I Just Want Space: Why Kate Said Yes
Sarah’s Note: I am SO excited about the next three blog posts because each entry will feature one member of the insanely talented team who is making it possible for me to amplify the message of The Beautifull Project. First up is Kate, my badass blogger/PR guru/business genius sidekick who is single-handedly responsible for inviting me to realize that this big, beautifull space needed a big, beautifull team. She’s a busy woman with a life full of good things, so when I asked her to join me, I wasn’t sure where she’d land.
She landed on YES … a big, enthusiastic, all-the-way-in YES… and on today’s blog, she shares why:
In the midst of full-time-plus bossing at my “real job,” momming two kids (plus cystic fibrosis) along with you know, being a wife to the farmer every now and then, where in heaven’s name would I find time to write about the fact that I cannot seem to make nice with the skin I’m in?
Lady, this mess of weeds I’ve got up in here with office/mom/wife life is freaking resilient. You know, they take every bit of sunlight, every drip of water and yet … these roots. Roots that stretch and ground when my worn, unmanicured hands hit the keyboard to a rhythm I couldn’t slow if I wanted … and if I’m being honest, I don’t.
I didn’t need one more thing. One more commitment. One more chance to fail at a time when I feel like I am failing everyone, everywhere and everything multiple times a day.
I could give you a thousand reasons why I should have said no to The Beautifull Project, when the truth is it literally never crossed my mind. I didn’t even think.
The only answer was yes.
Sometimes, when we have deep roots, the downside is we start to feel stuck in our surroundings, like the world is happening to us instead of for us. Like the rains that just keep coming will no doubt drown us. We forget the winds are filled with oxygen, instead standing firm – holding our breath – just waiting to break.
Being in this space, taking up my space, it wasn’t an option …
It was a lifeline. A chance to rise above these weeds. To stop the suffocation. To catch my breath. To find the sunshine.
If we’ve ever met, you know I’ve got no trouble using my voice. I’m loud in all the wrong places (especially after a few glasses of wine), and my opinion doesn’t fall far from my sleeve.
However, at this phase in life, where everything in me feels different, wrong and incapable of handling the hurricane that runs circles around my day, all I want is peace and quiet. All I want is silence and space.
Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s having two kids, maybe it’s ten years into a marriage, twenty years into life with the farmer or having spent the last 24 months straight talking about nothing but things that pretty much break my heart in two with multiple teams of doctors, countless pharmacists, insurance specialists and a therapist or two …
I just want space.
I want to SLOW THE *F* DOWN for important things.
I want to go inward, to drink an endless cup of coffee and owe no one anything at all but a smile.
Because I, my dear friend, am freaking exhausted.
But take up space?
Yes. I can do that.
And I must.
Because, you see, on the other end of this messy spectrum is a little girl. A little girl with cystic fibrosis whose body was built unlike yours and mine. A little girl who asked for none of this and was born with all of it – a body that from the moment it took its first gentle breath would literally need extra air. A body that requires daily intentional actions of love, and a heart that deserves the moon.
And I have been charged with teaching her how.
I – the average farm wife in the size 16 jeans who hates what she sees in the mirror, refuses to take pictures, cries on bad hair days, doesn’t own a single pair of shorts and blames her body for more than words – must set the example for this girl to love herself wholly in her body.
I know you feel the weight I’m feeling in this. I know you see your own little girl, or that girl down the street who has no mama to look up to, or that 20-something in your office who just wants to know how to be a woman.
I know you feel this.
Because wherever you are, if you are reading this right now, you are being called here because you too were meant to take up space. You are here because there is something in you that deserves to shine. You have a story I absolutely cannot wait to hear.
This is unavoidable and inescapable heart work. This is a MUST.
This is shaking my very core, and I have no idea what the hell to do about it other than to say: here I am, this is me and I promise to sit back with my coffee and give you your space while I listen to your story.
If you haven’t listened to the podcast yet, lock that in while you head out for a walk, while you’re sitting in traffic or sneak in those ear buds while the kiddo watches Peppa Pig for the 800th time during breathing treatments (oh wait, is that just me?).
Binge away, lady, because season two is coming fast. On Jan. 24th, we launch the season of survivors. We’re talking to women with all sorts of survival stories and – spoiler alert – they are all just us. Exactly like you and me way down deep, trying to figure out ways to take up space, to live in her body.
Each one has a completely extraordinary ordinary story, and this is, my dear friend, is just the beginning.