Strength and Feeling

You think I am weak because I express feeling, because I admit to my anxiousnes. But you hate that part of me because you see it in yourself, because it reminds you of the feelings you try to deny. I am not weak. 

I have have carried inside and pushed out of my body 8, 9, 10 lb babies without an epidural and I've torn parts of my body apart doing it. I have nurtured my children's little bodies solely from my own. I have stuck with it. 

I have stuck with relationships that have damaged me and healed me and I have stuck with people who have worn me thin time and again and who have made me more and stronger. 

I've lost a sister when I was just a kid, been present for days with my dying mother, watched my grandmother have a stroke that put her in nursing care, watched my father have a heart attack, brought saltines and 7-up to my brother after his chemo, and held my husband through the rigors that came with his. 

I've held three of my dogs as they crossed to the next place, and spent many hours hand feeding one despite the tumor in his jaw. I've staunched blood flow from my smallest dog, while trying to reassure my teens that it was probably not as bad as it looked. It wasn't.  

I've drawn blood, euthanized animals, done hydrotherapy on a dog with feet skeletonized by frostbite and neglect, and brought home another which neglect left with an unbending leg.  I've given hundreds of shots, and cleaned up puke and blood and shit and vomit from thousands of animals and more than a handful of children. 

I've butchered my own food. I've washed a family's worth of clothing in our bathtub and pegged it all to dry without the help of a washing machine or dryer. I've cooked on a hibachi grill when our propane ran out. I've eaten tuna and sauerkraut burritos, and I've eaten lettuce and mustard sandwiches because that was the food we had when we couldn't afford to buy more. They aren't as bad as you'd think.

I've borne bitter cold and suffocating heat. I've carted my kids and pets out of our house as a fire bore down on us and I've stayed put when a flood surrounded us. I've pounded the backs of choking children, driven them to the ER, sat by them in the hospital and rocked them upright all night so they could sleep when they were sick. I've picked them up and held their heads when they were drunk and spent decades never getting tipsy myself so that I could drive anyone who needed me to at a moment's notice. 

I've finished a Bachelor's degree while working 3/4 time and taking 3/4 time classes and still been a mom to my three school-aged kids. 

I've faced down a roomful of scientists and veterinarians when no one else would speak up for what was right. And won.

I pay attention to how often I say "I", and just this one time, I allow myself to not limit it.

I've protected my children from animals and people that would have attacked them.  I've spoken up for the underdog, broken up a fight between two homeless men, confronted men over porn and teens over unkind behavior. 

I've learned from some of my mistakes and apologized when I recognized that I was wrong. 

I've sometimes been taken as an easy mark because of my demeanor, but I'm not a victim.

I've welcomed people into my life who have loved me and hated me and appreciated me and resented me. And I've made mistakes with them and sometimes been there for them and other times not. Because even though I've tried to do what's right, over and over, sometimes I've fallen short or had no good answers, and I've never been able to do it all. 

And I've had all kinds of feelings: anxiety, sadness and happiness, joy and grief along the way. And that doesn't make me weak. It makes me human. And if you don't like hearing about my feelings once in a while, learn to deal with it. Because I own my feelings. They are part of me.

Don't forget who you are. Make a list of the things that make you strong; that things that make you YOU. I guarantee that you have done things and survived things that have made you strong. Now move out of the way because I have life to live.