Warily I write this, knowing that an outright commitment to something usually results in a blatantly self destructive rebellion on my own part. A January 1st New Year's Resolution typically ends in a January 2nd protest against resolutions. Vowing to lose 10 pounds becomes a gain of 5; Getting organized results in living in chaos... you get the jist.
Something feels different now. It's not the usual resentment for the soccer moms that always have makeup on and know how to make a wreath from scratch. I am over the longing to have some sort of Martha Stewart meets Heidi Klum expectation for myself. Don't get me wrong I totally believe in setting the bar high, but recently I realized that I was always so busy trying to find something wrong with myself COMPARED to everything else, that I forgot all the things I loved about myself. Some doctor told me that my reason for being scatterbrained and disorganized was possibly Adult ADD and gave me some prescription. Sorry pharmacy, but you can restock that one because as far as I am concerned my biggest flaw, while frustrating at times, is something I embrace. It took several life changers I guess. Always the control freak martyr it's easier to take the blame or try to figure out how I messed something up than releasing the reigns to the true culprit.
So I am proclaiming it loud and proud. I'm a little crazy, not a good housekeeper, and my weight fluctuates - but I am ok with it. When I want to I can have control, but when I am tired I can release it. I feel like I just grew up and now my real life is about to begin.
How long does it take before you can really say a person affected your life? Does it take one year, one decade, or just one hour? A few months ago I walked into the office of Suzette DeJarnette and in her first sentence I was affected. "Hello, I am Sharon Vaughn. How are you today?" I asked this question in my usual first-meeting, sales-girl voice. As she was to counsel me on my deepest thoughts and issues I naturally assumed the enthusiasm of her response would reflect all the happiness she wanted me to find following our time together. "I'm medium today," Suzette replied honestly and instantly informed me of her credibility. Though I enjoyed her honesty I also I admit to being nervous. In my new-found pursuit for authenticity, I feared I would not have the luxury of filtering myself to gain a favorable judgement from her. But it (and she) was all just what I needed. Our hours together were short and memorable. She was an original feminist, a straight shoote...