“Disconnecting with familiar surroundings is important if you’re trying to reconnect with yourself.” ~ Meggan Roxanne (Source Unknown)
I finally got some alone time. I did not have to rush out the door. I did not have to factor in a 30 minute cushion for inevitable toddler emergencies. I could start and finish uninterrupted.
Relieved was an understatement.
That relief lasted an entire 24 hours. Then I began to get a little lost. I found myself half past relaxed and edging towards panicked. Here I was, at a conference in Orlando all by myself, and I had no idea who I was – without the children.
All of these wonderful people surrounded me. They had all of these gifts to offer. They had been teaching successfully longer than I had been involved in the teaching profession. They coached. They motivated, and I could not figure out how I fit into the puzzle. They already had full representation of all the aspects of myself that I usually used as selling points. I had nothing new to offer. My extraordinary was looking painfully ordinary, and at day two, I decided that perhaps they had called the wrong person. Maybe I was not a good fit for this summer position.
I packed my extraordinary in my suitcase and resolved to ride out my remaining time under the radar. I simply needed to make it home.
As I sat in front of the mirror and twisted my fro, I began to have a conversation with myself.
“You will not do this Brittany. Who are you without the children, without the husband? Who are you when it is just you and the girl staring back in the mirror? What do you love to do? What do you have to offer?”
At first, I was less than pleased with my response. It seemed superficial compared with titles like wife, coach, teacher, and motivator.
I decided that I liked to dress up. I liked to look nice. I liked to shop. I still enjoyed reality tv. I liked to take pretty pictures of beautiful places, things, and people. I liked to look at pretty pictures of beautiful places, things, and people.
Right about there, I began to fuss at myself. Was I really that shallow? Had I really reduced my life without a husband and children to clothes, hair, reality tv, and iphone photos?
I looked back up in the mirror, hoping for more answers and instead began to ask myself more questions. “If you were 21 in Orlando, Florida, what exactly would be on your list of must-dos before you leave?”
I came up with two answers. I wanted to go outlet shopping, and I needed to see the Mouse. Again, I berated my superbowl, “I’m going to Disney World” response and confirmed my lack of depth as I obtained directions to the nearest outlet mall.
Before I could finish, though, I recalled a former conversation with my soon to be boss right before I decided to accept her offer. At the end of our call, she stated that she thought of me because she could really use a cheerleader.
I began to smile at the girl in the mirror because if nothing else I can do cheerleading. While I was never a real cheerleader, with stunts, and somersaults, and tumbling, I have always been someone’s number one fan. Apparently, I am a sight to see while I am coaching, or teaching, or leading children. Having never seen myself in action, I can neither confirm or deny the allegations. Yet, at some point, I heard it enough to internalize it.
I never really catalogued cheerleading as a skill. Being good at math is a skill. Being good at English is a skill. Being a good sprinter/hurdler is a skill. Being a good teacher is a skill. Being a good mother is a skill. Being a good wife is a skill.
Cheerleading is who I am. Cheerleading is what I am born to do. Cheerleading is my ordinary.
Shopping is what I love to do. Being a big kid – way too old to patrol Disney World alone – is what I love to do. Taking cute pictures of cute places, with cute people, and cute backdrops is what I love to do.
Then, I began to speak life into the girl in the mirror. “You are here because you are a cheerleader. Math meetings do not need more mathematicians. They could use a few more cheerleaders. Intellectual conversations need cheerleaders. Students need cheerleaders. Kids need cheerleaders. Husbands need cheerleaders. Clothing stores need cheerleaders. The world could use a few interruptions in their regularly scheduled programs. The world could use your ordinary.
“You were called because you were a perfect fit for the position. Now, the lights are on, and it is time to put on a show.”
So for every mom who has lost her way in the life of her children, her husband, her job, housework, or committees…everyone once in a while, take the hats off.
Take a good look at the girl the mirror. Remember who you were before life took over. Never forget her. Never forget your ordinary…Never forget what you would do if all you had left was yourself.
Whoever she is…Whatever it is, the world needs it. You are a perfect fit.
Who are you without all the titles?
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Chandra Lynn nominated me for this Quote Challenge I am a week behind, but I finally completed Day 3!!!
Here are the rules:
- Thank the person who nominates you
- Post one quote per day for 3 consecutive days
- Nominate three new bloggers each day
I’d like to nominate the following bloggers. Whether they accept or not, I believe each of them has an amazing format and people should definitely see it.