What I do? Oh contraire. It is not what I do; rather what don’t I do and, it may even be plausible to ask, why do I do what I do? Well, as always; let me first put on my big girl panties and state, very clearly that site unseen, I am an average 41 year old woman, a mother four children, a early childhood educator and a bound and determined starving artist/writer. And, by no means am I understating the importance of any woman, mother or human being. I have a monumental respect for my gender and certainly for the value and prestige of any mother, regardless of their journey to and through being a mom.
So, when I say average, I do not mean ordinary and without struggle, drama, obstacles, and/or circumstances. I do have so much to be grateful for but I must stress, and it is imperative to state blanketly that; I have been through my own gates of hell and back again. To say that figuratively does not give any justice to what I have truly experienced as a woman, mother and human being in this insane and gratuitously hypocritical society.
But, that is not the discussion of topic–I believe the question was “what do I do?” Okay, finally; drum roll please……….I survive. Literally, I survive but, I must emphasize that I survive with purpose. Sometimes, it is physically monumental that I make it through a day without crying. Whether it be over finances, my children and their gargantuan roadblocks (let’s face it, kids today have a huge testament when they make it out of middle school relatively unscathed) I am consistently mindful of purposefully surviving. I survive my own self-doubt as a struggling author/illustrator, as a survivor of domestic violence and as I call it, my almost alcoholism (I encountered the ease of drinking a bottle of wine a night to cope with my depression and anxiety. This all happening during an extremely volatile time in my life and coincidently, I found it easier than seeking therapy and talking about my problems- after all, therapy is for crazy people). I am a survivor of sexual abuse that took place over 10 long years of my life and, finally; I am a single parent and woman who has learned to embrace her identity rather than run from it (much to the chagrin of the social media marketing craze).
So, in a nut shell…that is what I do. I survive. I survive with purpose.
Maybe I will elaborate on “the how” in part 2 of this sarcastically poignant piece that explores my need to purposefully survive. In the meantime; if you are surviving…keep going. Keep picking up your feet, keep moving. Don’t stop. You are important. You matter. You will find your purpose.