Slow Growing & Still Going Through

The end of 2014, heading into 2015 was my cliff.

It’s a beautiful thing to read books, listen to podcasts, be sent articles, by people who have been through, have gotten through.

Getting through is my goal.

Because I’m still going through.

At the end of 2014 two things converged to shove me off what was my cliff. In the least traumatic order they were:

1. My youngest graduated from college. What do you call the single mom who sends her third chicklet off, successfully, safely, with promise for a solid future? Unmom? Nonmom? Supermom? Stoicmom? Proudmom? All of these. Also, tired. Also, and this was the one that really knocked me for a loop: the change from the place called home, to the place they would stop by. All normal evolutions in the progression of children who have grown strong, independent. Still. It did something to me that took years to identify. I had put more identity into being mother than contractor/business owner for so long, I had disappeared. It made me lift my foot off the edge of the cliff, but didn’t shove me over.
2. At the end of 2014 I had moved back to Houston from Sedona where I lived for one year to test out living somewhere. I was in pursuit of finding my place. 53/54 years old and I had yet to put roots in any place. I had no attachment to a place to call home, hometown, my place. Soon after returning to Houston the mega oil and gas equipment company I was a contractor with for 5 years, cut my team lead role and the team of 5 people I hired through my little consulting company were without jobs. Living the life (it was definitely not a career) of a technical writer/contractor gave me a lot of money and zero security. Not to mention, my money skills were non existent. After all, I’d been crafting a life out of thin air for my three kids and myself since 1997 with increasing if risky, success. My lack of financial planning combined with riding my finances along the road of famine/feast/famine for almost 20 years caught up with me.

There’s a fruit tree called the PawPaw. It can take between five to seven years to bear fruit. If you look at the fruit of it, it’s pretty messy looking, the descriptions of it are “custardy”. I have never eaten it, it sounds like it tastes good but it comes with a warning that some people who eat it will experience serious stomach issues. There are aspects of my life that match with the slow growing, messy looking, delicious but might cause stomach upset fruit of the PawPaw.

At first, when I got to this part of writing to you, I wanted to leave out a lot of detail about the path I’ve taken during these last few years. But. Sigh. Part of regrowth is looking in the mirror and acknowledging the things I chose to do. Besides, this is for any of you who are still in it and wondering if there is anyone else out there dealing with shit like you are. *Raises hand. Waves.* Yes, let’s keep reading about all of the successful women who have overcome - let’s also acknowledge the many many many of us who get stuck sometimes.

After his graduation. After the job loss. I suddenly had a lot….lots…of time. I did not find another job. I did not sit with my situation and figure out what I did wrong so I could solve it. I did not keep it together. I ran away. I left Houston and moved in with my parents in Illinois. At 55. My children all pitched in and took over the few bills I kept (remember how proud I said I was that I sent three kids out into the world well prepared? That part is true. Also true? I neglected to prepare myself financially for a future, emotionally for this phase in life and that awful lack has hurt my kids).

I have been a good mother. Not the best mother. I left an abusive weak insecure man after 18 years of taking his shit and failing to protect my kids in some ways, while fighting for them in so many other ways. For that fight, I am proud. For my many failures, I beat the shit out of myself daily.

What was supposed to be a few months of respite is still a problem for me today (it’s October, 2021). I got paralytically stuck and stopped doing. I did get two temp jobs I talk about in this post. But I pretty much stopped hustling. Stopped doing anything that outwardly looked like productivity.

I did, however, start to feel a lot of things I was able to keep at bay for the last 24 years since I divorced the ex abuser. (There is nothing “my” about him, he was a destructive cruel person who wasted the beautiful things he was given in his life.)

Like the PawPaw-I’m a slow grower. It took me the last seven of the 18 years I was married to leave. I know my nature. When I was in corporate situations, I forced myself to speak up, make fast decisions and build things quickly. It was exhausting. The value of fast over anything else is something this culture made a huge mistake about. I’m a contemplater. I’m quiet until I have something to offer. My work is stellar. Still, I know I take a lot longer at everything than most people are willing to tolerate. That’s what is happening now.

I have gotten through the self disdain that was growing wild in my soul. I still have a lot of pain that I attempt to work through with occasional success. Shame was the biggest cloud in my life. I know what my situation looks like outside of my experience. I know there are plenty of things people want me to do. I try some of them to keep things smooth with people in my life, I don’t follow through on some and that frustrates some people in my life.

This is a post that doesn’t have a conclusion. It’s slow going, slow growing, still going through.