I was alone at my house for a few hours. Instead of stuffing, shaming myself, or eating all the chocolate I could find in my house, I took one step I’d not really taken before:
I just broke.
For what seemed like hours, I let all the pain and grief of all the years of unmet expectations of others and the weight of the expectations placed on me merge into deep and indiscernible cries.
Tears and grief are gifts from God.
Within them, lies the beginning work of healing. You must grieve and acknowledge the loss before you can begin to close that door to whatever it is you’ve lost and to start walking a new way.
This was my turning point. This was when I began to say, “No more,” and began to choose to move towards health.
You may crawl. You may stumble. You may get to your knees and then tumble down like a child. In fact, you probably will. The process toward true health is not a linear one and it often looks less than beautiful. But what’s on the other side is greater gain than you can imagine.
I know because I’ve walked the journey.
I know because I’ve listened to other women’s stories that resound with the same message.
And it can be your story, too. You have the promise of a beautiful tomorrow if you will choose to do the work today.