my homework from my therapist over the past two weeks has been to stop apologizing unnecessarily.
it’s going great. well, sort of. i don’t know when it started exactly, but somewhere along the line, i came to sincerely believe that i am more compatible, hirable, amiable and attractive when i hold a perpetual apologetic posture. and now i’m 30 and i apologize to inanimate objects when i bump into them. i add unnecessary exclamation marks in emails and begin conversations with “i’m sorry if i did this incorrectly” knowing full and well i made no such mistakes. it’s more than a habit at this point, it’s ingrained and innate. and i hate it. i really do. i hate that i feel the need to apologize for taking up space, for speaking, for having questions and opinions and ideas. often times, i feel that i need to apologize before i’ve even said or done anything. like some sort of preemptive apology, just in case. and i feel this is something that’s entirely exacerbated in motherhood. i fight myself internally all day. you’re tired? how dare you? there are people who would kill to feel tired because they’re caring for a child of their own. you’re upset about the house being in utter chaos? well one day your children will grow up and move out and you’ll be wishing you had messes to clean and rooms to tidy. your boob hurts because your baby is teething and using you as a teether? well, remember when you couldn’t nurse your firstborn beyond 6 months? what if that was what it was like now? ungrateful, you are. back and forth, back and forth. it’s as though in recognizing how fortunate i am, i’m somehow not allowed to feel anything but warm and fuzzies about motherhood. and that would be all fine and dandy…if motherhood wasn’t such a complete and utter shit show. my home looks like a small bomb exploded in it every single day. i try to create yummy nutritious meals that my 2 year old promptly throws on the floor. there are days when it feels like no one listens to me. not even the dog. *not knocking the husb here, but he’s working and has to shut out the madness in order to focus. which leaves me to tiptoe among the cars and fruit snacks and pacis and crayons. unload the dishwasher. reload the dishwasher. one load of laundry. then another load. again and again and again. and i’m not complaining! all i’m saying is i get lost in it sometimes. and i think a huge part of that has to do with the fact that caregivers are made to feel like they have to apologize for having completely natural responses to things that are difficult. on wednesday at 4:07 pm drew asked what i needed and i told him, in full sincerity, that i needed him to run me over with the car. he told me to go lie down. i refused, there was too much work to do! he insisted. by 6:10 pm i had had rested for a total of 55 minutes and i felt like an ENTIRELY different person. night and day. maybe people aren’t crazy. maybe the crazy thing is that so many individuals feel the same way i do. they just need 55 minutes! and yet we beat on; with our heads down, saying we’re sorry and excusing ourselves when we’ve done nothing to warrant an apology. my name is laura and i like it when my house is clean and everything is in the proper place. i like to make things tidy and neat. it’s how i show that i care. by leaving places and things better than they were when i found them. and i’m not sorry. i’ve been reflecting a lot as i embark on this new adventure of starting a brand new decade. not only do i want to be better about apologizing, i want to be better about giving myself permission to feel things freely. i’m allowed to be pissed when my kid draws on the walls or throws food or knees me in the boob for the 87th time before 9 am. i’m allowed to feel bummed when things i’ve spent time, energy and effort on go wrong. i’m allowed to need 55 minutes or any other amount of time to regroup and reset. and it’s important for me to call these things out because they are the very things i can’t remember when i’m in my own head and can’t get out sometimes. i hope that if you need to give yourself permission to do or feel or say something, this serves as a friendly reminder that it’s ok to grant yourself just that. a huge part of why we feel crazy is because we tell ourselves that we shouldn’t feel the way we feel. and in doing so we push ourselves to the point of feeling like we ought to be run over by a car. so let’s stop! here and now let’s make a conscious decision to stop apologizing and grant ourselves permission to feel whatever the fuck we’re feeling! good, bad or ugly, we can’t make it right if we’re not honest with ourselves and with those we love. so let’s get after it. down with the unnecessary exclamation points. we are so much more than that. you are so much more than that. don’t be sorry.
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