When I was single, people often tried to encourage me by saying, “Just keep waiting on God, He will bring about the right person when you’re ready.” It never really brought me comfort like the other party intended. I recently realized why. It’s only half-true.
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“Good sex = good marriage.” That’s a commonly accepted line of thinking in our culture. You see it in movies all the time. Recently, Tim and I watched “Hope Springs” with Meryl Streep. The general plot line went like this: A couple sits in a counselor’s office on opposite ends of the couch and admit they can’t remember the last time they had sex. Over the course of the movie they reconcile their relationship and at the end, they fall into bed in ecstasy.
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How do you face disappointment? When a relationship falls apart, or a friend lets you down, or something you were looking forward to (like getting pregnant or clinching the next promotion) doesn’t happen, how do you respond? I don’t handle it very well. My instinct is to run from the pain, to numb myself with distractions and to avoid that awful feeling at all cost. It’s too uncomfortable, unpleasant and painful for my liking. So I scroll through my Facebook feed for the tenth time in four minutes. I lose myself in a certain online game of matching coloured candies. I text my friends to see if anyone’s around to chat. I search for something, anything, to soothe the aching hole in my soul where my dream used to be. Then I come to my senses and I sit down to blog.
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[This is a preview of a guest post I wrote for SheLoves Magazine]
“Why do you keep thinking you don’t have enough energy?” my husband asked me one night. “You made it through today. You made it through this year of being a new mom. Why do you insist that you’re in deficit?”
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One of the best gifts of becoming a mother is that I have the privilege of watching the process of human development unfold before my eyes. As I’ve observed Allie, I’ve come to (re)learn some basic truths about what it means to be human. As an adult, I find it easy to lose sight of the fundamental qualities of my humanness so I’m grateful that my baby, in her unfiltered and uninhibited way, shows me and reminds me of these things.
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When Tim proposed to me, he had no idea he was signing up to live with a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). I didn’t even know I was an HSP. We were both aware that I was more sensitive than your average person. I was sensitive emotionally, yes. But I was also sensitive to my physical surroundings. Certain places would be too loud, or too bright. Most perfumes and colognes would give me headaches. I would notice the slightest changes in my environment.
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I have a friend. I haven’t seen her for a while now. She tends to come and go as she pleases. Every so often, she will drop in, stay a while and leave when she thinks she’s kept me company for long enough. Whenever she’s around, my days need to be re-organized. Hers is a quiet sort of demanding.
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