Week 3.32: Little Girl

Week 3.32: Little Girl is probably my favorite photo of myself. I'm holding my first dolly, Natalie...which, by the way, was the name of my first three dolls. And, incidentally, it's the name of my younger sister. I love this photo because I can actually remember holding that doll. And I love that my dad took such a natural, carefree photo on 35mm black and white film. I love that no one posed me and it totally didn't matter that my eyes are closed...in fact, it's better that my eyes are closed.

As I'm staring down another birthday this week I can't help but wonder how the Little Girl in this photo turned into the girl who sits here writing this blog. Wife. Stepmom. Sister. Friend. Daughter. Neighbor. Co-worker. Still, just a Little Girl in my heart.

Maybe I'll always be that Little Girl inside. I wonder if that's okay? Does anyone else feel like they should have it better figured out by now? Surely it's a human condition and not just me...right? Right? It has to be.

It's been a tough year. Really. This past year has been a year of breaking old habits and building new ones. It's been a year of sorting and realizing how much baggage I've carried. It's been getting real and raw with family and good friends, even when the conversation was tough. It's been a year of putting myself out there and coming home lonely. It's been a year of putting myself out there and finding a tenuous, shining strand of connection that may or may not turn into something more.

It's been a year of owning the corner of the world I occupy, but not getting territorial about it. It's been a year of finding a new facet in myself and learning to enjoy it, no matter how many comments (good bad or otherwise) come my way. It's been a year of convictions and resultant actions to match. It's been a year of squeezing into uncomfortable and learning to be comfortable right where I am. It's been a year of finding out just how uncertain life is and realizing that the things I know beyond a shadow of a doubt are just that much more certain.

From an objective view I've done a few things in this past year.

I attended parent-teacher conferences while daggers bristled silently. I had my life criticized and reported on by socially inept and mistaken children. I went to court to defend my children, integrity and justice. I toiled diligently and with a passion for the vision only to write a two week notice. I disagreed quite profoundly with family and let them know in no uncertain terms. I had arguments with my husband only to remember after some delay that we play for the same team. I've been a part of a church that I loved, and still love, but know I must leave. I've witnessed social decay that breaks my heart when I consider the overall landscape of where our world is today. I've battled general admonitions and medical charts to discover the underlying issues. I've watched friends and family in hand-to-hand combat with serious illness. I've fought feeling like certain people in my new family will never really accept me as I am. I've felt completely misunderstood and then realized it doesn't really matter if I am.

I've had some really great stuff happen, too.

I finally sent out all of my wedding thank you notes. Not because I was anywhere near on-time, but because I was still grateful after all this time. I was given a gift of a weekend away with my husband in a beautiful mountain town. I had two sets of friends drive up from my hometown just to visit. I've skyped dear faces for hours at a time. I've learned to enjoy Dual Survivor, Flying Wild Alaska and Ice Road Truckers...shows I would never have watched on my own. I watched some lovely sunsets while standing over my kitchen sink. I was a matron-of-honor at a spectacular wedding. I received a job offer. I decorated my house more...and cleaned more; and I'm finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel with a major downsizing. I threw away papers, letters and pictures and felt a new freedom in doing it. I read Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Corrie ten Boom and Jane Austin and LM Montgomery. I read books on prayer and parenting and thankfulness. I set out luminarias on Christmas Eve. I soaked in hot springs and drove home in snow. I did a summer road trip by myself. I kept blogging. I've lived.

Underneath it all, I'm still a Little Girl inside trying to figure things out. And I'm okay with that.

And on a lighter note, at least I'm not living in a van down by the river. :)