I had read that acceptance is
what is, rather than what could be. In
many ways, I have grown and learned from my experiences. I am well aware of my weaknesses and my
strengths. Daily I thank God for my
faith, and the ability to keep that belief, in Him, in others, and to find the
courage to face whatever obstacles I might face. Over the years, there have
been many trials. But there have been so many blessings and tribulations.
I am not the same woman I was
before. There are so many people in my
life today, who bring me so much joy, hope, inspiration, peace, and love. They are those who accept me as I am,
focusing on my strengths rather than on my weaknesses. They are not prone to
anger, criticism and judgment. They are not bad minded, critical or demanding.
They respect, admire and genuinely love me. This has been proven so many times
over the course of the last twenty four years living with bipolar disorder. And
the many years, prior to developing this disorder.
Though I get out and about and
socialize often, there are times I need to be by myself, to pray, to read, to
write, to reflect. Socrates had said,
“The un-reflected life is not worth living.”
As I aged and am now in my mid-fifties, I have taken the time to reflect
and appreciate the experiences, the good, the bad and the ugly, realizing they
are all learning experiencing that have helped me form the woman I am today.
In a book entitled, “The Best of
Friends, The Worst of Enemies,” I read:
“…a woman may feel that her mistrust of other women goes back to her
early childhood friendships, but chances are such a woman also had a negative
relationship with her mother. In my case, both happened to be true. In reading this book, I learned a lot about
myself and my relationship to other women. “Some girls who either had less than
terrific relationships with their mothers, or less than satisfying
relationships when they were younger, may seek out intense romantic
friendships. Other girls find themselves latching on to older girls in search
of a role model.” In my case, it was the
latter.
Friendships with girls my own age
was fleeting and exceedingly painful. During my youth, two of my friends were
six years older than me. This was something my mother could not accept nor
understand. At times she went out of her way to discourage me and the
friendships. Luckily, my friends were not bothered by this and the age
difference was not a problem for either of them, or for me. Both friends are
still in my life today, forty three years later. And both still regularly keep in touch with
me, the one was my former French and English teacher, who never fails to
remember and acknowledge my birthday, my anniversary, the holidays, and when I
lost my grandparents and my mother, she came to the funerals. The other was a
neighbour who lived directly across the street from me. Both women have been
role models, mentors and a source of great comfort and satisfaction for me.
They have enriched my life in so many ways.
My experience with friends my own
age seemed to involve jealousy and competition and pettiness. I did not talk
much or share my inner most thoughts and feelings with them or others. Even with
my older friends mentioned above, but my older friends, they never pressed me
to speak if I did not want to and they never judged or criticized me. It was
the accepting me as I was that forged a lifetime bond with me. The friends my
own age fell by the wayside, all but one friend, from high school. Though we
rarely, if ever see one another, we keep in touch and share the milestones of
our lives: the deaths of a parent, the births of our children and our
grandchildren. These three childhood friends I have known since I was a shy,
awkward and sullen teenager.
Today, the majority of my friends are
considerably older than me. I am incredibly close to my in-laws (all of whom I
consider friends) and to certain members of my family, my aunt Theresa for one,
and my youngest sister Bonnie for another.
I have always been close to my maternal side of the family. They have
influenced my life in so many positive ways, and have been a great source of
comfort, strength, and inspiration, for me, none more than my grandmother.
As so many women within my family have faced
excruciating and trying times (the sudden deaths of children and grandchildren
at an early age for example), I am proud of the women in my family and the way
they have endured and overcome the trials in their lives. From the single moms
who raised their families without help, who are there for their children, their
families and friends, no matter what and give from the heart asking little or nothing
in return. To those who got a formal
education and to those who obtained a degree from the school of hard knocks, to
those who chose to stay home and are there for their families twenty four hours
a day, to those who work both outside and within the home, and those who work,
go to school and raise their children alone without any help, valiantly trying
to do the job of both parents and better their own lives and those of their
children. Motherhood is the single most common denominator many of us share. We have had great teachers and role models
within our families, and we have faith, hope and trust in one another, the
security of knowing that we are loved, cherished, admired, inspired and
accepted. God bless them every one. He
certainly has blessed me in making them all a part of my life.
Lynn-Marie.
