Fighting the Good Fight: Part One: The Cause

It’s been boiling and gurgling inside of me for some time now like a seedy little demon gremlin that’s been trying to rip through my belly like something out of Sigourney Weaver’s nightmares. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was… I’m still not sure I know entirely what it is. It’s not indigestion, I know that much. Indigestion goes away. This feeling has been ebbing and flowing like a tide, some days higher than others.

It feels a bit like a breakdown. Like I’m trying to keep it together, keep the pace, keep my head above water, and keep up the juggle, the struggle and everything in between. And because I am a person that battles head on, I fight hard. There’s no quit button. That also means that after a fight, I’m beat down and tired out.

To make a bit more sense, I should start with some way, way back background knowledge.

I’ve been here before. Years ago in my 20’s I waged a small war between who I was and who I could be. Fresh off a heartbreaking breakup, I weighed whether I could change to fit a mold that someone else wanted me to fit. I couldn’t fit that mold. Who I was won out over who I could be. The right “Who” won. But this time feels different. This adversary feels like it’s planning on staying around longer, fighting harder. Fighting dirtier.

See this time, the fight isn’t clear cut. Neither is the winner. Neither is my opponent. He’s multiplied and I’m spread thin.

Now in my 30’s I’m in a totally different place. Actually, totally different places. Plural. Mom. Wife. Writer. Older. Not traditionally employed. Expat. Down a best friend. These are foreign places for me. Uncharted territory. This time around I have people that depend on me. I don’t have time to soak my wild oats and figure out who I am becoming. I’m responsible for others. This time, when I saw the battle approaching my doorstep, I knew it would be a bigger opponent than last time, but now, unlike in my 20’s, I’d have far more to lose. Far more people to let down. That thought in itself could be suffocating.

So these tidal waves of doubt pound at my door and they can’t be stopped right now. Not all at once. There are too many to fight at once.

This isn’t going to be an easy fight. I’m used to being certain, to not doubting myself, to knowing what I want and what comes next, to getting organized and being ready. This will not be an easy fight for me to win

…but it can be won.

My first step was to seek out help in the form of books. The first is an art journal e-course run by Brene Brown, author of The Gifts of Imperfection. It’s a 6-week course to help you be vulnerable and open to courage, compassion, and connection by journaling (a word I love).

Maybe if I could let go of perfection I can let go of some doubt too. In our first week we were asked to write this simple message on our hand, take a picture, and tape it into our art journal to remind ourselves that we are not perfect, we are IMperfect and that’s enough.

I asked Husband to come along for the ride and being the supportive and tuned-into-my-crazy-ideas man he is, he agreed. In the midst of taking our “imperfect” pictures, our daughter called us.

“Mami, papi… photo.”

I looked over to take her photo and there she was, hand raised in united Imperfection. With a simple, innocent, gesture I remembered why it is so important for me to accept myself and be vulnerable, courageous, compassionate, and connected. Why I need to banish these self doubting ideas that paralyze me from the things I want in life. Because everything I do matters; it matters to her. And what I do — who I am — is what she becomes to some degree. She learns her first lessons from me.

I am right that I have more to lose. But I also have more reason to fight. 

And although I am certain that I will lose battles along my journey, I know that this demon gremlin of self doubt hasn’t got a chance of winning the war because her united fist of Imperfection armed me with what I need for the first step of this fight: my cause.I share this vulnerable space with you for the same reason that I asked Husband to come along for the ride… because I know at some point in this fight to challenge self doubt, I will need allies. And if you reading this has ever felt even a smidgen of self doubt, you will understand that allies are important.