Who am I?

I've been trading email with my friend Jodi, a fabulous person from Cincinnati and a fellow Vineyardian. She's had an emotional weekend. Not one of those obviously hard emotional periods -- she didn't lose a loved one, or a pet or a job, etc. It's one of those stealth emotional things, one that makes you feel silly for being upset and yet you're fighting with everything you have to keep your composure. I hate those.

Jodi has an interesting question posted over on her blogsite - Jodi's blog. "Am I who I want to be?". I started to post a reply to her question. But my three sentences turned into three paragraphs and I didn't want to hijack her space so I brought it over here instead.

So... AM I who I want to be? Hardly. And I don't mean I'm not the athletic, stylish, famous or rich person I wish I was. I mean that emotionally, spiritually I am not who I want to be. My inner life doesn't spill over into my daily life in a good way. Up until this past weekend, I would find myself too ashamed to pray as I look back and see that my selfishness, greed and unhappiness have caused me to miss so many opportunities to respond to the world around me rather than obsessing at the world within me. Then I got an email from Jodi about her stress and what was causing it. I shot off an email that sounded so unlike me lately -- it was actually selfless in that I didn't care that she may not like some of what I thought because I really felt like it was something I was being led to say. I didn't stop to think that she may hate me afterward or put the whole response off because my life was total chaos at that moment (it wasn't really chaos, but to my small selfish mind it was). This was the "me" that I wasn't sure existed much anymore.

Since we moved, I've had a hard time finding my identity again. For most of the last time I lived in Maryland I was an art student getting to exercise my creativity everyday, a volunteer YoungLife leader spending time with kids and focusing on them and their lives, and discovering who I was apart from family and friends back in Cincinnati I'd known literally almost all of my life. It was liberating. Even when Rusty and I first got married, we had a great time learning how to be married and being friends with each other and with other couples in the same places in their lives and their faith.

When I became pregnant, the hunt was on for a job and living space in Cincinnati so that I could be close to my family. After Liam was born, I didn't lose the weight I had gained and was very self conscious. Also, looking back, I think I was dealing with post-partum depression though I didn't recognize it at the time (I've had two friends here mention that they noticed it when we visited). My self image plunged to the very lowest it's ever been. What was worse than feeling fat and ugly? Knowing that even if I was fat and ugly, that wasn't what truly mattered. I had prided myself on not caring about that stuff then all of a sudden I couldn't shake it.

When Rusty was offered the job back here, we prayed about it and it was a hard decision to leave my family and our friends but we did it because we believed it was the right thing to do. I still believe that though I did doubt it for a few months last winter and spring. Things just weren't what I thought they'd be. I'd left with just myself, my husband and my expectations for my new life as a mother. I was returning with two children, an older and much wiser relationship with Rusty and a still damaged self image.

Rusty is now back at NASA, coaching a soccer team and spending time with Erik and Alwood and just being glad we're back. We're in a small group with the Hansen's, the Stuarts, Pete and Karen McLaren and Sherry and Bruce (oh crap, I can't remember their last name... actually, I remember it but can't beging to spell it). But personally, in the "just me" department, I'm not doing so great. Right now, I essentially stay home and take care of the boys. Things are looking up a bit because I get to ransack and totally redo another crapped out house. You know I live for tearing stuff up and redoing it. But there is this part of me saying "Isn't there more to me?". I totally believe that raising my kids to be good people is a big job. I'm the one doing it, I know how much energy it takes. But I'm talking about beyond that. Is there seriously not enough room for my kids and some sort of meaningful self expression for me, specifically some sort of expression that would bring in some cold hard cash in the process? (just teasing... sort of). We don't "need" the money as we're surviving without a second income right now. But I'd love to spend time away and feel like my family is benefiting from that time spent away as well.

I have no clue what I'm babbling about. See, Jodi. This is what happens when you make me think. GAH!!!!!