This blog post is coming to you from an adorable coffee shop about half a mile from my house. “Exposure therapy” is good, and probably necessary this many years on. So here I am in public, among children and strollers and women wearing some variation of “Mama Bear” sweatshirts.
Today is Mother’s Day, and I considered many different ways my day could go. I did for a second consider going to church… if for no other reason than to satisfy my curiosity. I wanted to see if this church we’ve been attending makes a big deal about this “holiday” like other churches we’ve attended.
If you’re new around here, I have a slew of posts about my infertility journey, from being in the middle of the painful experience itself to processing it after deciding to not become parents in any capacity.
The difference between the therapy and the cave is that the therapy wants me to look back so I can find another way out, not so I can return by the same way I came.
from Learning to Walk in the Dark Barbara Brown Taylor
Having recently moved and subsequently found a new therapist, I’ve been catching her up on, well, my whole life, but mostly the last 7-10 years. In our sessions when we talk about these things, I find myself easily summarizing and synthesizing my experiences in a very factual way. I can tell that generally speaking these griefs are not currently active. My mind isn’t preoccupied with anxiety and worry, and I don’t cry at the drop of a pin.
It’s a great place to be in, and yet I still find myself pensive today. I was very strategic in the activities I’ve chosen for today. I’ve learned the circumstances that make up that line in the sand before I’m triggered. Church on Mother’s Day is one of those venues.
However, I can’t hide from the world for every Mother’s Day from now until I die. There’s growth and healing and divine providence that’s enabled me to get to where I am today:
Exhibit A: At a recent rare lunch with my sisters, nephews, and our cousin + wife, it was joked that I am the next family “matriarch”. But because I’m autistic, I usually take jokes seriously [😆🙃] and so I’ve really been thinking this through -the positions matriarchs hold within their families and society, and the skills needed to be a trusted leader in a family.
Exhibit B: And I guess I’m at the age / position where I’m seen as a “mom” or “aunt” in the workplace as well… a couple of the younger (Gen Z) women low-key dubbed me their “work mom / aunt.” They may never know this, but the pride and belonging that swelled up in my heart!
The matriarchs in my family are physically long gone, but does their legacy live on in me? Despite not bearing children of my own, how can I, with intention, transfer my love, experiences, and values to the younger members of my family, and even outside of my family?
MPM 2.0: mercy unmasked 