Shake off the Dust

I used to tell everyone that someday, I would write a book about my life. It would make millions, be on Oprah’s book club list, and I would rake in the cash while sipping on a fancy cocktail by my mansion’s in-ground pool. I’d never have to work a day in my life; I would just be a wife and mom making an income from my fame.

That was the dream.

Yet, here I sit in a desk chair that doesn’t belong to me, working on someone else’s time, just trying to make it to the next paycheck. I never dreamed this.

Now, I know that my angsty teen/young adult fantasy of being a rich author living in a castle was completely unrealistic. Everyone works hard for what they have, and life doesn’t come easy—especially for those who’ve earned their wealth. When you’re barely 19 and think the world owes you something for nothing, you can dream up any illusion you want, believing it’s attainable.

Although I still believe in parts of that “dream life,” it’s why I’m sharing these thoughts here—to stir up that dream dust and maybe ignite a spark. Maybe I won’t have the in-ground pool, but I’ve seen some amazing inflatable ones at Wal-Mart. And any cup will do for a cocktail; just add a paper umbrella and silly straw. It’s all about perspective, right? At least that’s what I’ve been learning.

I’ve felt so down about my current life situation, and it’s easy to get caught in a negative rut about circumstances you’d rather change. However, recently, I had a wake-up call and realized I should share my findings with others who might need the same blunt truth that jolted me into reality. Here’s what I’ve learned after moping for far too long:

Life is not fair, no one owes you anything, and your healing is your own responsibility.

It’s true that the truth hurts. I know because when a hard truth hits me during a tough time, it stings and makes me angry. From that anger, a question rises: “AM I the problem?!” (Cue Taylor Swift’s “Anti-Hero.”) Once the question arises, a cold hard answer follows, leading me to the next phase of the cycle: changing the current reality. I make a plan and take action, feeling rejuvenated and ready to tackle whatever comes my way. This can propel me into the next success that waits just beyond my horizons.

When I had my daughter, I knew that everything I had done up until that point had to change. I never wanted to leave her; I wanted to live out my dream of being a stay-at-home mom, packing lunches for my husband every day, and embodying the June Cleaver role—vacuuming in pearls while dinner cooked. Alas, I had to shatter that fantasy and return to my corporate desk job, entrusting my daughter’s well-being to someone else until I was free to go home. It KILLED me. No one can truly describe the ache of leaving your child every day. For me, being a mom was something I had always wanted. I struggled hard to get to this point—medical issues, bad decisions, and obstacles had kept me from having a baby until my mid-thirties. I spent my whole pregnancy working, living life as usual, while anxiously wondering what life would be like after the baby came.

When she arrived, everything shifted. My worldview changed, my faith deepened, my love for my husband grew, and I was ready to take on anything the universe threw my way to give my daughter the best life possible. Even before she took her first breath, I was transformed in an instant.

Going back to work made me angrier than I had ever been. I was furious with the world for being so expensive, mad at myself for not saving enough money, frustrated with my husband for having debt, and most of all, I was angry at God. I had asked for the gift of motherhood but felt it was impossible to stay home with my child. That anger festered until it reached a breaking point, leading to a harsh reality check.

I have friends who are brutally honest. They tell me the truth, and that, combined with my daily quiet time with Jesus, pulled me out of my anger and into clearer thinking. I realized that my conversations with them were fueled by rage. I was sarcastic, negative, and pitiful. No one sympathized with me, though I thought they owed me that. I was wallowing in self-pity until a few friends shook me awake with tough love. I knew I was wrong, but sometimes stubbornness keeps us from admitting it. I even grew angry at those who tried to help me.

One morning, after a long hiatus, I opened my Bible and came across Psalm 139. It struck me deeply. This Psalm speaks of how God knows us completely and is with us no matter where we go. It made me reconsider my attitude. I remembered 1 Corinthians 10:31, which says, “Whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God.” Had I been dishonoring this? Absolutely. I had taken every blessing from God and thrown it aside in a tantrum, disregarding His gifts. I realized that this job, which I had prayed for and received, was a blessing. I had been acting like the Israelites wandering the wilderness, forgetting their salvation and complaining about everything.

I then began to remember: I had prayed for this job. Prayed hard. Not only did I get the job I prayed for, but there had been numerous instances where I received financial blessing in this job that I knew was from a miracle, and our medical expenses were completely covered by my company. I had asked God for provision for my family and He had provided. This job was a good gift from above that I had mentally thrown out like trash, trying to control what I thought was good for me in a certain time, not acknowledging that I am actually not in control at all, and I need to submit to that fact. 

Life isn’t fair, and the world doesn’t owe you anything. I know we live in a time where social media runs the world, and everyone thinks they are living out their own tv show for their viewers; they all believe-truly-that we owe them. We owe them our adoration, our time, our money, our HELP. I’ve seen people post a Go-Fund-Me so they can buy a boat…I would love to sit here and preach that I would never be like this. However, I believe that it begins as a trickle. There is a thought that creeps in, that maybe it’s not so bad if someone has sympathy on me and helps me out here. “No one ever helped me out, I deserve this”. The trickle turns into a full flow once we have little “allowances” grow larger and then boom, here we are asking for others to buy us a boat for our pleasure. It’s not far off, and I had let myself get almost to this point before I was thankfully pushed into better thinking. Is it fair that I have a full-time job that I dislike, while I take my child to a babysitter? No, it’s not. But how dare I spit on my job when there are so many desperately seeking one and having nothing. Is it fair that the world is so expensive and we struggle to pay bills? No, that is for sure very unfair. However, I still own my home and I have money to maintain living in it. 
I think that being grateful for the place I’m in now is paramount in propelling me into the next part of my life, which will assuredly be home with my babies, watching them grow every second of their lives with me there beside them. The key is patience and thankfulness.

Both are a hard pill to swallow, but I need to give myself grace and make a plan to move forward and heal my hurts. This brings me to the final point: Your healing is your own responsibility.

There was a time I was a mooch. I had one specific friend that allowed my leech-like behavior (thankful for her in my life during that time), and she would let me invade her space. Not just invade, but set up shop in every nook and cranny of her life! She was my escape; I depended on her to survive. Years went by, and I was her sidekick, going literally anywhere and everywhere with her, because I could not be by myself. When I finally found therapy (thank GOD), it became easier to let that friend go be on her own. Or was I allowing myself to be on my own? This friend and I had a falling out, and it was absolutely caused from trying to make her heal me; forcing her to be my “fixer”. I look back now, and sometimes I get embarrassed with how co-dependent I truly was during that span. It was obnoxious, but I didn’t know then that I was trying to make someone else heal me. I was angry and full of blame that I put on other people who had hurt me, and I expected her to put the band-aids over every wound-not even thinking that she has her own hurts and scars to heal. How selfish. This friendship came to a dramatic and explosive end, all because of resentment that the healing didn’t happen the way I thought it should; and that affected both of us.

The loss of that close friendship was incredibly painful, but it taught me valuable lessons. Healing is a process, and while it’s ongoing, it’s also empowering. I have closure and a great (yet distant) relationship with this friend, and we are both healthier for that. I am now in a good place, with an amazing marriage, my dream of having children being fulfilled, and a home of my own.

It’s been a long (and regularly painful) journey, but I’m sharing it because I hope it can help someone else. I’m willing to be that friend who shakes you by the shoulders and points you toward a better path.

Let’s all fight for our dream lives. Shake off the dust and start anew. It’s time to live again.