What I Might Be...

"When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be." ~Lao Tsu

There is a positive side to being crushed and broken.  When your guts are exposed for all of the world to see, you are finally able to start seeing yourself for who you really are. Or aren't in my case.

You see - I was Superwoman.  

I could leap tall buildings with a single bound and traverse freeways at high speeds to get to a soccer game without getting a ticket or losing a kid.  I ran from one end of town to another because I was an awesome mom.  I stayed up until 4 a.m. to make cupcakes so everyone would know what a perfect family we had.

I was the fixer.  

I was the one to make everything better because I was so good at it.  I was the strong one.  I could face giants with just my slingshot and battle evil Principals to advocate for my children.  I was the loyal one.  I stuck it out even though the marriage had torn me to shreds and daily stole a little bit more of my soul.  Because it was the right thing to do.

I was the karate kid.

I earned my blackbelt in my early 40's.  I was a ultra-marathon athlete (5k actually) climbing over foreboding obstacles and crawling through the mud.  I was the biggest loser who lost 80 pounds in 6 months.  I worked out not to get in shape, but because I didn't want to be the fat bride in the wedding pictures when that finally happened.  I spend a small fortune on clothes and shoes and jewelry so I can look great for a guy because I am so afraid that he is going to see me for who I really am - a 42-year-old divorced mom with a few more stretch marks than she would like vegging in shorts and a tank top.  

I am a fraud.

I am not really any of those things - strong, confident, together, Superwoman, fixed.  What I am is a scared little girl that has no real idea how to make it in this world.  I am fighting by instinct alone, having grown up without any guidelines as to what a normal family is.  I don't know how to be a great mom while working 50 hours a week.  I am afraid to write what is really on my heart because I am so scared I am going to hurt someone else's feelings - totally disregarding my own.

I am afraid.

I am still that scared little girl in St. Jerome's playground sitting on the curb afraid to talk to anyone because I am afraid that no one will really like me when they see who I really am.  I am a frazzled, wannabe soccer mom who desperately wants a normal family with a dad and mom and a white picket fence, not a two bedroom apartment in the middle of 1300 other apartments that is a mess because today we had to run to karate, cub scouts, two soccer games on the other end of town, the grocery store, Wendy's drive -in, parent teacher conferences and then back to Walgreen's because the girls have a project due tomorrow and it's already way past their bedtime.  So I'll drive across town to meet you not because I'm so cool but because after all of that, I didn't have time to wash the dishes or make my bed.  

I am broken.

But now, being broken, all the pieces are laid out before me now like a shattered mirror.  I can see every imperfection reflecting back at me.  I can still see the good stuff too but I'm able to put them in perspective now.  I know all of the pieces are going to be put back together as I heal.  It won't be perfect.  It might not even be pretty.  Not all the pieces will fit just right, so there may be some extra putty holding it there.  But I know God will be that putty and if I just give in a be who I am instead of who I want everyone to think I am, it will be ok.  I will be ok.  And now I get to start seeing just who I might be...