It’s taken me nearly 30 years to accept myself; and even now there are moments of self-doubt and even self-hate. I chastise myself for misspeaking, over analyze eating sweets. But when I let go, let me be who I am–someone a little awkward and crude, sturdy in stature and foul I mouth–I can let others in.
This weekend, my boyfriend was the best man in his cousin’s wedding, so I was in for a weekend of family overload. A sick anxiety had me in tears the Monday before. I kept myself busy with school work and a new tattoo.
Friday Drive to New Jersey. Rehersal Dinner. Saturday Church Wedding. Cocktail Hour. Reception. Sunday Brunch. Drive Home.
All with an extended family I’d never met and a boyfriend otherwise detained by best man duties, I feared the weekend in it’s entirety. I like this guy. A lot.
But by midday Saturday, every unease melted away, and I felt an unearthly peace come about me. I realized it in church, this approval, this energy letting me know that, “these are your people now.” Not in God way but in a Mom way.
I carry her with me all the time, and lean on her presence, but sometimes she’s a little more boisterous.
These are your people Meg, just let go. Let them in. They love you.
Mom, I ache for you every instant, but am so glad to know I’ve found the place where I can be me and be loved. I appreciate you leading me here. Love you always.