Mothers are a Gift

I remember a time as a child when I asked my mother if I was an “oops baby”.  If I had been a surprise.  If I was the baby that so fondly found her, instead of her finding me.  I was not asking out of concern, as if there was anything wrong with it, but more out of curiosity.  More because I am the kind of person that is always curious. Curious about who I am and why I am here.  About why you are here, we are here, life is here. Just a natural born curious soul… It’s how I roll – now and always.

The way in which she answered me was quite unexpected.  My mother is a very kind and loving person.  She is the type of woman one would describe as greatly generous while being entirely selfless.  She radiates positivity and has a softness is her eyes and in her embrace that sets people at ease.  You know that she is someone whom you can be yourself around and that you will not be judged.  She is loving in a very natural and accepting way; evident by her actions more than her words or efforts.

She speaks softly and with care towards others sensitivities.  Her words are rarely abrupt and never harsh; her tone radiating joy and compassion.  She is not serious or heavy in her conversation, but rather keeps her words to those which are soft and light, packed with hope and the promise of something greater.

Because of this, I was surprised by her response to me.  She quickly stopped what she was doing and turned to meet my gaze.  Her smile dropped and she gave me a serious look.  One I had not seen before.  It wasn’t the look of anger or disappointment or regret, but a look that let me know that what she was about to say was something that I needed to hear.

All of a sudden, I felt silly for asking and became grounded in the moment.

Her voice became soft and stern as she told me that I was planned. That I was wanted.  That she and my father knew they wanted another child and had very deliberately tried to have me. As she stood there explaining this to me, I knew how true it was.  It was a brief conversation, but a powerful one.  She took time and care discussing it with me since she knew it was important that I truly hear what she was saying.  And in a way, it was.

motherdaughter

Babies are blessings however they come.  They are.  Whether it is recognized at the time of their birth or years later or never – they are.  We are all gifts and lucky to be here.  Life is a gift, and we are lucky to live it.  We all know this.  We do. Whether we choose to recognize it now or later or never – it is.

The way in which my mother told me that I was wanted and loved and planned helped me realize early on just how lucky I am.  How incredibly amazing life is and how beautifully it can be designed.  There is beauty in the chaos, but there is a profound beauty in the design.  The planner in me loves this.

Just this morning, my mother told me that I have always been a “plotter and a planner”.  We were discussing my next life move and how she hopes I find a career that allows me to “plot and plan” since I love it so much.  How poetic then that I was “plotted and planned” for.  Perhaps it is why I am that way, or perhaps it is why I needed to know if I was planned or not.  But her response was beautiful. It was exactly what I needed to hear.   Exactly what I needed to know.  Exactly what I needed to understand.

Mothers so often have a way of doing that.  Not all women that bear children are true mothers, but for those of us that are lucky enough to be born unto women that are loving mothers, we know what a gift it is.  One that should be honored and cherished and never taken for granted.

I love you, Mom.  Happy Mother’s Day!

Yours truly,

Erin Terese

Farewell, Dear 2012.

As I prepare for a night of music and dancing with some of my favorite people, I feel I must take pause for one final moment of self reflection this year.  There are only hours left in this year and it’s as if the past year is flashing before my eyes.

My heart swells at the amount of joy in my heart, laughter in my breath and gratitude in my soul.  Tears have been brimming in my eyes throughout the day, recalling all of the wonderful people and life lessons that have come and gone.  I have learned so very much this year, but one of the things that I am most grateful to have learned is to remove the idea of “bad” and “good” and simply take what happens as a lesson.  It makes letting go so much easier when you can take your lesson, say thank you, and move forward.  When you can remove ego and simply enjoy your moment rather than feel as if you won by your accomplishments.  Finding the space to live purely within the moment is the greatest gift. One that I will continue to work on moving in to 2013.

farewell 2012

This is going to be an amazing year.  I know this.  I feel this.  I trust this.  Awe and wonder, beautiful and bountiful change, lie around every corner this year.  Awaken the magic!

To you and yours: enjoy this moment and each-other.

Much love,

Erin Terese

The Amazingly Resilient Heart

He: Baby, I need to talk to you tomorrow night.  Can I come over after work?

Me: Whatever it is, just tell me now.

He: You aren’t going to like it.

Me: Okay, now you really need to tell me.  What’s going on?

He:  I don’t know what to do… I slept with this girl, she’s pregnant, and she’s keeping it. I really need you to be my friend right now.

Me: Wait. What? What are you talking about?  Hold on a sec, I need to pull my car over real quick…

Gasp. Sob. Scream.

In the month preceding this conversation, he had been asking me on an almost daily basis to marry him.  Baby, I can have a ring for you next week if you want one.  While I loved him greatly, deeply and what I now understand is an unhealthy amount, I was hesitant.  We had only been back together for a few months and I wanted to make sure that he had in fact changed, and that we were still a good fit.  Something was off though, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. As it turned out, what was “off” about our relationship was that he was unsure of my love for him and had been seeking comfort in between the legs of his neighbor.

With a shaky voice, he told me all about the other girl and the baby on the way.  Choking back tears, he begged for me to understand, to be his friend and to please stay with him.  Like fools we tried to make it work.  For two months we stayed together. I tried to forgive him, he tried to explain and together we discussed how this was going to work.  Would we get married and share custody?  Would we try for full custody?  Day in and day out, I sat by as he went to doctor visits with her and canceled our plans every time the phone rang with another one of her “emergency situations” – she was a bit of a drama queen and trouble maker.

Finally, my heart hit the wall and I could not stand any more pain.  Two months of fighting back tears at work, crying myself to sleep every night and living in a constant state of anxiety, almost broke me.  For the sake of my sanity and realizing that I deserved better, I gathered my strength and walked away.

His son turned four this week.

My biggest fear was that I would become bitter and build a wall around my heart.  What happened was the opposite.  Sure, I was bitter with a wall up for a while (a long while actually), but ultimately my heart healed itself into a bigger and stronger version.  I feel like I have the heart of a champion now.  I swear!  I constantly surprise myself with my ability to be vulnerable, open to love and simultaneously, open to rejection. What could have ruined me and made me a bitter old hag, has actually softened me and made me more compassionate.  I could have forever hid behind a wall or shield around my heart, but I long to feel loved again and have faith that I can heal again if I need.  I am not giving myself kudos here; I am simply stating that the heart is amazingly resilient.  That if you allow it time to heal, and really and truly want to move forward, you will – and you will be even stronger when you do.

Just a little reflection on where I am now versus were I was four years ago at this time: in a drunk puddle of hysterical tears.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese

P.S.  Yes, it got worse before it got better.  Read this.

Lessons in Friendship

Friendship has never been a simple topic for me. In my adolescent years it couldn’t have been more confusing.  As much as I yearned to be an average girl or even an average kid for my age, I never was.  I was spinning within the confines of my mind trying to make sense of the world around me.

Luckily, my parents were wonderful.  Extremely open-minded and kind, they allowed me to experience the world in her best shades.  They never pressured me to be anything but happy. They encouraged me to think independently.  My opinion was nearly always asked. It was always considered and their decision explained.  I rarely felt slighted or undervalued. I felt loved.

Having such a solid family foundation, it was difficult to relate to children who were mostly judgmental, spoke frivolously and were extremely concerned with impressing others.  Eventually I caved and began to fit the mold.  I had grown tired of standing out and not having close friends.  I made the effort to make friends, and it worked.  I listened to how they spoke, how they acted, dressed and I emulated them.  I faked it until it became my reality.  The real me was always there, but with a pretty little facade I had so carefully crafted to cover my true identity.

For most of my preteen, teenage and young adulthood I shied away from sharing my deepest thoughts.  I only allowed a select few to hear the inner ramblings of my untamed soul and shadows of my mind. Everyone else was happy to know the filtered me.  The one presented to them on a platter of trained responses and stifled thoughts.

Eventually I grew tired and began to speak my truth – to gradually show my many shades to the large group of friends I had obtained.  I distanced myself from the ones that were inhibiting my growth and shared myself more with the ones I had always connected more deeply with.  Surprisingly, my thoughts were welcomed with open arms.  Well, not always, but the majority of the time.  Being the most honest and pure form of myself has brought me such great joy and an amazing sense of connectedness to the people with whom I have chosen to share myself with.

I now find friends everywhere I go. What, may you ask, do I consider a friend?  Someone who is honest.  Someone who tells you how they feel.  Offers an ear to bend, a shoulder to lean on and advice when asked.  Someone who helps you because they want to see you succeed, not because they will benefit from it. Someone who accepts you and loves you for your unique and quirky self. I offer this freely now.  Those that appreciate and reciprocate are like family to me.  I have so many amazing friends and the list is growing.  They fill my heart, enrich my soul and hold my hand from miles away.

I am so thankful for the friends in my life – family included.  The honesty we share binds us.  While it is sometimes a struggle and I fear for the response to my honesty, it really is best.  When it comes from a pure place of love and compassion, the receiver will know it.  Being vulnerable is where it’s at!  Vulnerability is not a weakness – it’s a strength.

Thank you to all my compassionate, thoughtful, passionate and vulnerable friends.  You make my days brighter. I love you.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese