Am I my most authentic self?

Sounds like a question from a self help book, I'm sure. But it is the question of the day after a very enlightening counseling session.

I enjoy my therapist. I don't need to pay someone to tell me how to think, instead I appreciate having a self check system. Someone that will say what most your friends are too scared or timid to say. The person who's willing to call me out on my BS. And she does just that.

I explained how good I was doing last week and then crumpled into a ball of tears and all my defenses were down. G has known me for about 3 years. She worked with me for a year and a half during the PTSD of my surrogacy and while STBX was gone away at army training. She said that while I was an amazing and strong women back then, she'd never really seen me like this. And I laughed and told her it was because I didn't like 'this' person on the couch. She asked me why? What I thought about being authentic and hurt and sad was bad?

Hmmm, good question G. I told her it's because it was a waste of my time. To which she said she didn't buy and I wasn't being honest with myself. She's a quick one, that therapist is. And so I sat in it for a moment and then the tears started again. And the frustration of never feeling safe in my own family for 31 years or marriage hit me upside the head. Being authentic means being vulnerable. Vulnerability is unsafe territory for me. Abort, abort . . . comes to mind with the soundtrack of a sinking ship or an airplane spinning widely out of control.

And so I sat there, bawling like a baby, just feeling lost. I had come in without my make up and my hair barely done. In my old cargo shorts with tie dye stains and rips on them and a black wife beater tank. Today was one of those 'survival' days where make up and pretending you felt good was not an option. For what felt like the millionth night in a row I'd been up every hour with a fussing, unhappy baby. Who decided to start our day once again at 5 am. I hadn't been able to fall asleep till 11 pm and then being up every hour, I felt pure and simply: exhausted. And so, my defenses were utterly and completely down and I felt like the fish on the bottom of the barrel just waiting for the cook to grab me and gut me. And then she said something that took me completely off guard. G told me that she'd never seen me so beautiful, likable and lovable. I told her she must be smoking something, to which she laughed and added how much she loved my sense of humor these days.

But she was right. There was something that felt beautiful and amazing about connecting with another human being at the midst of my sorrow, confusion and pain. It felt amazing to not be judged and to be able to talk through the emotions that were tumbling (or spinning as i say) inside my head. And then she asked me to breath. She said she'd noticed over the last few months that I just don't breath much anymore. And she's right. I'm constantly holding my breath physically and metaphorically speaking. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. I never feel safe and am always preparing for the next blow out. And so it leads me to ask myself, who is my authentic self?

Is it the woman who has this wall so far up my butt crack that my heart and soul are safer than Fort Knox? Or is it the woman that rocks her babies to sleep and gives every last moment's peace to their love and comfort? Is it the person who turns away her spouse with biting words and inflicting pain on him to protect herself or is it the one who once in a blue moon writes a heartfelt letter and expresses her needs, desires, wants, fear, pain and heartache? I know it's the latter. But being that person is really, really hard for me.

And with becoming my authentic self, I'm realizing I have a heck of a lot of surrendering to do. It's my least favorite thing in the whole world, obviously. But it's time. I can't simply fake it till I make it. And I cannot be a single mother loving myself and my children and others as I desire to be, until I surrender and learn to make peace with the more vulnerable side of me. The side I'd always deemed as ugly, weak and wimpy. Once I surrender and learn to embrace that woman, I think I will not only be happier and healthier but I'll feel whole again. On my own two feet. Without the need of a man or a relationship. Which is truly what I strive to be right now at this time in my life. I realized today that dating is scarier to me than being alone. Which is a huge 'ah ha' moment because I've always been so terrified of being alone. But not anymore. I want to be me and to be an authentic me, ALONE.

And so for the sake of a few laughs. I've made out a mental list of ways to accomplish this. It's my plan of action to get to a place of surrender (yep, i fully acknowledge the irony and hilarity of this). I've decided that I would like to explore the western religion and faiths. I want to learn about shakras, energy, chi, Buddha, and all of the things that have peaked my interest over the last few years that helped me accomplish ds's amazing birth. I want to strive to become more zen. Not perfect, not a mindless thoughtless person. But zen. One with myself, my true authentic self who can stop and ponder and take full breaths without going into cardiac arrest over the issues at hand. I need to drop my unhealthy habits of eating crap food, drinking and abusing my body by not taking care of it. It's time to start walking again and eventually working out. I love me best when I'm in shape. Not because of how I look, but because of how I feel. And I am going to read more. I miss reading and it's been a huge hole in my heart. And so I'm going to get to the library soon and start reading again at night instead of wasting hours on the computer hiding from the world. And i want to learn to cry more. Not become a blubbering mess, mind you. But one who can express her emotions of sadness in an appropriate time and setting, instead of constantly telling the world I'm just fine.

My best friend of 3 years, has only seen me cry once. And it was simply one lone tear, sliding down my cheek last week. She was shocked and teased me that I WAS human after all. She meant it in pure love, but after today's appointment i get what she was saying. She'd never seen me be anything but strong and she was completely open and willing to love the weaker side of me too. And so, I want to learn to accept and open my heart. I use to always say that my children taught me how to cry. Ever since the birth of my first, I cried much more. But still usually always in the privacy of my bathroom and occasionally in front of STBX. But it was rare and always masked with anger. They brought out emotions in me that made me realize I had to let it out. And now my divorce is teaching me that being that stronghold of a you know what, is not my most authentic self. It's someone I taught myself to be as a child, when I realized my cries would go unanswered. It's ok to cry. It's ok to be weak. It's ok to call up a friend and say, "Hey can you come over and we can watch a chick flick and cry our eyes out together?". I don't have to be this way forever. And I think I'm going to like being able to open up more, and i don't mean cry on every one's shoulders. I just mean, express that I'm feeling weak, overwhelmed, scared, happy, joyous, etc. . . I want my children to be able to be their most authentic selves. As women, I want my girls' to grow up strong, authentic, happy and expressive . . .but I've been modeling none of that. I want my son to marry a woman who is sure of herself and feels no embarrassment in her emotions and is able to express them in a healthy manner. Who I am at this exact moment it time, I do not want either of my girls' to become and I do not want my son to marry a woman like who I am right now. Instead I want to model ME, the person I am beneath all the heartache and baggage I've taken upon myself and chose to hide under.

And so, am I my most authentic self? Not a chance in hell. But I'm working on digging her out of the baggage and fear. She's under there and she's a pretty spectacular person. I'm going to really love her. And I bet she's really going to love me for being willing to dig deeper. And so I close with what I love about my life today. I love my therapist, she's an amazing and pretty smart cookie who calls me out on my crap and listens all at the same time. And I love me. I have everything I need to get through this and accomplish my goals and dreams and if i know anything about myself, I know I'll do it.