Not the Woman He Married

Mike and I had a discussion last night. He told me I wasn't the same woman he married. He was so worried I'd cry or be hurt, he's not great at sharing his deepest feelings. My initial thought was, you thought I would be? I mean 18 years is a long time and we have been through so much. My mind was racing, what do you mean? I'm not fun? I'm not pretty? I'm too fat? I'm not carefree? Which is it.

He is concerned that I don't like myself. Oh sigh, what a relief, that's easy, you are so right I don't. Ok that's it really? See here's where it gets tricky. He wants me to like myself. He seems to think if I don't like myself then nothing else will work. Huh, ok I admit it he's probably right. So how? How do I make that happen? Of course he has no idea, other than to loose weight. He seems to think that is making me unhappy. His observation is that I try really hard to loose weight then I sabotage myself. Wow, I had no idea he was that aware or that I was that transparent.

So I did cry. I tried to express the sadness I felt deep in my soul. That I felt like a part of me was missing and I didn't know how to get it back. It's true in the deepest part of me there is pain. I'm not a sad or depressed person. I try to be joyful and fun and full of life. But here's the secret. It's an act. It's like I'm putting bows on over a wound instead of letting it heal.

And what do I have to be unhappy about? I have a wonderful husband and two terrific boys. We have a lovely home and want for nothing. And that part of it makes it harder. That's the guilt of not being grateful.

I have been thinking about all of this and I think I wear my sadness like a badge. That badge is my weight. Wow what happened to you? It's outward, unlike the hurts I carry.

The loss of my mom was probably the most horrible experience of my life. Her death is compounded by not only loosing her but by the horror of it. I do not have the words to describe what it was like watching it happen. The surgery, the diagnosis, the chemo, more surgery, and then the bone marrow transplant. Then the end and promise of more chemo until finally prayers for an end. And while I know she is better today, it doesn't make it easier. It doesn't make it worth it. Not to me. It doesn't erase the memories, the fear, the sadness. And it doesn't help my fears of dying too young.

People think it's been 17 years, get over it! But how? Is getting over it, forgetting? Or is it accepting? Cause I have accepted it. I mean seriously what choice did it have? Is it never wishing it was different? Cause I don't think I could. So how do I put it behind me? How do I not miss every moment for the past 17 years and all the future years when I really needed my mom? I know what she would say. She would want me to be happy, that's all she ever really wanted. And she'd want me to be thin.

And then there is my precious son. I can't begin to tell you all the guilt and pain I feel regarding Avery having down syndrome. And I truly don't see a day in my life where I will say oh yea my son has to struggle. Don't get me wrong, he is my heartbeat. But I want him to have the moon and he can't and I have to be the one to tell him that when he asks.

So how do I find the joy of my soul? How do I heal the pain and fill the void? I want the joy, I choose the joy! I am praying, "Lord heal my soul, fill me with joy, restore the joy of my salvation." "and make me thin." But it is a light bulb moment in my life when I admit that my weight is the outward symbol of my sorrow.

So maybe I have to do it. Maybe I have to feel that it's ok that my mom is gone. Maybe I have to truly trust God that I will see her again. Maybe it's time to stop mourning the loss of her and of my babies. I don't want to loose today being sad about what I didn't have. I don't want to loose a moment of my boys life because I can't feel the joy.

I do want to be the woman he married. The one who's heart was full of joy and love not sadness. I don't want to worry about dying. I want to release all that is not of God and I want to like myself again.

So maybe this is my journey; Learning to like Amy.