A Love Letter To My Female Posse

About once a month I get together with some lovely ladies for dinner. Sometimes we’re with our spouses but more often it’s just us. There’s something almost magical about having a posse of ladies behind you no matter what. When we’re together we don’t need to be the caretaker or organizer. We don’t need to be mom or wife or daughter. More and more I’m seeing the enormous mental and emotional load woman carry around and how heavy and lonely it can be. The responsibility we’ve taken on to keep those we love as happy and comfortable as possible, no matter the cost to us, can seem enormous at times. I feel like a bit of a fan girl to be honest. So, this is a love letter to all the amazing ladies that fill my life.

 

I cherish your ability to create genuine connection. Whether it’s over coffee or cocktails there’s no moments of awkward silence. Often there’s laughter and silliness but sometimes there’s tears and angry rants. There’s no competition, jealousy, or pettiness. Just a warm space to be raw, honest, and ourselves.

 

I’m amazed by how much sh*t you can fit into one day. Your color-coded iPhone calendars with everyone's (EVERYONE’S) activities filling up the days looks daunting. Dropping off kids at school, dance, band, hockey, all the doctors and dentist appointments plus work schedules. There are literally no days without a dot to remind you which roles you need to fulfill that day. Wife, mom, daughter, employee, sister, friend and sometimes all of the above. Even my calendar has a lot of dots without any kids so I can’t even imagine how utterly exhausted you must get and yet you keep going because the sh*t needs to get done.

 

I’m honored to be a witness to your messiness. The imperfections you may try and hide from most of the world provides the richness and flavor to our relationship. I’m humbled when you share all that makes you feel broken knowing that we’ve created a space safe enough to hold all that shame, pain, and heaviness. 

 

What I wish for those ladies I love, and those I don’t know, is that you can see how spectacular you are. How you are often the foundation of your families, sometimes even the extended ones, and how you carry that with grace, patience, and even a little humor. If I could come to each of your houses and celebrate how wonderful you are I would, but honestly there’s just not enough days in our calendars without dots. 

Greetings From a "Selfish", Child-Free Woman

 

    Controversial topic I know. Let me add some more formula to that reproductive fire. I’m not really a kid person. I know, I know. How could I, someone with ovaries and a uterus, not enjoy being around children?! It’s not that I find anything inherently wrong with children. I happen to care a lot about a select number of children. It’s that for a number of reasons I just didn’t want to spend my life surrounded by kids and for that reason some parts of society have deemed me as selfish. Talk about a loaded description for a woman. We’ve been socialized to see selfish as one of the worst judgments that can flung upon us. Martyrdom seems to be the gold standard.

     

    I’m going to share a few reasons I chose not to have kids. And yes, to some people they’ll seem selfish and trivial and maybe, just maybe that’s ok. Perhaps other people’s judgements aren’t my business because in the end they’re not really about me.

 

1)I find a lot of children to be very overstimulating and exhausting. These are two of the biggest triggers for my bipolar disorder, which is not particularly well controlled even with meds, meditation, yoga, walking…all the things. So, not being triggered in the first place is the best way for me to manage my bipolar symptoms. 

 

2)I spend a large chunk of my time focused on what I want and need and I’m not ashamed of that. Because of this I’ve done a lot of things that I may not have had time or space to do if I had children. So far, I’ve birthed a brewery with my husband, self-published a book, and learned so very much about myself. It’s 1pm on a Thursday and I’m in a café drinking a caramel frappe, listening to 90’s hip hop, and writing about why I don't want kids. Tonight I'll spend an hour or so practicing piano which is my newest creative focus. I love the freedom to focus on myself and what I want to accomplish in life.

 

3)My husband and I are my top priority. Because we don’t have children there is a lot of space for us to explore ourselves and all aspects of our relationship. Space for growth, change, and creative endeavours are important parts of who we are. 

 

I am by no means saying that not having kids is somehow better than having them but for some of us what we need and want in life just doesn’t jive with prams and playdates.  

3 Things I've Learned From Being Married To A Sensitive Man

                 You know those fairy tales that present the optimal male partner as a man who can cry, hold intense eye contact, and make you feel really seen and understood? Well, what those movies don’t talk about is the emotional healing and growth you need to do on yourself to be able to hold space for all of that raw emotion, sensitivity, and vulnerability. 

 

                  My husband and I have had many conversations about how people say they want a man who is sensitive and vulnerable but we’re not so sure that they would enjoy, or even be able to handle, the reality of a partner like that. I think it’s important that society has a conversation about this. If we keep telling men that we want them to show up a certain way and then for whatever reason we reject them because of that, that’s unfair and could shut those wonderful parts of them down.  

 

                  So, my small contribution is sharing my reality of living with and loving an emotional, sensitive, and vulnerable man. Here are 3 things that may shed some light on what it can take to create a safe space for a sensitive man.

 

1)Can you sit with your partner while they sob and not feel scared or out of control? Can you watch them fall apart and just hold space without trying to fix it? My husband, just like me, doesn’t always have convenient, tempered, and beautiful feelings. Sometimes he feels hopelessness, despair, and rage. In order for me to be able to sit calmly and in a supportive role while my husband shows up extremely vulnerable I need to be ok with my own hopelessness, despair, and rage. If I hadn’t dealt with a lot of my own sh*t then I would probably either reject his vulnerability because I’m uncomfortable or always end up making his pain about me.

 

2)Open and honest communication is key. Luckily I love talking, but some of our conversations are super uncomfortable because he’s able to show up quite emotionally exposed. It can hard to watch someone I love so deeply hurt so much and feel helpless to make anything better or knowing that I have hurt him in some way. I need to be able to stay open and vulnerable even in the hard moments when all I want to do is shut down because he deserves a safe space to fall apart just like I do. This, again, is about doing my own healing and growth work.

 

3)Maybe this is just me but I actually find it harder to stay in an emotional and vulnerable moment if my husband is expressing how much he cares about me. Especially when paired with intense eye contact.  I’m not sure I really believe in unconditional love but if it’s real my husband is the closest person I’ve ever personally known to reach it. I’ve had to do some deep healing around my abandonment issues to be able to stay at least somewhat open to a type of love that I still have a hard time recognizing. A love that is deep, grounded, and unselfish. I would say this area still needs work on my part. 

 

I can’t imagine being with someone who wasn’t as sensitive, emotional, and vulnerable as my husband because it has been the most amazing gift but I also know that some people probably couldn’t (or wouldn’t want to) create a relationship that could safely hold all that raw emotion. And that’s perfectly fine because we all need and want different things from a partner. What’s important is understanding what that is and how you want it to present itself so that you aren’t sending mixed messages about wanting a Disney prince but when they show up needing Kleenex you shut them down.

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You...

  

  I understand that the end of this saying is supposed to be stronger. However, I highly disagree that this is always the outcome of long and/or extreme struggles. I think what doesn’t kill you can make you too exhausted to live the life you want, shut you down, make you resentful and sarcastic, and a whole host of other not so positive consequences.

 

            From my experience, and what I’ve witnessed in others, there is a point at which pain does lead to strength but once the struggle becomes too intense or lasts too long it’s not strength and resilience that are the prominent outcomes. It can be much more destructive and change the person at a fundamental level.

 

            My hardest struggle, bipolar disorder, has not killed me but it has made me resentful and exhausted. I’m resentful that no matter how hard I try to make forward momentum in my career and finances I’m always being pulled back into bipolar’s seemingly endless and horrible symptoms. It’s exhausting to constantly be starting all over again.

 

            But I think the worst outcome of my bipolar struggle is how much time I spend hating myself because of how broken I feel. Is it as bad as it was twenty years or even five years ago? Probably not, but I spend too much time feeling like I’m a failure and worthless. 

 

            So, why is this saying so popular and why can it be problematic? Perhaps because people are trying to come up with reasons for why they are facing certain challenges in life but I think that sometimes horrible things just happen and trying to convince ourselves or other people that our only choice is to become stronger can make everything harder and heavier. Maybe for your harder struggles, you can allow yourself the space and grace to feel all the negative feelings without the expectation that you also need to somehow create more strength and resiliance within yourself.

What's My Life Purpose?

Whenever I see an article or video about how to find my life purpose my tummy gets all wound up, my breathing gets shallow, and I have this sense of impending doom. Like somehow, I’m just wasting away my life waiting for the next Netflix murder mystery series to drop and on my death bed I’ll still be writing about how I’m basically a mess but hey, aren’t we all. I’ve taken all the What is Your Purpose quizzes and read all the 5 Ways to Realize Your Purpose articles. Heck, I’ve even tried on other people’s purposes and somehow, they’re never the right fit or color.

 

Maybe I just don’t understand how this whole life purpose deal works. Do you have just one or does it change over time? How big a dent does it have to make in the world for it to count? And for the love of all that’s confusing, what does it feel like when you finally figure it out? There’s often that one liner in romantic movies when someone asks how you know you’re with the right person and the already confused character gets told, “You just know.” Like how is that helpful?! If they knew then they wouldn’t be asking.

 

When I was younger it seemed much more clear what my purpose was but it turned out I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong. I was sure I was supposed to be a counsellor. However, my bipolar disorder made it VERY clear that this was not the path for me. When I tried to help others, or even go to school to learn how to help others, my symptoms would get infinitely worse and I’d end up crying and hiding in my closet until eventually I’d have my medication increased. Incidentally, my dear readers, it only took me 25 years to learn that lesson so I’m definitely winning at life. 

 

So, if you’re like me and struggling with this whole purpose of my life question you are not alone. And if you’ve figured out how to definitively know what you’re supposed to bring to the world let me know. I need a better answer than, “You’ll just know”.

The Hard Work

As we fumble our way through the painful parts of life, we often leave bits and pieces of our aching selves by the side of the road. Sometimes it’s because we don’t have the tools to work through the pain or we don’t have the space in our lives to face the hurt, but sometimes we just don’t want to. Slogging through pain, shame, guilt, fear, or whatever lovely gifts are left over from our time of suffering sucks. Like sucks hard. But sadly, when we abandon parts of ourselves to live a life that is “enough” we eventually hit a wall called “but I want more”. I want more love, trust, abundance, faith, courage, fill in whatever word you like but the more is found in the pieces of yourself you left behind.

 

I’ve left a lot of Brandi pieces along the side of the road. It’s been easier to abandon her then feel all the shame and hurt that are left over from a childhood where my father left too soon and my stepfather stayed too long. But I’m starting to break a little. Maybe more than a little. Break down or break open I’m not quite sure but I have a sneaky suspicion they’re really the same thing. I need to become whole again because I want a life where I can really trust in love. Feel the excitement of love. Show up to love with a heart full of hope. And the only place I’m going to find that trust, excitement, and hope is in the pieces of me I left behind. The younger me who isn’t battle weary but can see love as the gift it really is and not just a way to be hurt and abandoned.

 

I have an amazing love in my life who is doing his very best to show up as vulnerable as he can and all I do is keep raising the bar of what I “need”. Unfortunately, reaching this bar is unachievable because I’ve designed it that way. I’m figuring out that I’ve never been able to fully trust in our love and that I keep raising that bar so that at some point he’ll say screw it and give up (which is doubtful) and it’ll prove to me that no love is safe. That I was right all along and even the most incredible men will hurt me and leave me in the end. Then I can continue to abandon my younger self and never have to feel all the awful, unresolved feelings. 

 

So here I am hoping I’ll be able to gather all those pieces of young Brandi I’ve scattered on my path and that when I find them, I’ll know what to do with them. That young Brandi can forgive me and teach me how to show up to love with hope and not with my runners on. Somewhere inside of me I already know that my love is the kind of person I can trust wholeheartedly; it’s me I’m not so sure of. I need to stop trying to control every movement of our love because I’m scared of being hurt and abandoned. The truth is that I abandoned myself long before he came along and no one can hurt me as much as I’ve hurt myself.

 

So lovely readers, here’s to hoping we can give ourselves enough grace to sit in our own pain with an open heart and become whole again.

Childhood Emotional Abuse

            I wasn’t going to write this blog but I need to take some of my power back. I’ve found it hard to create a flow with these words because trauma is messy and unpredictable but it’s time to create some space for my feelings of helplessness to tell their story. 

 

 I don’t often talk about the awful man who made my childhood much harder than it needed to be. I say I hated him and he was awful and leave it at that because I carry so much shame around how his treatment made me feel weak and powerless and never, ever good enough. How could I admit that I let someone, especially a man, make me feel small and insignificant? Even though I was only a child some part of me still believes I could have changed the situation so that he couldn’t hurt me or anyone else I loved.

 

Abuse, especially at a young age, steals your innocence, vulnerability, and trust. I had to grow up much faster than I should have and have trouble being open to affection. I find it hard to make eye contact when I feel positive and powerful emotions, saying l love you can be challenging, and seeing someone’s eyes soften with love makes me anxious and want to shut down. Why would someone love me? What do I need to do to deserve this love? When will they figure out how broken I am and run away?

 

I don’t remember a lot of the details of the abuse because I left my body so much as a child. My brain couldn’t compute why someone would treat their family with such anger and disrespect so it just shut down. I still have moments where I feel scared to take up space in my own home because when you’re convinced that you aren’t good enough at a young age there’s always that nagging voice that says, “Maybe he was right. Maybe I’m just kidding myself.” 

 

Emotional abuse is often hard to recognize because it’s weaved into a life that can look great on the outside. A garden full of flowers, church on Sunday, and trips around the world. The abuser can be well respected by their peers and do many positive things for their community. They can even be seen as a hero to some but this may not be the same person that calls you demeaning names because your shorts are too short.

 

            And where are the people who are supposed to protect you? Well, sometimes they are hiding with you because they don’t want to be shouted at either. It’s a messy situation where there are no easy answers and some days are really good. So good that you think maybe life is going to finally change… but then the next day you’re back hiding and crying in your closet. There is hate but there is also love and loyalty and your own sense of shame and guilt that you can’t somehow change yourself into the person they want you to be. That is, if they want you around at all. And sometimes they really don’t.

 

            But with 30 years of slow healing, I’ve found some of the gifts buried underneath all his hate and desperation. That time in my life helped me realize that I deserve only the most gentle, vulnerable, and sensitive love which I’ve found in my partner. It taught me that I can survive almost anything which gives me lots of space to take risks, fall on my ass, and get back up to chase my next dream. And finally, digging up all that pain gives me a seemingly endless pool of compassion and empathy for others who are suffering.