the joy of swinging

Oh, to be two and this joyful again.

Last weekend I took out my camera, dusted her off and decided that I need to make memories again after a very very long hiatus. I haven't felt well at all in the past 9 months and won't go into much detail, but I missed clicking the shutter. Being on the fence of the action observing it all.

Swinging in itself is such a magical joyful activity. The way our girl reaches up at the swing and begs to be pushed higher into the air. Never high enough for her, asking again and again for more. Oh, and how grateful and joyful this makes me. To hear and see her enjoyment. Seeing her face brightens up, giving way to her beautiful smile although she doesn't want to laugh. Yet she has to. And I can't help but laugh with her.

Oh, to be two and this joyful again.

on growing into myself

I have always been good in taking on roles and acting according to it.
Somehow in the last years I have started to take on the role as wife and mother.
I am doing it good, even well. But underneath it all it's so uncomfortable. I forgot that inside it's still me.

Inside, there is this girl, afraid. Not knowing what to do. Not the responsible, confident adult you meet in the streets, walking her kids to appointments and errands.

The girl is afraid, unstable, unable to come up for air or cry for help. The real me, that got shut down, because there is only room for one of us.
But sometimes the real me surfaces and does what it knows what to do in situations like that when people become so close and attached it hurts and tangles and gets messy. I pack my things and run, I pick fights.

There has been a lot of fighting about things I can not control. Although I don't want to leave, I feel I have to get away in order to stay me. To keep me alive, not just the role of me.
It's hard to feel like this, when no one even understands that things like that happen. And it's hard because it is so twisted in a way I don't know if it's healthy. But how can't it be, if it is what I need?

I feel trapped in this life with only room for my role rather than the real me. My husband is wondering what is going on. I am figuring it out. I am trying to be the girl that is okay with only having two kids instead of a big family she always imagined and dreamed of. The one, who feels like she isn't even able to move on from babies and toddlerhood. The one who is terrified of moving on because babies and toddlerhood feels like safe water. The carousel keeps turning and the years slip by, so I have to move on even when I don't know what I am doing.

This place inside of me is lonely. The girl in me is lonely.
I am working on loving and holding her and taking care of her.

It's hard to let it all coexist. To figure it out without even knowing where to start.

grown-up love

We have been fighting last night. The kids awoke and demanded our attention. We went to bed, crying and upset. There were little bodies to hug and to gently tuck back into bed. we functioned.

A very awkward day followed. Two people, a loving couple, circling around each other like the other is the most fragile china handed down by many generations. Silence piercing the air. No one spoke until we couldn't anymore.

I followed him into the bathroom. He was shaving and the room was lit by a fluorescent light. I crept in and sat on the edge of the cold bathtub. I wondered how this single light can illuminate it all. While I, the one standing right in the middle of it, can only see the pitch-black darkness of despair.
I follow the moves of his body with my eyes and watch him shaving. His glance meets mine in the mirror and I break eye contact. I can't, I think. I just can't bear him looking at me like that, with this argument still between us.

He stops shaving and turns off the fluorescent light. It feels even darker now.
I feel the cold bathtub rim under my body. He sits on the toilet seat right across from me.
What's the matter, he asks.
And really, I want to scream all the nasty things I make up in my mind about this situation. I want to yell. Lose control.
Instead I say that I am sad and hurting. He knows. He says, me too.


We move to a different room in order to talk. We sit beside each other like strangers, deep in our anger and disapointment, neither of us willing to let up. To let the other person in again. To show up and be seen, because it hurts. Little by little we talk through it.
I feel broken.
I feel like something broke between us to the state of not being able to be mended again. I'm afraid this will be the end. We hold the exit door open for each other, very aware that this relationship is not granted. It's not unbreakable or bulletproof.

All I need is the proof of love. Of his never-ending, soul-wrenching, can't-live-without-you love. This is marriage. The impossible rollercoaster-ride of life, with the my soulmate right beside me. With the person that forever will stay worried with me about the kids or the person I always have to forgive. No. Matter. What. This is grown up love.

It's autumn

Just a few weeks ago, mere days it seems, it was Summer and then suddenly Autumn hit us with a cold front. I can't stop drinking hot tea, hanging out in warm overcrowded cafés while wetry to escape from the rain. I'm trying to avoid Autumn, like I try to avoid giving in to the thoughts in my head. Who make up stories of, how I don't matter. How I am just not good enough in too many ways to count. I know they are lies but I am all for curling up and hibernating for good.

It's so easy to wave the white flag and let the lies take over.

The transition from Summer to Autumn wasn't smooth. It's been bumpy and chaotic and uncomfortable. Yet the uncomfortableness get's me. I just can't lean into it in order to make it go away. And even thoughts about the future nag me. How will it all unfold in just a couple years?

Though I sit here and count my blessing. I never thought I would have this much. I am so grateful.


 
 

Vor kurzem, es scheint nur einige Tage her zu sein, war Sommer. Doch plötzlich hielt der Herbst Einzug. Zu plötzlich für mich. Ich wärme mich an meinem Tee, sitze mit den Kindern in überfüllten Cafés während wir versuchen dem Regen zu entkommen. Ich versuche dem Herbst aus dem Weg zu gehen. Den Fakt das Herbst ist, zu ignorieren. Wie die Gedanken in meinem Kopf die mir zu erzählen versuchen, dass ich nicht genug bin in zu vielen belangen um sie alle hier aufzuzählen. Dass ich nicht von Bedeutung bin. Ich weiß, dass es Lügen sind, aber es ist so einfach nachzugeben. Ich will mich einfach nur einigeln.

Es ist so leicht, die weiße Fahne zu schwenken und die Lügen regieren zu lassen.

Der Übergang von Sommer zu Herbst war nicht reibungslos. Er war holprig und chaotisch und unangenehm. Das unangenehme macht mich dünnhäutig. Ich kann es nicht annehmen, um es zu Verarbeiten und hinter mir zu lassen. Zukunftsängste kommen auf. Wie wird das Leben sich ergeben in den nächsten Jahren?

Dennoch sitze ich hier und bin dankbar aus vollem Herzen. Ich habe mir nie erträumen gewagt, dass ich so viel "habe" (wo es doch mit Besitz niemals zu vergleichen oder annähernd zu umschreiben ist). Ich bin so dankbar.