I once heard that when dealing with others, you should always ask the following question… “One year from now, will you be happy with how you handled this person and their feelings?” Of all the things to ask in the midst of a relationship, I thought this was the best. Because sometimes emotions run high and hurts run deep and people run away. And there was a time when this question would have been the only thing that mattered to me because other people’s feelings were the only thing that mattered to me. Until recently, when I decided to ask myself another question… “One year from now, will you be happy with how you handled yourself and your own feelings?” I think, for some of us, it can be really easy to get swept away caring for others. I’ve been known to lose pieces of myself to someone else’s feelings. Because I was afraid of how the situation would look if I didn’t. In the battlefield of what mattered, I was afraid of crossing enemy lines…I was afraid of being wounded…I was afraid of not being fought for. I can honestly say that one year from now, I will look back and be happy with how I handled other people…but it’s questionable if I will be happy with how I handled myself. Because somewhere along the way, I forget that my feelings matter too. Somewhere along the line, I take a lot of bullets so no one else has to. But here’s what I’m learning… I believe in relationships. I believe they are worth fighting for…I believe they are worth holding onto…I believe they are worth navigating our deepest fears. Because people are worth it. But I also believe that relationships are not a sword to throw yourself upon. Relationships should never ask you to be a martyr to the cause. Relationships are not a war to be won. Because we are worth more than that. I believe – a year from now – we should be able to answer yes to both of these questions. So, if you are battling to have your feelings be seen or heard or valued...it’s okay to raise the white flag. It’s okay to walk away. Because it’s not called giving up on someone else. It’s called fighting for yourself. ❤️ #bedeeplyrooted #instamood #writer #writersofinstagram
We woke up to the sound of rain falling this morning. Water is trickling off our roofs and puddles are forming in the streets. It's a rare thing for us to experience in February. I love the rain. Everything feels so quiet and still. I always feel as though rain is nature's way of giving me permission to switch gears for a while; to rest a little bit longer...to breathe a little bit deeper...to move a little bit slower. We're coming off a beautiful long weekend here in Ontario to celebrate Family Day. It was filled with lots of sunshine...some of our most favourite people...and copious amounts of baked goods! The kids are back at school today...our family has started their long drive back home...and my coffee is helping me respond to all of this morning's emails! As unusual as it is to see right now...the rain really does seem like the perfect way to begin settling back into our routine! It just goes to show; when in doubt...let nature lead the way... #instamood #rain #nature #writersofinstagram
🚨 deep breaths please 🚨 I once sat around a table with a group of beautiful women for dinner. We had only just met that morning. We talked about our children...our passions...our struggles. And at one point in time, the conversation turned to firearms... What kind of gun do you carry with you, Gen? I've never held a gun in my life, I replied. There was silence. Followed by confusion. We sat there in awkward stillness until the missing link finally began to take shape... I was the only Canadian at the table. This single moment created a dialogue lasting nearly two hours long. A civilized...curious...and compassionate conversation about two very different worlds. There were no angry words. There were no backhanded insults. There were no verbal attacks at the hands of uncertainty. But there was a lot of questions... So, you don't ever carry a gun with you when you leave the house? (No) You don't have any guns in your house? (Absolutely not) And you feel safe without one? (Completely) How do you protect yourself? (I don't need to protect myself...no one is trying to hurt me) We ended the conversation with some empty bottles of wine...some aching hearts...and an understanding that none of us had the answers. When all was said and done, we acknowledged that we would never entirely understand each other's perspective because we had never lived it. And that was okay. But we were all mothers and sisters and daughters and friends. And THAT - we could understand. All of us had a piece of our hearts on the table in that regard. And it makes me wonder... Maybe the answer doesn't lie in our rights or our governments or our illnesses or our parenting. Maybe the answer lies in our humanness. That single thread that we all have in common...the single ache that we all share when lives are lost...the single thing that can never be replaced once it's taken away... Each other.