Because You Lived ; A Birthday Blog

My Sailor has recently gotten a pronounced grey streak down the middle of his curly dark blond hair.

And I adore it.

He hates it. 

He asked why Ilike it so much and I emphatically replied, "Because we get to grow old together! We're actually everyday living out that promise we made. We get to be here long enough to experience growing old together. Some people never get that." 

A few of my own silvers have grown in now too, and I find myself grinning from ear to ear when I catch a flashing glitter of grey in the mirror. Not that I'm excited to see my body change in the ways that natural humans do as they age, but maybe- just maybe- I am? 

If you've been a blog reader for any extended period of time (ye brave. ye few), you've read the confessions of my childhood. I've previously admitted to periods of deep bone tiredness in my youth, of feeling so much pain for so long that I'd considered leaving the planet on my own terms. I'm not going to beat around the bush. By middle school I had thought out suicide at least 3 different ways. I was heavily bullied for the majority of my youth (thank GOD cyber bullies weren't a thing back then). I could at least escape it at home, and in the end, I decided that I loved my parents a lot. I couldn't bear the weight of sadness my passing would cause them. 

So I hung on. I didn't act on it and endured the air pressing down on me with every cruel insult my peers hurled my way. 

Time passed. Things changed. And the weight of that pain eased by high school.

Then I fell in love and got married. 4 years and a lifetime later, I got divorced. Something I never dreamed a good Christian girl would end up doing. Even if it was for the best in the end, it shattered my world in the moment.

If it wasn't for my family and my dog, I don't know how I would have gotten out of bed. I never dreamed that would happen to me, but it was necessary. 

What got me out of bed? My dog needed me.  If I didn't get up and feed him every day, he would have died in his crate and no one would ever find me. My dog deserved better than that. So, I got up every day and fed and walked him. Then I was able to go to work and punch a time clock and make a living.

And eventually, the pain passed.

Since then, I've head heart breaks, pandemics, deaths in the family, deployments, and all sorts of life altering, often painful events. 

I also fell in love, got married, built a business, transplanted to an entirely different state, and had an amazing kiddo. 

 I never considered using life's escape hatch since.  

I consider my birthday my personal New Years.

It just passed and I turned 46 years old, complete with grey hairs, a few extra pounds, and probably dipping my toe into perimenopause.

And I have one thing to say to that exhausted, devastated soul from my past - 

Thank you. 

Because you held on, I get to have grey hairs and wrinkles. 

Because you made it through those dark days, I got to bring this little light from the shadows.

Because of you, I am strong enough to carry what life throws at me - and wise enough to ask for help along the way. 

Because of you, I've been able to rescue and love 5 dogs through their lives.

Because of you, I've started a business where I get the honor of connecting with humans, supporting them, building humans of all walks of life. 

You held on even when all you could feel were the cold and constant cuts of isolation and depression. When the praise never outweighed the criticism and the pet names weren't as loud as the school yard labels. 

You learned you were 'different' early on, and that felt scary. You spent most of life watching life and friendships from a distance. You stayed when each heartbreak seemed to prove you were unworthy of love.

But because you stayed through all of that, I can embrace and hold space for the differences in others. 

That uphill battle every day to get out bed has led to a space you've filled with peace. 

Thank you for grabbing those little life preservers that floated by. I know sometimes you had to seek them out, but you did it. They felt so simple and stupid at the time, but they were all reasons to hold on, and you took them. You didn't have to. You could have let go and allowed the darkness to swallow us at any point - and no one would have blamed you for it. 

But you took those little moments and little responsibilities to keep you afloat. You wanted to give up, but you didn't. You did what you had to do - even when it seemed utterly futile.

You chose hope. You chose bravery. You learned the true definition of courage - perseverance through the presence of fear and pain. You acted on faith that someday, as long as you were able to stay on this side of dirt, things just might change for the better. And they did.

The bullies grew our thick skin. Our armor is tough. 

The darkness taught us to look for even the smallest pinhole of light and push towards it. 

The haters taught us what NOT to do to others. We are worthy of love and respect.

The years wandering in the fog taught us patience. 

Every grey hair proves I'm still here.

 

I get to get old - because of the choices you made.

So, thank you kid, for choosing to stick around. 

 We Made It.