Story by Brynn Burger
Have you ever had one of those days? You know the ones.
Nothing earth shattering happens, but the few small pieces of bad news that may have otherwise just bummed you out, instead makes you painfully aware that you’ve apparently been stuffing your feelings for way longer than you thought…
And then… Oh no… Here it comes… The dam breaks.
Whether into a towel in the bathroom floor, a pillow in your bed rolled to the farthest corner of your mattress, or in your car in the Target parking lot, your body gives way and you cry alllllll the tears. All of them. At once.
Big. Ugly. Fat tears that represent pain and hurt and anger and rage and resentment and frustration and all the emotions that you refused to let yourself feel for the past days, weeks, maybe months.
Friend, can I let you in on something? Lean in close. We’ve all been there. Actually, let’s be real. I’m here. Right now.
Like, I’m the dumpster fire of emotions right now in this exact moment, blubbering while my kids dump eleventy thousand Legos all over their bedroom carpet and I try to breathe and get my life together.
But here’s the thing I’m learning as I grow up and slowly and reluctantly accept that I’m a real, live grown up: None of us actually have our lives together. Ze-ro. Nonesies.
Some moms make this whole adulting thing look easier because they or their husbands bring home a fat check that softens the blow or they know how to apply the colored pencils to the appropriate places on their adult faces and I just now figured out that those were makeup and not for craft time…but we are all in this crazy ride together.
None of us REALLY know what our health insurance covers or what our car deductible is, or how in the free world to get dings off of our credit score because those are all things reserved for actual grown ups and we are just overgrown 17 year olds confused about why our butts sag now and a hospital actually allowed us to leave with babies with the expectation that we’d keep them alive!
So, mama, break down. Go ahead. Cry. It. Out. Because life is really freaking hard. Marriage, and jobs, and kids, and families, and money, and all of the insanity that falls inside the in between. It is too much sometimes and that’s OKAY.
We just need to know that we aren’t in the emotional dumpster alone. We need to remember to check on each other–even our strong friends–and be willing to help one another up out of the pit. We can’t stay there long.
Sure, go there. Cry all the tears. Eat some chocolate and drink wine straight out of the box, but don’t set up shop. We don’t live in this space, friends.
We are just normal mamas in the throes of middle-age, somewhere between summer vacation and the dregs of back to school shopping, sipping your frap while navigating your red cart through isles of folders and glue sticks.
We’ll make it through. And the next part, though riddled with hot flashes, will also have vacations and girls trips, retirement and winters somewhere it doesn’t drop below 70… So it’s all good, mama. We’ve got this!
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