SO it’s the end of 2014. It’s been kind of an interesting day and as the day comes to a close I feel inspired to create and emote. Ugh, I hate the phrase “as the day comes to a close” it’s so typical. I want to write something but all I can think of are those introspective and reflecting pieces that I’m sure every writer puts out at this time of year. So the question is posed… Do I fall in suit and add my own piece of introspection to the mix? Or do I scowl at the thought of it because everyone else is doing or has done the same thing? Fall in line or create my own line? It’s a question I often ask and constantly jump back and forth between.

I guess in order to find my truth I need to check the motives of each…

What makes me not want to fall in line? Where does the voice of resisting the bandwagon come from? Can I be just like everyone else and still be uniquely my own? I want to set myself apart. I want to create my own line and I want It to have an impact. The thing is, is that I have no idea what will come of these words, this contribution or my efforts. It may fall on deaf ears. It may be just plain shit and really not that great at all? Yet I am reminded of some movie line or some tv show somewhere (kidding I know it’s from Sex and the City) “It’s a contribution. You’re part of a dialogue.” And I like that idea. So, at the risk of sounding just like every other writer out there, these are my thoughts on the past year…

I had a baby. A baby girl in fact. Out of all three of my pregnancies, hers was the MOST challenging. Both physically and mentally. See, when I found out I was pregnant, I had just committed to moving into my own space for massage therapy. This would be the first time I had four walls of my own and I had just mustered the courage to honor the Universal nudge I had been feeling to venture out on my own. And then, Lola shows up – well not until 9 months later – but there she was, a little blue plus sign. Surprise!

Timing.

I traveled abroad for the first time. London, Paris and Barcelona. And while it was incredible, I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit this: I missed the spaciousness of the United States. Yeah yeah, I know we are a country of excess. Our cars are too big, our butts are too big, our egos are too big, and I am the first to shout my frustration with the exaggerated sense of entitlement in this country. However, I missed the space we have here. I loved the pubs and the river and the joy in London. Plus a traditional English Breakfast in a diner with formica tables…holy shit. So good. I loved the grandeur of Paris. Their casual dress is more put together than my Sunday best. There are rules and formalities and a respect for food and culture the likes of which I have never experienced before. I feel like I need to do a deep bow to the French as if I am being presented at court. Dear Paris, it was an honor. And finally, the color of Spain. I just love the flavor, the energy and the vibrancy of Barcelona. There were elements of that same Parisian formality, but dressed in tight jeans, red lipstick and sassy high heels. I swam in the Mediterranean and I felt like I was floating. (Also note that I was 7 months pregnant and Barca was the last leg of our trip. I’m sure I had walked the distance of four marathons by that point in the trip and I’m pretty sure I had pulled a muscle in my belly. It felt good to float.) Yes, Spain, Thank you for letting me unwind in such a free-wielding style.

Spaciousness.

I think of all the life changing experiences I had this year, the most powerful one was the one I had to do on a daily basis, at home, with my partner. Trust. I needed to lean on him this year. A lot. And I had to learn to be ok with that. Ugh, that shit is hard. The deal with that is that I have never had a partner I could count on. I’m the girl with the textbook Daddy issues. I get into toxic relationship after toxic relationship, repeating the same mistakes and expecting things to be different. I’m the one that has become so accustomed to drama and chaos, that I break out in the shakes when things are peaceful and loving. WTF right!? Needless to say, when I was nauseous on a daily basis and couldn’t keep down water or get out of bed during my first trimester, I had to lean and trust. When we were traipsing around Europe and he wanted to carry my bags and take repeated rest stops to refill my water, I had to lean and trust. When I had to slow down working and then completely stop at 37 weeks pregnant because I was contracting most hours of the day, which meant I could no longer contribute financially in any way, I had to lean and trust.

Trust that he wouldn’t resent me. Trust that he wouldn’t leave me. Trust that he wouldn’t wake up one morning and realize what a selfish, incapable and non-weight carrying partner I was – cause that’s of course what my head told me. Most profoundly, I had to trust that he believed I was valuable enough to work extra hard for, pinch some pennies for and cover my bills for a while. Because that’s what it comes down to this year for me. Value. Believing that who I am and what I do has value. Intrinsically. Not because I pay this much toward the cost of living, or because I have a certain credential. Not even because I happened to be carrying a child (which is a magical gift of a task that should always be honored) for most of the year. I am valuable because I am. And that is all.

Thank you to Lola for this. Thank you to my honey for this. Thank you to all parts of 2014 for a big ‘ole lesson in value.

I’ll try to keep it in mind for 2015.

Only Love,

Olivia