Here’s to hoping there is light at the end of the tunnel.
The Pressure.
Life is full of it. How do you manage the pressure? Well, I am not always sure.
I have been thinking about pressure a lot lately.
I am wearing a compression hose up to my thigh, it puts pressure on my leg and holds my veins in, it keeps it from swelling and gives it support. So pressure isn’t always bad.
Pressure Cookers are good, you can cook a delicious meal in under 30 minutes in one of those. Yum, that would have been handy tonight. My kids and I had popcorn at the movies for dinner, and I felt the pressure of not feeding them something a little more substantial right beforehand. They had a big lunch. Homemade Lunch I might add, and no body complained so I let it go.
I have Meet the Teacher night this coming Thursday. I had surgery on my leg Tuesday, so I am pretty much feeling the pressure to have everything perfect before my student’s meet the teacher…except I am still tired from surgery and my leg HURTS. How am I going to pull this one off? I don’t know yet. PRESSURE.
I had a pressure release today actually, a dear friend of mine offered to help me with my classroom. You know I am typically a, “I got this covered” kind of perfectionist girl. The fact that he offered was a huge pressure release. Relief. A helper. I think this is a key to relieving the pressure, having someone to work through it with.
The new Common Core Standards in teaching..more pressure, but I am confident in teaching and so I have that one covered.
What about the pressure of kissing a boy? I can’t even look boys in the eyes most of the time without feeling the pressure of insecurity. That’s a desirable trait. Feeling insecure. You sort of have to look at someone’s face in order to kiss them. PRESSURE.
At the beach in Spain there was NO PRESSURE to have a perfect body, natural bodies were PERFECT. Even mine.
It was hard to not compare the beach in Spain to my last beach experience at the Huntington Beach Singles Conference. There were a lot of peacocks, men and women prancing around in the sand. They may as well had a tattoo across their chest that said…look at me… They were perfect and not natural, not natural at all in fact and probably more insecure than me because what do I have to prove? Except, I felt the pressure of perfection. That little voice that said, a perfect body is the only way you are going to have the life you want. A perfect stomach, in a perfect bikini, with a perfect tan, and then some. Oh, and what about the pressure of aging? Wrinkles. You are not perfect.
Then I read this: An excerpt from the book I read at the beach called, Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter.
The first impression one gets of Michael Deane is of a man constructed of wax, or perhaps prematurely embalmed. After all these years, it may be impossible to trace the sequence of facials, spa treatments, mud baths, cosmetic procedures, lifts and staples, collagen implants, out patient touch-ups, tannings, Botox injections, cyst and growth removals, and stem cell injections that have caused a seventy-two-year-old man to have the face of a nine-year-old Filipino girl.
I feel pressure to be young, look pretty and thin but I want to look like me and feel like me. Aging is natural, and the body wasn’t ever meant to be perfect. We are not meant to be perfect. I prefer the Spain attitude, just be happy in your skin. Enjoy the beach, love your kids and play. That is a happier way to live. I heartily laughed at this excerpt because who wants to be 72 and look like a 9 year old Filipino girl?
My friend wants me to go to a Fireside with him Sunday. I said, NO WAY. I have a limp from surgery! Again, there is that perfection thing. Plus, the pressure of talking to everyone and being happy and friendly. I know, sad that I feel this way but sometimes I just want to be friendly and talk to the people I know and actually LIKE. Less pressure. BUT then there is the PRESSURE…FAITH WITHOUT WORKS IS DEAD and if you really, actually would like to get remarried someday..hopefully sooner than later that means one thing. You have to get out there and rub shoulders with people. So you can go on dates, which lead to having to look men in the eyes. Which leads to…kissing. Is there a way to go about this without the pressure?
In Spain I bought a baby dress. Why? I don’t know it made me sad but I couldn’t help it, it was so cute. There is some more pressure. My heart is aching for a baby. ACHING. I think that is probably why I bought the dress. YOU should never admit that you want babies especially if you are 35 going to be 36 in about a month. OH and single OH and can’t look men in the eyes. There is a twinge of sadness in this pressure for me and a sliver of hope too. Pressure I put on myself.
Last Sunday I went to church and there was this beautiful family. Three children, one of which was just a new, little, precious baby. There was a wedge in my throat, and I was sad. I almost, ALMOST cried. Then I remembered all the turmoil I went through to get Aydan here, and how just one day it happened. I found out I was pregnant and then I remembered that a couple years later Ellie arrived without a hitch! I realized that I don’t know what the future holds. I mean I could get married this year. I just don’t know it. Maybe it is around the corner, and maybe it is not. But in that moment I counted my blessings because I thought maybe the Mom in that family looks at my life and thinks it is pretty great. I was tan, had hardly any make-up on, I was at church without anyone hanging on me or needing my help. I mean I had just been on vacation for almost two weeks. I have two children who I love more than I could even express to you in words. There are twinges of sadness here and there but I am really happy. I mean truly, sunshiny, big smile on my face, giggling happy.
Now. If I can just get rid of some of this pressure!
XOXO The Sunny D