Day 365 of The 365 Day Experiment. Write Your Own Happy Ending.

Over the past week, I have finally taken the time to review the past 364 entries for the first time ever. I must admit, I waited until I had a chunk of time alone to do so…this wasn’t something I was looking forward to doing with my daughters lurking nearby.

There were no major surprises in store for me.  I appeared to have written from my heart, and stayed true to my core.  As I revisited the goal of Day 1, I am pleased that I never veered off the path of making this my own personal mission to see if I could both set a goal and stick to it (despite a brief hiatus last summer) and see if I could really, truly open myself up.  I believe I accomplished both.  

Though this Experiment was shared with whoever chose to read it, the goal was never to write about what I thought would generate the most interest, support or fans.  It was about introspection and being bold enough to share that outward.  And then to live with the consequences.  For a formally very private person, I cannot begin to explain how incredibly challenging that has been over the past year. As much as I could pretend I was writing just for myself, I could not escape the knowledge that people were reading my words. Some nights I would click “post” and want to hide under my covers. Those are the nights I know I was being the most truthful.

Here is what I learned about myself from what I wrote as I allowed myself to reflect back…which is an indulgence I rarely do.

I am a fiercely devoted mother.  I love my daughters, and am doing my best to raise them to be happy, healthy, independent young women.  I’m far from perfect, but I think I’m actually pretty good at this.  It’s probably because I work hard at it, and my love for them is genuine.  It is privilege to be their mom.

I love my career.  I don’t have a job; I have a calling.  I have had the good fortune to have had some success, and built a nice little reputation in my field.  What really matters to me, however, is when I feel like I have made an impact.  When I think back to all the thousands of people I have helped to create jobs for.  Or the people I have mentored who are now mentoring others.  Or the companies who I have committed countless hours to, where the people have gathered and said, “I love working here.”  Those are the things that have allowed me to live my insane lifestyle for over two decades.

I am really passionate.  I had no idea how much I use this word.  I suppose it is what defines me.  If I elect to do something meaningful, I go “all in.”  It becomes  passion.  If I cannot fully embrace it - if I try to half-ass it - I am extremely unbalanced and disoriented.  I suppose that makes me a bit of an extremist, for better or worse.

I needed an outlet.  Clearly, I have been bottling a lot of stuff up for an awfully long time.  And while I have shared some exceptionally private things, I still didn’t scratch the surface.  I have however, shared them in my private life over the course of the last year…mostly the last month.  I needed to.  While I never would have thought writing would be my vehicle to healing - let alone public writing - I am exceptionally grateful that I did.  I am at peace with my past.

I need people more than I realized.  I have spent so long trying to be independent; I forgot how important it is to need other people.  While I love to help others, the other day my good friend said to me, “It’s really hard to help you.”  She is right.  I tell myself I don’t need it, but I do.  While I trend introvert, I still love the good company of my friends.  I adore the time with my daughters.  I relish the time collaborating with my co-workers.  I know the missing piece is “my person.”  It’s hard to admit that’s what you want and need, when you had it, and then lost it.  It’s scarier to actually attempt to go after it when you might find it, and it might reject you.  Again.

I am fearless. I think I knew this about myself, but this is the one thing that often pointed out to me throughout the year by people who cared to read my words.  ”I can’t believe you wrote that…”  ”I can’t believe you did that…” If you can’t believe it, then you probably don’t know me very well. I truly believe I have one life, and it’s my obligation to myself to max it out.  

I am grateful. I have a great life. Of course it has been a challenging year. I got divorced, I sold my home, and I got really sick back in the fall. You know what? Who cares? I choose to focus on the glass half full.

In the scheme of life, I had an amazing year. I took my daughters to Italy to explore my favorite places. I shared time with some extraordinary people. I tried new things and pushed myself in ways that helped me continue learning. I accomplished a few big goals, including the completion of this Experiment. I am truly blessed.

To answer a few questions I’ve been getting over the last week…

No, there is no book deal coming out of this. I have no interest in attempting to turn this into something it was never intended to be. If this year has proven anything to me, it’s that I am authentic. What you see is what you get with me. I might not be for everyone, and I am okay with that. At my core, I know I’m a good person who doesn’t need to be adored by the masses.  I just need to be loved by a few key people. That is all.  If I have that, the rest will take care of itself.

A huge thank you, to everyone who has taken a small piece of your day to read along and follow this with me. Your words of wisdom and support has fueled me. And for those who has been so incredibly kind to suggest I have motivated you in some way, I cannot tell you of a greater compliment you could give me.

So for now, this Experiment comes to an end. I will not disappear though. I didn’t spend a year investing my time writing only to cast that time aside now.

I have some new goals, and they are loftier than this meager 365 days. If I can commit to writing every day, I’m fairly certain I can accomplish just about anything I take on.  I don’t have enough to say to write daily again; I know that is out.  Do I have another blog in me?  Perhaps.  As well as a fiction book, a charity, and hopefully another start up or three. 

This last day ironically falls on the day I leave for my first vacation without my kids since they were born. I made these plans to go away after one dinner with a friend I hadn’t seen in thirteen years. It was a really good dinner. 365 days ago, I never would have done this. I was still broken, still unsure about the direction I wanted my life to take. No longer. I did my stint through the dark days and came through beaming. I am in a good place. Scratch that…I’m in great place. 

And one last thing I learned along this journey.  Every time someone approached me and shared with me that they read my work, I asked them why. The audience is broad and diverse. There are just as many men as women.  The age range that I know about spans over a 50+ year gap.  How could that much diversity resonate?  

My theory?  There is little difference between me and you.

You don’t have to be a single mom in your forties to connect with me.  You just have to a human being in search of your place in the world.  How I live or the choices I make are irrelevant to you.  I think people connected because I just kept moving forward, dusting myself off, and was honest about it.  I kept it real, and everyone can see a piece of themselves in that.   It’s either that or a bunch of serious voyeurs love reading about one woman’s struggles. 

I’m just an ordinary girl, living out her version of an extraordinary life.  I have no idea what the future holds for me, and I am okay with that…or mostly okay with that.   I have people that I love in my life, a career that fuels me, and I do a decent job of attempting to max out every day I have.  What else could I possibly want? You have no idea…

Hey, it’s my story.  I’ll write my own happy ending.  Go write your own. 

Day 364 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Old Girl Has Still Got It.

I caused an accident today.

Not in my car, and no one was hurt. The only causality was some spilled coffee. The benefit was an ego boost I’ll feed off of for a long time to come.

I had to stop into Registry of Motor Vehicles this morning, which is fortunately about a half mile from my office. I had headed out early to stand in line, a full hour before the doors opened knowing there would be a wait.

I entered out into the morning sun, embracing the opportunity to take advantage of the walk outside. I never get time like this during the day, and I wanted to maximize it. I am certain there was a spring in my step.

This morning I walked with purpose. Scratch that. I am certain I probably strutted with purpose. I had the gait of a girl who is in the brink of a accomplishing a year long goal. I said goodbye to my home with my daughters last night. I finished packing for my first childless vacation ever, and I leave tomorrow. I strutted with the gait of a woman who is at peace saying goodbye to the old, and hello to new.

I strutted with the gait of a girl whose ass looks great in the dress she chose to wear today.

Most days I don’t pay attention to how I look or feel after my morning prep, until I catch a glance at myself in a bathroom mirror mid-afternoon and think, “Yikes…you need some sleep. Or some concealer. Or a brush…Or all of the above.” Today, I feel different.

I think because I feel so content on the inside, it shows on the outside. It doesn’t matter your size or how many wrinkles you might have. Happiness looks good on anyone.

I am certain that must be what the two guys noticed when they bumped into each other as they crossed Washington Street. One in a suit, the other in construction clothes, the latter was too busy making an old style cat call to realize he was bumping into the former before he knocked into him with his oversize iced coffee. Thankfully, all three of us laughed and I kept walking. I don’t share this story because I am am deluded to think I still have the beauty of my youth. I share because I know I’m beaming today and it’s radiating out of me. A year ago, the only accidents I was likely to cause were fender benders caused by crying too much while driving.  

What a difference a year makes.

Day 363 of The 365 Day Experiment. What Do I, Amuse You?

Last night, sitting down to write was mentally taxing.  I finished posting and found myself exhausted.  There was a pit in my stomach and I wanted to crawl into bed.  Instead, I stayed up into the wee hours of the night chatting with someone who made me feel instantly better.  Sometimes, when I’m not feeling my best, it’s as simple as making me laugh to get me back on track. 

I love to laugh.  I love to make people laugh, and I love when people make me laugh.  Fortunately, I live with, work with and hang with a gaggle full of funny.

Tonight is the last night my girls are sleeping in our house.  My oldest is in tears.  My youngest is unfazed.  I have to try and relate to each.  To address the needs of each tonight, I started with something sentimental, and ended with funny.  I always defer to funny.

Life is so serious.  I often avoid turning on the news at night not because I don’t want to an informed world citizen.  It’s because the majority of it is really sad.  I don’t need any more negative in my life.  I need positive.  And I need funny.  

When it’s not readily available, I look for ways to create it.  Last night, we ran our monthly lottery in our Boston office to win access to a parking pass for a month.  Rather than just pull a name out of a hat and email out the winner, I taped Gianna as she selected the name.  And she was funny in those fourteen seconds.  It was a quick, simple way to make the mundane just a little more memorable.  

We do this with the made up holiday we celebrate in May honoring a piece of cloth.  With the drawing game we created that we play after dinner, and with the singing chicken birthday card my daughter and my father sent back and forth to each other for years.  We find ways to do it on a daily basis.  

Life can get so heavy if you choose to focus on that lens.   I have had plenty of heavy in my life.  I like to swing the balance in the other direction with ridiculousness.  It is what helps me cope.  It is what helps me manage through the difficult times.  Mostly, however, it is what makes life more enjoyable to me.  Why choose to cry when you can choose laughter instead?

Today we had a little incident in our office that required that I step up and play “HR Lady.”  Those who know me well know I recoil when asked to do this.  So rather than play hardass and approach it from a policy standpoint, I did it the only way I am comfortable with.  I crafted the message to be shared as direct and to the point veiled in a whole lot of humor.  Somehow this style works in the environments I choose to work.  I would likely be fired for it if I worked in a publicly traded Fortune 500 company.  I’m ok with that.  I play to my strengths.

I am exceptionally grateful that I have surrounded myself with people who make me laugh.  From the guy on my team who makes it his mission every morning to crack me up, to my daughter who I am convinced is Chris Rock trapped in an 11 year old girl’s body,  to my ability to laugh at myself on a daily basis…I need this.  

Clowns may scare the s*it out of me, but I love the real life ones in my life. ESPECIALLY during the tough days.  It’s the best healing there is. 

Day 362 of The 365 Day Experiment. When Politics Gets Personal.

The Supreme Court just ruled that certain for-profit companies are not required to pay for specific types of contraceptives for their employees.  This pisses me off.

When I went to university in DC, I lived just steps from the White House.  I paid active attention to the politics of the day, because it was impossible to avoid it.  The more I tuned in, the more I felt compelled to tune out by the time graduation rolled around.  I love this country and the freedoms it offers.  However,  the more insight I got into “how the sausage is made,” the more I wanted to pull away from it.  For example, I remember being particularly concerned when William Rehnquist was confirmed as Chief Justice the year I arrived at school, as both he as justice Scalia both held radical positions against legal abortion, affirmative action and other basic women’s rights.  This made me take notice.

I became disillusioned to our entire political system, and disengaged altogether by the time graduation rolled around.  It wasn’t until Bill Clinton came into his presidency that I felt like I wanted to pay attention again.  While no one is perfect, I was impressed with his combination of intellect and ability to connect with people.  As a president he was a fantastic combination of stellar leadership skills mixed with a dose of a real person.  He was flawed, and he made mistakes.  He was human. 

I blissfully lived in the ignorance of youth, picking and choosing to spend more time thinking about Apartheid in South Africa than I did worrying about homelessness in my own backyard.  There is so much that needs to be changed in world, I reasoned, that I can hardly wrap my head around all of it.  My approach was to understand a few things I was truly interested and passionate about, rather than just take on an overall political mindset. I am socially liberal.  I am fiscally conservative.  I vote for the person, not the party.  I seek to educate myself, and then make the best possible decision when I vote.  And then I get out of the way.  

There was a time though, when the I did pay careful attention.  When the government decides what I can do with my body, you’re damn right I’m paying attention.  And one day in 2004, it became personal. 

I needed help getting pregnant.  I needed help staying pregnant.  I needed help delivering two premature babies.  After my second, I was advised due to my health issues related to this that I would put my own health in jeopardy should I ever elect to carry another baby.  No worries, I thought.  We’re blessed with two amazing children.  We’re done.

And then the unthinkable happened.  

I’ll never understand how it happened, but the decision to end that pregnancy might be the single hardest choice I’ve ever made in my life.  I don’t care what your politics are.  I could either put my life at risk, thus potentially allowing my children to grow up motherless, or I could make the gut-wreching decision to say goodbye to another potential pea in my pod.  I cannot put into words how traumatic this was.  Ten years later, it is just as painful to revisit. 

The point is, I had a choice to make.  A choice.  It might not be the choice someone else would make - that YOU would make - but it’s a choice.  It was hard enough to walk into the building assaulted by protesters damning me for that choice. If the government had overturned Roe vs. Wade and I had no choice to make,  I might be dead.  Some people might think that is the price you pay.  

This is the single most personal thing I have ever written, but it is part of my story.  Only a handful of people know this, because these are the choices we make in life that you don’t share.  I am putting myself at risk of having political or religious friends shun me for my choice.  I hope they do not, but that will be their choice.  

I don’t ever want to live in a world where a government takes away my right to make choices that are best for my family and I.  Perhaps last week’s interaction with my new Saudi friend hit me harder than I realized. I cannot be quieted when others don’t have the same opportunities I do.  And perhaps I invest in my relationship with my daughters so much because I appreciate what I gave up to be able to live this live with them.  

Forget politics.  We make choices in life, and we must live with the consequences.  As painful as my decision was, I am grateful every single day for how my life with my girls has turned out.  

Day 361 of The 365 Day Experiment. Breaking Bad Habits.

I sat at lunch today with my daughters, each of us sketching on the back of our paper menus.  It is a habit we all have at this restaurant, a neighborhood favorite where the kids are still given crayons though they are too old.  We chat and draw while we wait for our food, taking time to show each other our creations before the food arrives.

When bowls of pasta showed up, we began to chat about other habits we have.  We each listed ones we are conscious of, and ones we recognize in each other.  The girls had no problem sharing their own bad or quirky habits; but when your sister points them out, defensiveness rises quickly to the surface.  I attempted to diffuse that immediately.  We all have habits; good and bad, I pointed out to them.  Whether we are conscious of them is what I want you to pay attention to in this conversation.

Fortunately, there were not a lot of surprises.  These are pretty tuned in kids, and we don’t let each other get away with much.  We all have bizarre  number games we play as habit, which each of us has done for years.  Mine has to do with making wishes on a digital clock anytime I see repetitive numbers (2:22, 3:33, 10:10, etc.)  One of them has a habit around eating only an even number of M&Ms.  It’s the odd stuff you create for yourself that makes you uniquely you.

The big difference between my daughters and myself is that when I am cognizant that I have developed a habit, I typically try to break it.  Stupid routines, that have no impact on anyone, but they trouble me when I realize I have fallen into a pattern.  I recently determined I had been heading to Dunkin’ Donuts every morning before settling into work…so I stopped going.  Now I make coffee at the office, but I am intentionally varying the floors I am making it on just to keep things fresh.  It’s a ridiculous example, but it became important to me.  

As I tried to explain this to them, I tried to figure out why I do this.  I dumbed it down to not being reliant on anything.  I think I try to live like an anti-addict.  If I don’t become attached to any one thing, than its not a big deal if it goes away.  I travel light in that sense, with limited baggage.

Or do I?  Do I do this because I make such big bets in other places in my life?  Maybe it’s because I commit whole heartedly in places I feel like it really matters.  Relationships.  Children.  Career.  Friendship.  Family.  Perhaps I feel like I put so much energy in here, these are the “habits” not worth breaking.  And I have suffered loss in each of these…and it sucks.  So perhaps I’ve tried to minimize the feelings of loss by not growing dependent on anything else - even if it’s small.  

Wow.  How’s that for some self-analysis?  And now I’m growing clearer on why I have built up such a wall of Teflon around myself.  In writing this, it just became clearer to me that I shun help not because I believe I have something to prove or I want to be completely independent.  It’s because I have leaned on others before…and they disappeared.  So to go it alone may be hard, but it’s emotionally easier than being let down again. 

This is one habit I have to break.  What the hell am I trying to prove to myself by switching up where I get my coffee?  Where it matters most is where I connect with people and the depth of those relationships.  I know I am fully capable of giving.  I just now have to be courageous enough to receive. 

Perhaps now that I get it, I will be able to break it.  I haven’t met one habit yet I can’t crush.

Day 360 of The 365 Day Experiment. Drama Sucks.

Recently I pointed out to a friend that he appeared to play the role of “The Rock” very easily.  I don’t mean as in the gigantic former wrestler-turned-actor.  I mean it in terms of being the voice of reason when things swirl around him.  It’s interesting to witness that in someone else.  In fact, it’s notable. 

And I appreciate it.  Perhaps it’s my gender, perhaps it’s the role I play at work…perhaps there are many reasons it stands out to me.  I tend to always be near the fringes of drama.  I don’t do well with this.  I repel it enough that when my daughters were old enough to start emoting, we began to discuss the rules of engagement around drama in our household.  It’s just not tolerated.  We talk things out, or we take time away to work things through before we then talk them out.  Temper tantrums, bitchiness, and talking about each other or others in a negative way is not accepted.  Surviving the teenage years with girls is going to be challenging enough…I am trying to create an environment to aid us in navigating this as sanely as I can.

I think I have taken note of others who share this desire to cut through the drama and get to the right answer because it appears to be rare.  Or maybe it is not rare, and I’m just not surrounded by the right people.  Do people enjoy drama because it gives them something to talk about?  Do they think it makes them more interesting?  Is it more comfortable to live in the drama cause you know what to expect rather than working through it  and not knowing what exists once you get to the other side?

Life is filled with conflict, and conflict is dramatic. It’s part of the human condition.  In some ways, perhaps it is what makes us interesting. Bravo has made an entire must-watch channel based on people’s desire to watch other people’s “reality” drama; much of it amped-up I am certain.  I believe it’s the way we handle that conflict, however, that ultimately makes us people worth knowing.  We spend so much time looking in the past, dwelling on things that are over, or beyond our control.  Why bother?  I prefer to channel my energy on trying to move things forward.  I try to be a person I would want to admire.  Not a person I’d make fun of if I were watching her on tv.

It’s hard to do this, no doubt.  Often, it’s hard not to get sucked into the drama when it is swirling around you.  And yet, if you choose to be the “rock,” or be the centering force in the midst of that chaos, it is amazing how it can diffuse almost immediately.  That is, however, a choice we each make. Do you choose to keep things moving forward, or keep the drama swirling in your life?

I’m grateful I have a few people in my life who share this same “no drama” philosophy.  It makes conversations simpler.  There is no guessing.  There is no bullshit.  There is, thankfully, no drama. 

I’ll keep supporting my daughter’s creative efforts on the stage though…this is one place I love to see drama really play out.  

Day 359 of The 365 Day Experiment. Dream Big.

I said goodbye today to a cherished friend and colleague.  He’s left my team to venture out on his own.  It’s a bold move when one has a family, a mortgage, and a safety net.  And yet, I understand his pull.  When something calls you, to avoid filling that need leaves you with a sinking “What if?” that can really eat away at you.  

Ignoring the draw to following your dreams can lead to resentment.  Or It can lead to immense feelings of regret.  I find those who aren’t bold enough to take the risk to follow their dream will convince themselves it wasn’t worth dreaming about in the first place.  I’m too busy.  It’s too unrealistic.  It’s too risky. It’s too {insert your own favorite.}

We humans are masters of excuses. So many of us will brush our dreams aside, inventing a multitude of reasons why our dreams can’t be realized.  There is truly only one real reason why we don’t.  It’s because we don’t value them.

If we don’t prioritize our dream, no matter what it is, it becomes ultimately irrelevant.  You can say, “I want to start my own business,” or “I want to find true love” or “I want to learn a new programming language”…it doesn’t matter what your dream is.  What matters is that if it is important to you, you need to value it, and make it a priority in your life.

Make it known to others.  Ask for support.  Prioritize it into your life.  The more attention, focus and development you give to it, the better your chances of achievement.  

We all have dreams.  It makes me sad when I speak to people who have thrown up walls around theirs, and have given up hope before they ever begin.  Enough of that.  Turn that frustration into positive energy to take that one step forward.  That source of resentment or sadness could quickly turn to excitement and passion if you begin to see small steps of progress.

What’s the worst that can happen if you fail?  Answer that, plan for it, and then get busy plotting your success.  You’ve got one life…dream big.  Then live it out even bigger.