It took me a few decades to stomach that question. I'm finally there. Finally, I throw two fingers up to measuring myself against others and finally I say I am more than good enough. That doesn't mean I feel good about my achievements (they are small) but that I no longer feel thoroughly inadequate for not having achieved things in the league of others' achievements. Perhaps I now only measure myself with my own measuring stick. What freedom!
I had to be a solo parent to get here. I had to stand alone to let my world start beating to my rhythm. In the early years I really didn't know if I'd make it. I took solace in the bottom of a bottle and couldn't rule out running to the edge of the world and hurling myself into the abyss. But I also, in a moment of desperation, threw my trust into a stranger. Someone I had never met. A physical stranger I knew only through an online twins club. We shared the experience (read terror) of raising twins.
She possibly saved my life. Her love, strength, patience and commitment saw her sending me messages throughout my days. They often started with "hello beautiful" and often ended with "remember I love you", they always said "I'm here" and for a big amount of time said "take your pills now". She said she would remember to take her high blood pressure pills if I remembered to take my "freakpills" (that is what I named them in my surly disdain for them). She made me feel I might not be the freak I believed I was.
Her acceptance was pivotal in me finding out that there was in fact a path for me. That I didn't have to stumble along a cliff edge on stilts. I found it from a stranger. My message today is that if you believe yourself to be the 'me' that I was then, trust someone. If you think you don't have a someone, I'll be your someone. And then one day, you will be a someone to someone. Pass it on. Keep it going. If life is a river filled with slippery stepping stones and we all hold hands, we will stumble and we will get wet feet but none of us will be left behind. Here is my hand.
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member.