Keeping My Head Forward

Six years ago, I was in a completely different time and space. I had risen from a difficult divorce and found myself stronger than I ever knew possible. I was full of courage and defiance. I refused to let those wounds break me, it was never an option. Only rise and conquer. And I did. I was confident and bold. I lead my kids through some dark days with sheer determination that they would not be victim to the choices their father and I had made. I was physically fit, running regularly and doing tae kwon do once or twice a week. I was comfortable being me and I loved the life I had created for myself. I had transformed tragedy into true victory.

But these past two years I have found myself in a different frame of mind. I have been broken, completely broken, a brokenness I have never experienced before. And I've spent the last two years wishing I could resurrect that woman from before. I lost her, and I have so desperately wanted to find her. To borrow even just a fraction of that strength and determination with which she so fiercely faced her circumstances. But I can't. She won't come. It's as if there isn't even a spark of the flame that was once a raging fire. Why can't I summon that ferocity and defiance that seemed to just arise naturally before? I have never so desperately wanted to be that woman I once was, I have never so desperately needed to be that woman I once was.

So I have been trying to be that woman again. Trying to find that hidden strength and courage to face adversity and not cower in it's presence. Even if I have to fake it 'til I make it. I want to be back in that space of confidence and peace. But I just haven't been able to draw upon that strength, that courage, not even the anger. It's as if there is nothing left of the woman I once was. And the further I slip away from her, the more lost and alone I feel. It's like looking into the rearview mirror and seeing nothing but darkness.

The other day a memory came up on social media of Henry and Grace biking to the playground after Grace first learned to ride her bike. Henry was leading the way, and he kept looking back to make sure Grace was following him, so every so often he'd veer off the sidewalk and make these crazy sharp turns to correct his path. And Grace, determined as ever, had her head down watching the pavement beneath her and was furiously pedaling trying to keep up with her brother. She kept looking down and would bike in this wobbly path behind Henry. It was like watching two drunken squirrels chase each other down the street. I kept yelling to Henry, "Keep your head forward!" and to Grace, "Keep your head up!" knowing that wherever they were looking is where they would go.

Wherever they were looking is where they would go.

Wherever I am looking is where I will go.

I need to keep my head up and keep looking forward. As much as I admire that woman from the past, I can't ever be that woman again. I can't expect to move forward if I keep looking back and try to be what is now just a memory. I'll never find my way if my head is turned back but my feet are pointed forward, I'll be just another drunken squirrel careening down the road without direction.

I can't be who I once was, I can only be who I am becoming. And maybe that will look similar to other versions of me from the past, or maybe it will be a stronger, wiser, more compassionate version of that woman. Or maybe it will be something entirely different… who knows. I just have to be present in my becoming and have faith that my brightest days are not behind me, and that the best version of me is yet to come.

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Dear Grace

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