“There are two
kinds of fears: rational and irrational- or in simpler terms, fears that make
sense and fears that don't.”
― Lemony Snicket
For the past 20 years of my life, I've been
living in fear... The more days, months and years pass by, the stronger my fear
grows... If you’ve read some of my earliest blogs, you already know about my less than conventional younger years... And
by “less than conventional,” I’m referring specifically to the way I was
brought up.
I knew love; knew I had it surrounding me
(which gave me the sense of security I needed) but didn't always have it
readily accessible to feel. I didn’t always know how to associate the word, the
look... I knew about family, because mine was big... Big in numbers, in values
and also in expectations... but I didn't always have it surrounding me. There
were times where I wish I had my family unit there for the advice, and the
relatable connection you only have with your siblings; the safety of being able
to let your guard down, like when you set foot “home” every night...
I knew about creating a sense of belonging
and anchoring myself in any environment by building strong friendships that
would sustain me but simultaneously I knew about independence and preservation, because most of the time I
felt alone...
From my early years, I knew I had to take
care of me, be a big girl... and I received a Masters in that field...
A few weeks ago, I was talking with my
nephew and his friend, and we started discussing his sister, who had just gone
through a breakup (first boyfriend, first real relationship, and first love). I
was telling them how dramatic that situation had been and how even though I had
been a great source of comfort, I truly didn't understand the misery she had
put herself through. My nephew laughed at my remarks and said something like, “Ha! Aunty, knowing you, you probably
would've been the one to give him the boot!" We laughed... I laughed,
not because he was right but because it amazed me that I had fooled myself for
so many years. In hindsight, I can see that from my late teenage years to my
early twenties I only got involved in relationships that were challenging, to say the least. And now I
can see that it was because (subconsciously) I wasn't looking for commitment...
I was scared of commitment... I knew how to care and preserve me...
I’ve fallen in love, I've become attached.
Piece by piece, I’ve built the life I wanted to live. I Made commitments and
slowly realized over the accumulation of years, that I was developing a fear of
change and losing what was mine... And then I had babies... My babies...
There's still nothing in this world that I want more than how I wanted to be a
mom. It hadn't been easy. There were miscarriages, and many prayers... I prayed,
prayed and prayed some more, asking God to allow me to be a mom and I promised
that I'd always do good by them if he granted me my wish. Remember what I've
said before, it's when difficult, challenging moments surround you that your
relationship with God becomes of the highest importance!
My good friend just reminded me not too
long ago how miserable people were when they had to babysit my kids because I
used to call every 10 minutes to check up on them and what they were doing. It
was to the point where we had to create the rule, "If you want me to watch the kids, you can only call 1 time!"
When my baby boy was 4 or 5, I decided to
send him home (to Belgium) with my family for the summer, so he could really be
emerged in the all-French speaking environment and bond with his cousins; the
whole idea sounded perfect in my mind. TheHubby was going to travel with him, have
him settle in, and come back while I'd stay here with my baby girl. TheHubby came back without my son and every day that followed I started to
lose it, little by little. What was supposed to be a 2 month experience for my
son was cut very short as I had TheHubby go and bring him back... I feared
him feeling abandoned, not wanted. I feared something would happen to him and
we wouldn't be there, I feared he would forget me and be okay without me...
Now I realize that when we sent him away,
it was at the same age I was when I started my education in a-year-round
boarding school (thousands and thousands of miles away from my parents) and
what I feared for him was probably what I felt...
I developed separation anxiety. I either developed
it or just became aware of emotions that were inside of me… extreme anxiety and
fear when separated from my loved ones. Fears that something bad would happen
to them... Going away for
TheHubby was becoming an ordeal, I would find
a reason to argue or make him feel bad about traveling... if it was me leaving,
I would start getting sick and depressed. The first time one of my kids travelled
by themselves (from Massachusetts to Michigan on a straight flight), I cried
from the time the flight attendant walked down the gateway to the plane with
him, to when the plane landed in Detroit... I didn't move from that chair at
the gate he had just left... what if?
What if they get taken away at the park?
What if they get hit by a car? What if…what if...? WHAT IF??!!!!
WHAT IF has taken over my mind in such a
way, that nothing can ever be the way it really is. I'm always looking for
anything negative that could happen. With stepping into adulthood and building
my life, I enriched my existence with the most precious gifts God could gift me
with, and along with that, I developed a fear of losing it all if in a split second.
I am not in complete control of my surroundings and don’t acknowledge the
potential of possibilities… negative possibilities L
Today, I said bye to my 3 babies and while
I settle for my flight away from them, I feel this familiar pain. I feel like I
am having a heart attack. The bands of my bra are constricting my chest, make
breathing difficult. I do what has become a ritual for me. I look out the small
window and I release. I release by surrendering to God (remember it is always
at your most challenging, vulnerable moment that you remember The ONE who is
really in control… and lately, HE is more than ever in the forefront of my
mind). “God I put my life in your hands because only you know what "IS" for me. If anything would
happen to me, please make sure my babies grow up knowing the love I gave them
is everywhere to be found ... and allow them to find it quickly. Please don't
let TheHubby ever feel as though his shoulder will never be strong enough to
carry our family on his own. And while I leave it in your loving hands, know
that my deepest desire is to be the one to give them the love throughout their
life's moments, and to be
TheHubby's partner in carrying our family."
With the years, my fears have grown more
present but while I have realized that I can't conquer them, I have managed to
not let it take over and cripple me. The independence my kids are organically
gaining is coming at a price for me... The security TheHubby is feeling
in our relationship is also coming at a price for me...
I am learning to see all those things as
positive, however; the WHAT IF’s are
always floating around. So while I’m unable to conquer my fears, I have learned
to control them…
RosieSandz