An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

I've been waiting to write about this for awhile. Up till now it was not ok to share. Now it is. When people have asked me if I have kids my answer has always been, "Yes, two and two with bookend girls. That has changed in the last 3 months (or perhaps it was never what I thought). My third child, my precocious, intelligent, articulate, bright, confounding third child is a woman born in a man's body. She has started the transition process and is getting support from friends, family and work. Her process is not mine so I won't speak of what she is going through, good or bad, when it doesn't involve me. I am one to make assumptions and judgements and to hear what I want to hear to put this mom heart at ease. Her story is best told by her. Boy Scout and I are educating ourselves and trying to move out of the "in my day" nonsense to true acceptance and love without question. It can be confusing....all of it, and it can be hard to know where to draw the line o

This is Wayne. Wayne, well educated white male, puts his own face on a giant billboard telling us how he, yes WONDERFUL him, is empowering females to be their best. Is it because he has some women working beneath him and his partner son, allowing them to give exemplary client service?  Is he paying those women an extremely generous salary so they can achieve their dreams?  Or is it that he gives his women clients special advice or a big discount for his unique services?  He likes tooting his own horn that’s for sure. Do we need Wayne to empower us? Did you ask him to empower you? Does he know what our best is? He may, in fact, somehow be empowering females to be “their best” but he missed this one by a mile.   

The Boy Scout has been talking a whole lot of football for the last couple of weeks. Glassy eyed, I  listen to his descriptions of plays, rules, gossip and statistics. I try to be interested. I do. But the fact of the matter is I believe it to be a yucky form of hyper-masculinity, violent and gaudy. Not my thing. This afternoon I was sitting on the couch, with my pad at my fingertips, watching Kansas City and Buffalo have at it, when I hear this strange sound. pfff pfff snort, pfff pfff snort. I look over to see Mr. Football himself, fast asleep and making a scene of it. It's barely half time. I pulled myself out of there to a more comfy spot with no pfffing around and am feeling good about it. Got better things to do than to pretend to watch football with my comatose couch potato.

I currently attend 3 Adult Children of Alcoholics and Disfunction meetings.  London, Helsinki and Munich are my consistent go to’s. Somehow I ended up chairing the Munich meeting. It is full of a group of lovely Germans but the one American is hosting it. This meeting is structured, with a specific focus on the survival traits we developed in the family home and how those affect us now. It suits me well. The other week, for some strange reason, there wasn’t a single man in the meeting. It suddenly, by default, became a women’s meeting. The dynamics changed. It was quite  lovely to watch. We became a sisterhood of support and encouragement that had not been present otherwise.   This week the men were back. I’m glad that they were there as I’ve grown to care for them but I missed what we had the week before. It was special. 

Once again I am faced with changing my dreams, adjusting my hopes and expectations. I had wanted to see the world, travel, experience new cultures, walk the Camino, see the Northern lights. I am trying to surrender, let go, breathe and let the universe take care of it all. Tired of buying into what our society says is successful or desirable and then having it tell me, “Not for you chica.” My lifelong quest for security and feeling safe has been misguided, it has not served me well. My sense of self was far too based on a job well done, a generous income and planning for the future. I want to adjust my sails but I don’t know a thing about sailing.  Finding a new tribe, simplifying my life,  paring down what I want or would like from the world.  A new journey but in need of a willing heart. 

Still no job but I've got a call in to Oregon Vocational Rehab. Not at all sure what they will have to offer an old gal that is very hard of hearing but we shall see. The hearing aids have had a go over. They are state of the art for Atypical hearing loss and in fine working order but it's kind of like trying to drive a car with no spark plugs. When the loss is severe to profound no amount of amplification will fix it. I simply do not hear much in the low or high frequencies. Many people just sound like Charlie Brown's school teacher. Wah wah wah! It's all good though. I've, for the moment, given up fretting about what will be and am accepting that I will keep trying until I find something that is a good fit. We shall see. Got an electrician coming today....Yay! I've been needing some GFCI outlets installed. I've done it for myself before but this house is wired differently so I think I'll watch what he is doing and go from there on the rest. Not worth r

Jill, my good friend, and I FaceTimed today. Not that I needed it but it reminded me of just why I love her so much. We used to meet for lunch once a week unless one of us was out of town.  She got me through the terrible disaster that my marriage turned out ot be, kept me sane when there was nothing sane within the walls of our home and told me I needed to get myself to a counselor (and she was right). I was by her side as she spent years trying to get a diagnoses for her daughter who was abused and neglected as an infant before Jill adopted her. Years to find out why she never slept, why she scratched, why she was hyper-sexual from a young age. The teen years were the worst and it took its toll. I was relieved when they sent her to a special school for extraordinary cases (unfortunately, she was kicked out but the year break was a godsend). Jill and I would meet and just bolster each other up, letting the other know we were in their corner. We would laugh at the most ridiculous and h

When I was a kid (especially a teenager) there were lots of little things about my mom that bugged, irritated or just plain embarrassed me. I don't like it but it's true. I disliked the way she said Q-pons instead of coupons and her-bs instead of herbs (erbs). There were some other things but those two come to mind right off the bat. It also annoyed that she never said, "I love you". Eventually I would say it to her nasty when we were fighting, using the very thing I wanted to hear from her as a weapon. What can I say? I was a kid, and an angry one at that, so I try offer myself forgiveness and understanding, even while knowing it probably hurt her feelings. Now that I am older there are some things about my kids that are like me that I don't especially like. Just little things that tend to make me feel uncomfortable in my own skin.  The other day when my girl was here, we went out somewhere for a bite to eat. My kids have become veritable mama bears next to me be

We drive along the road and one of us looks at the other and we say, "We live here!", smiling broadly. The other knows...it's kind of like pinching ourselves at the beauty. If I say "home", it usually is referring to our little town by the beach. I miss my city and I miss my friends more than I can say but the scenery, the beauty and the water is a novelty that I hope never wears off. I am adapting. Moments of absolute loneliness are just that...momentary.  Portland is complex. As much as the nation is divided, I can honestly say that Portland is a amplified stereotype of that division. The liberals are LIBERAL and the conservatives are.....Ultra. For many years now I have considered myself liberal but I shrink in comparison, which is fine. That being said, it is a contentious area. I don't like that part of it but, so far, it is nice to be here. We've joined PFLAG which is a nationwide organization committed to building bridges between families and alli

Over 20 years ago I was still living in a box, on a shelf, in a store. Then one day a woman tried me on. She was quick! Well, she had to be, as the pack of kids she had with her were not being all that patient. The oldest one was watching over the others, the 2nd was kind of quiet, the 3rd was taunting his siblings ceaselessly and the little one....she just wanted to try on shoes. That lady took me to the register and, of course, presented a coupon because that is how she rolls. Slipped into a bag, I was on my way home. In those first couple of years I got used  mostly in good weather and only on occasion. I saw the writing on the wall when the kids started complaining on the trail. One by one, they just lost interest, being busy with other things and not wanting to spend as much time with my lady. I got stuck in the back of beyond about 12 or 15 years ago. Each time the closet door opened my hope was raised but, alas, either the tieless Bob's or the golf shoes got pulled out and I

One of the ACA concepts is Emotional Sobriety. The idea that when something occurs that tries to draw me in to turmoil, I can decide how I will respond. I can choose to be thin skinned, indignant, sullen or just plain hurt. Those feelings are quite normal for me. They call that being addicted to excitement or the “inner drug store”, where the default is DRAMA. These last couple of weeks have not been without a few bumps. Families can be complex, to say the least. I have spent some time crossing my arms and stomping my inner child feet WITHOUT allowing that to come to the surface. I comforted my inner girl and reminded her that others are going through hard times and that it's not personal. And, truthfully, even if it was personal, I can still choose to not take part and give up my inner peace.  It's not swallowing emotions or allowing someone to treat me bad. It's more about being a big girl and not allowing another person to needlessly ruin my day, or worse, get me to say

 Who am I?  Oddly enough, in this situation, it is not entirely clear. I may be the poor man in the streets wishing you ill or, perhaps, I am Dickens just conveying a story. More closely I believe I am that dark spector, unengage and uninvested....just doing a task. Hah! What an ego I have. So, when did it happen to you? When did you become Scrooge without the knowledge that you had crossed over? You're probably not aware of it but those of us on the outside, we see it quite clearly. Did it happen as a little boy? Did your father, like poor Scrooge, not love you enough? Ah well, those are not questions that will be answered to me nor are they my business but I tend to be far too curious for my own good, so there you go. The suit you put on that hides him.....it does not serve you well. It can only be worn so long before, eventually, it turns to tatters. Your lovely home and beautiful family, will it ever be enough? Or are you on to the next big thing? Who have you left behind? I as