free to move about

the seat belt light goes out and the captain’s voice comes through the speakers, “you may now move about the cabin”.  click. click. click. as the passengers unlatch themselves.

in our lives, no one should have such control over us that we feel as though we need their “ok” to move about.  there is respect and then, there is control.  in my past and to this day, i am the same way.  before i make plans, i ask my husband if we/he have anything going on and that i was thinking of doing xyz.  the outcomes of these moments are vastly contrasted between the two.

in the past.  it was more asking permission, one that, typically, was denied.  or, if not completely denied, the guilt tactic was used.  or the selfish tactic, how could i be so selfish to not want to spend time with him, why would i want to do that?  the seat belt light never went off.

now. i am encouraged to be me.  i am encouraged to do things, to go places.  it is not asking permission.  it’s what it is and always has been, respect for my husband.  i am okay with that.  he does the same for me.  we are equals, there is no permission slip that needs to be signed.  we encourage each other to be individuals.  connected at heart.

it took me some time to get used to this new-found freedom.  i never knew what it felt like to be me and married.  i was told i was selfish if i ever put myself first. now, i am told i am selfless and encouraged to be myself.

i tell people how i have the exact opposite of what i had before.  the antithesis.

you should not fear being yourself.  you should not feel as though you need permission to move about.

you are free to move about.


full when empty

things.  the world, our worlds, are full of, things.  things, we think, that if we didn’t have, we couldn’t live without.  memories contained within, values that cannot be placed.

what happens when you find yourself in a moment, where, things, must be chosen and left behind.

as i reflect back now, i feel freer without those things.  but in that moment, i had no idea how i would feel now.

31 years, 2 suitcases.  the years of my life, the span of time i had been acquiring things.  the limit to what i could take on the day i left the only life i had known, behind.

there were things that i left, that in my heart, i knew, i would never see again.  and i will be honest, the pain of loss was there.  they were important to me, they did carry memories and they did have values that could not be assigned.

i packed, what i could, that i thought, fit, need above want.  some clothes, the pearls my grandmother had given to me, my camera (which, at times, fills the role of therapist) and my freedom.

there were pictures, memories, more things than i can list, that i thought, were so very important to me.  and, even in the days and months after i left, those things were missed.  there was talk of how to get my things.  could they be shipped, could someone go and get them for me.

days, weeks, months, years.

i have never seen any of those things i left behind.  there are things that i must not think about, because, to this day, bring sorrow.

i have learned that, along with not having those things, i do not have the memory of where they came from.  a life left behind.

the absence of those items created an emptiness, but not in a sad way that the word is so often associated.  it created a place, a space, that was ready to be filled with new memories.  happiness, love, laughter.

i’m thankful, that, as i look around my life, around my home, everything carries these new memories.  i have found a peace in that.

i realized that things are just things.  that they do hold meaning and they are important.  but, when faced with a choice between things and freedom, i would never change what i chose on that day.

my hands may have been empty, but my heart was full of hope.