Monday, August 11, 2014

My Blogaversary

A lot has happened since I hit "publish" one year ago today on my first official post. I was so brave that day, because I was so scared. Scared, like, you-do-not-know-scared I was less scared to push a baby human out of my lady-parts, and for the record, that shiz is pretty scary. I was so scared of what people would think of my thoughts and my fears and my insecurities and my less-than-picture-perfect life and all my complaints, and oh, yeah, my writing.

Oh, writing.

When I write, I am actually writing as if we are having a conversation. And if you have ever met me or spoken with me in person, I think you would understand what I am talking about here: That I write exactly as I speak. I know, my writing has a weird syncopation with an odd cadence, but you always seem to understand and respond to the feelings I am trying to convey. Hopefully, anyway.

I have really come to love this space; my blog place. I realize, too, that that is because of the people that have gathered to laugh and to point and to read my run-on sentences and my huge paragraphs and my one-too-many ands in a sentence because I need to get just one more thought out of my head and through my fingertips and this God-forsaken Windows 8.1 keyboard and onto this virtual page.

You all have brought to me the you-can-do-it-girl encouragements, and the I-cannot-believe-you-had-the-guts-to-say-that sideline conversations, as well as the that-is-exactly-how-I-feel high-fives. That last one is the holy grail of blog comments. That is the one that says, "You did it girl!" I made a connection and I made one other person on this big blue marble know that they are understood.

You are the ones that are hoping I get my shit together, and you keep encouraging me to shine a light into that sad dark empty spot where my heart and happiness is supposed to be. You are the ones that are making me feel less weird and more normal.

You are my tribe.

And I do not have words enough to say all that needs to be said because it is all so overwhelming, so I will simply say, thank you. Thank you!

xoxo Darya


The Golden Girls

We were all at San Onofre California State Beach to celebrate Chigirl's "golden birthday" but by my calculations, she was more than 25-years-old.  Whatever.  I was soon educated as to the reality of a golden birthday:  The occasion when your birth date and your birth years are the same.  Golden.  Silly.  Looking at these beautiful young women wearing golden bathing suits and sunglasses and drinking out of golden cups, I just could not see myself as their twenty-seven.

They come from both coasts and big cities in the middle of the country.  They are smart girls; employed girls; educated girls.  They au pair; they play professional football; they work as paralegals and they work in city government.  They support their boyfriends; two of which travel and train for a major CrossFit box teaching strength and fleet-of-foot, and so many things that are important to athletes and our military.  These girls are part of that community, the box; one is the box, as she is one of the two box-bound trainers; some sell T-shirts and set-up and tear-down at events and literally walk the walk--just look at those abs and arms!  Absolutely beautiful young ladies.  I am so proud of them.  They make me proud to be a girl, too!

Looking at these young women, I want to tell them so many things and by this age, I know what is important and what is just noise meant to distract and derail and demean us as women.  I want to tell these girls to keep being nice to one another; to keep supporting and guiding each other.  Stay tight; stay connected; stay unified.  The world can be a hungry ugly place and you will need your girlfriends to help you through it.  

On my list of Things I Learned in My Fiftieth Year, #28 reads, "I envy girls who have girlfriends and girl's nights out".  I don't envy much; this I envy. A lot. It seems like such an odd thing to think about now, but in all my years of marriages and babies and jobs and gyms and laundry and grocery, I never had a group of gals to have my back.  This Darya is really sad for that Darya doing it all alone for so long.  I could have used a bunch of girlfriends--I really could have used girlfriend.

This isn't the only group of girlfriends I know.  And they all have common threads: They made their friendships in high school, college or as roommates.  They all have a bestie who held their hair back when they had to throw-up or held their purse when they had to pee.  They all have a BFF who understands what their dream wedding gown will look like and the song her and her daddy will dance to.  They all have a genuinely beloved friend who knows the names of her babies before they even fall from heaven.  HmmmGolden.  Maybe not so silly.    

I love these girls; I love what these girls are making of themselves; I love that they love each other; I love that they included me, me who is nearly twenty-seven years older than they are!  But that is okay--I can feel in my bones that it is true what they say about staying young at heart and body and spirit when you surround yourself with the young.  I was flattered to be included with these women that could have been my daughters and whose experiences are so different from my own.

This makes me want to laugh and to cry all at the same time.  This is the first time that I have felt that my time is over; my hey day is gone; my opportunity for what these girls have has been missed.  True?  Most definitely.  Sad?  Kinda.  Jealous?  Maybe.  But it is what it is.  And maybe what it is is just the combination of caring for my mother-in-law and my own aging parents and my own age and my own son and my own friendships and my own questioning of my place in the universe.

Who the hell knows. Maybe I grew up just a little bit as well on Chigirl's birthday.  Maybe it is all true, after all; maybe this is just how life happens.  Golden And definitely not silly

Happy birthday!  

xoxo Darya

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