Let Go and Love

Today, I am celebrating. No, it is not my birthday or anniversary; it’s better. For the first time ever, I’m celebrating sticky Popsicle kisses and messy floors covered in Goldfish crumbles. And let’s not forget Barbie’s fabulous hot pink stilettos hiding beneath the couch!

Just in case you’re wondering, I haven’t completely lost it. In fact, I would say I’ve found it. I have found a love of motherhood. It hasn’t always been in my back pocket though, and sometimes I still forget it’s there.

My family has always been my priority. However, around a year ago, instead of feeling gratitude for my life, I was wandering around lost in the dark. I felt like I was surviving day-to-day with a flickering flashlight, stepping on Lego land mines and wading through this thing we call “motherhood.” My mind was spinning, my heart was wobbly and I was desperate to change it all. I was tired. I was so tired and burned out that all I could do was shield my eyes from the brilliance of the sunlight.

Then, one day it all changed. With trembling arms and a shaky heart, I stopped for just a breath. To be honest, I don’t know if technically I stopped or if my body refused to budge anymore. Either way, I was forced to take a look in the mirror. What did I see?  I’m still not sure. Obviously, I had been invaded by a strange woman who dashed from place to place, sighed out loud a lot and then yelled at her kids for not keeping up. To top it off, she was carrying an armful of baggage with a destination to nowhere. Yes, that strange bag lady was me.

With the realization I had been schlepping those bags around came the real question: What was in the them? I had to know, so I dropped them on the floor eager to discover what precious memories I had packed away for safe keeping. However, when I opened them, I didn’t find any memories. What  I discovered was a mom-trifecta of guilt, perfection and worry. Confused, I rummaged through the baggage frantically to find something more.

That’s when I saw it: a crumpled, sparkling promise I had carelessly buried at the bottom of the bag. I picked up the promise and its fiery glow seeped through my fingers and straight into my heart. It was a memory of tiny babies cradled against me and warm heads smelling of lotion and hope. Those memories of my children were so sweet and perfect that I leaned in closer to their warmth. That’s when I heard the whisper of possibility, the promise that I would stand in the sunlight with my eyes wide open again. I could see my life for the miracle that it is. All I needed to do was simply let go of the baggage.

There was a problem, though. I had clutched the baggage for so long that my hands cramped and tingled when I tried letting go. I began reading books and talking to friends, but soon realized the work of letting go was all mine. What made this process more complicated was the knowledge that I didn’t get to go all “Eat, Pray, Love” on my life. No, I would have to bring my family on the journey with me. Truthfully, they didn’t mind digging or getting their hands dirty. To them, it was a new adventure and they were willing to help with the hard work.

A year later, my kids and I are celebrating life instead of surviving it. When I say I brought my family along for the adventure, I mean it. I asked, “What do I want to do?” I then switched jobs and my husband never questioned my decision. I dragged my kids on walks and to yoga, and they followed without too many complaints. I stopped feeling obligated to volunteer for things I didn’t want to do, and no one really missed me. I transformed myself so I could find what matters, and I felt lighter for the first time ever.

How did we get here? I won’t lie; it was sacrifice and tears. It was also laughter and love. We still fight, argue and feel afraid, but we have more tools now. We literally have a new set of rules. We do less “Be careful,” “I’m busy” or “Keep up” and more “I hear you” and “I love you”.

That is what we are celebrating: less worry and more love. I still notice the fine dust of Goldfish crumbles on the floor, but I don’t mind them so much anymore. Instead of picking them up and adding them to my baggage, I call the dog over who heroically makes them disappear. I pat him on the head and he wags his tail, more than happy to help. Then, I stand up and open the blinds, the dust dancing in the sunlight. My son glances up from the picture he’s drawing and points his chubby finger toward the dust floating around us. He tells us a story about a secret world of dust fairies who live in our house. My daughter and I giggle, but my laughing is interrupted by the streaming sunlight making its way through the window. Out of habit, I reach my hands up to shield my eyes, but I stop and reach them toward the velvety sunshine instead.

I remember the crumpled promise I had once discarded and realize it was true. It’s the promise that guilt, perfection and worry cannot live when they are smothered by the sparkle of joy and love. And while sometimes the mom-trifecta still bubbles up, I know it’s okay. I listen for just a minute and then let it go.

Suddenly, I glance back down at my children in disbelief because I realize I’m not the strange bag lady anymore. I am weightless. It is just me and the dust fairies, lingering in the sunlight again.

QUESTION: Are you celebrating love with your family every day?

CHALLENGE: Notice the “baggage” you’re packing. Take time to think about how you can respond differently. Decide how you can turn your “baggage” into opportunities to demonstrate love and acceptance.

Image provided by mfonsecaphotography.com/Graphics by Julie Finlayson.

About Amy Fonseca

Growing up, Amy was certain she would be a veterinarian-journalist-dancer-fighter pilot but fortunately for her, not all dreams come true. Instead, Amy lives in Georgia with her mountain biking, marathon running, photo taking husband and two energetic kids. Besides being a mom, Amy loves working with her "other kids" in her career as a speech-language pathologist. She is also the blogger and storyteller for [email protected], a non-profit that promotes and celebrates female-led innovation. Amy typically spends her free time reading, writing, drinking way too much coffee and making it to the occasional yoga class