This isn't what I was going to write about...

I had other plans for today's post, and then I read Tim Barney and Tara Tyler Quinn's post at Much Cheaper Than Therapy. A few weeks ago, I added TTQ to my list of heroes. Today reaffirmed why. I'm wrinkling my nose and clearing my throat and blinking away the tears. I commented there that this is the advice I've been looking for all my life. And yet, only now am I finally in a place to recognize, understand, and actually make an effort to implement it. I don't know if there's enough of me. I've mentioned that I'm comfortable being alone with myself, but I'm not sure I know what my core value is. For years, it was family, until I began to realize how incredibly unhealthy my perception is, though I'm working to learn to be healthy. I want to say that money isn't... well, it isn't really... but I do worry about it, but I don't think that counts as the core value. I truly want to say God, but I'm not particularly trustful there either. So, maybe I need to explore what is at the core of me, the deepest part, the heart that makes the final decision, because right now, I don't know. I've been told what it should be, what it ought to be, what it had better be, but that isn't acceptable to me anymore. I want to decide. I want to dig deep and sift through the funny stuff, the ugly stuff, the painful stuff, and joyful stuff. I want to search, for myself, and decide for myself, because ultimately, the only one who is going to be held accountable is me. I've spent a lot of years allowing others to decide for me. I'm still alive, so that's good, but am I really living? So many walls and barriers and blinds have been thrown in my way. What kind of life is that? Is it a life at all?

I don't know why but this seems like the right time to talk about my battle with grace. When I was working with my second counselor I told her, in incredibly vague detail... okay, I skimmed the surface of the sexual abuse that has occurred throughout my life, only enough for her to know that I had been sexually abused. She thought it admirable that I wouldn't give her details. I figured it was bad enough that I had to live with it, why would I inflict it, in any way, on anyone else? Whether or not the details are important, I don't know, and isn't really part of this story. She praised me for making it through.

I nodded, and said, "Yeah, yeah, but I would have liked to have made it through with more grace."

She blinked, and repeated, more slowly. "You made it through."

I looked at her and nodded. "Yes, but I would have liked to have done it with more grace."

"Judy, you made it through!"

"Yes, but I would have liked to have done it with more grace!"

"Repeat after me: I made it through!"

"I made it through--"

"Stop!"

Then I mumbled, "But I would have liked to have done it with more grace."

Maybe I'm still looking for the more grace.