On Being Sustained

This morning I am in Las Vegas on a week long (read: seven FULL days) vacation with my husband. It is no secret it has been a tough few months for our family, but we get back to kickin’ ass and takin’ names, and decided to take time to breath a little life back into ourselves sans kids.

Currently, I am sitting in a cool room, watching Catfish, drinking coffee my husband hand delivered while someone a few blocks away washes my clothes. When I am done writing, I will probably soak in a bath and get a pedicure while Jason finishes up his work day, then we will go to dinner and walk hand in hand down one of the neatest places I have ever been. If that doesn’t breath life I am not sure what possibly could.

My kids are being kept alive for these seven days by my saint of a sister in Knoxville. She is feeding them, cuddling them, and keeping them entertained – which is no small feat – while I sleep in and indulge. I am so very grateful for her.

Being without kids in an awesome place allows me a little time to write about the big feelings I had when moving. Truthfully, the blisters on my feet from walking more than 50,000 steps since we got here Friday also semi-forces me to take a little bit of a day off from sightseeing. I have tried many times to write about leaving Tallahassee and settling in Knoxville but have always stopped. The tears flow readily, the kids interrupt, and while overall, it is a choice I am very happy with, it is a choice I am still processing.  When I think about our lives since last July, there is still a lot of confusion and “how did that happen?” Figuring those things out while trying to build our new life is a lot of emotional work. I like to avoid emotional work. It’s too… emotional…

BUT.

Despite the confusion at the domino effect that started with Jason voluntarily leaving his job leading to us ultimately moving is not 100% understood just yet, I do now fully understand what it means to be sustained.

For many years, I believed that being sustained meant people found you worthy of their approval. You got their vote and in turn their “support.” In addition to a skewed definition of sustaining, I also bought into the idea that as a fat woman, I was not allowed to need support. My needs were not valid simply because of my body size. That the moments support was offered were some sort of social test of my ability to be self-reliant. That I was not worthy of anyone’s backing or approval anyways. That idea has been reinforced by personal and social interactions for many years, but those are painful sad stories and this is a happy post. This way of thinking has been detrimental in many ways; mostly it has resulted in me becoming a help-refusing, militantly organized, one step ahead of everything all the time person that get things done alone. The flip side of that is that I often feel isolated, resentful, overwhelmed and forgotten. It’s not a pretty picture, but it is one I see and am working on.

The challenges we faced last year were not things I/we could do alone – no matter how hard or how much I/we wanted to. This was not a case of me needing to simply swallow my pride and ask for help. This was not a case of needing to accept the help being offered. There were times I was physically needed in 3 places at once – after not sleeping for days, having no money for resources, or time to even shower. People saw that and offered profusely! No, this was a matter of me reconciling that relying on other people was safe; that the people offering help were not doing so with nefarious intentions. They did not want to hurt me – they genuinely wanted to help.

It wasn’t about approval, power, or social control at all. It was about people who loved me seeing me in need and wanting to fill that need. Pure and simple.

And just to be clear there were moments I was shamed for it. I was accused of using and manipulating people. I was called stupid and lazy. I was called a fat and negligent mother. I was reminded that I didn’t even have a full-time job, so how dare I need help… Rude, right? But I guess bitches gotta bitch about something…

But those terrible things people tried to hurt me with were no match for the outpouring of genuine, loving support and service. So, jokes on the people who are jerks, right? Turns out, a lot of folks love me and my family.

This is what I learned from Jason being without work for 6 months. From driving Uber until 4 a.m. and still getting kids ready for school by 8:00 so we could pay bills. From starting a catering business and growing it, then immediately having to close it because of our move. From selling a house with a spouse 1,087 miles away. From having the flu at the same time as my kids the week of Christmas. From leaving the home I loved for reasons I’m not quite sure of… What I learned is how to withstand. To continue. To persevere.

And I learned the way I have been doing those things – ALONE – sucks. Letting people in. Letting them love you. Letting them see your dirty floor and handing them the broom… That vulnerability saved us because we finally saw how much people really love us. It restored a significant amount of my faith in humanity.

It was my friend Danielle letting me keep a freezer full of food in her garage while we moved. It was my mom’s friend Bill working in my yard for three days straight to give my home curb appeal to sell. It was Amy coming to paint my shutters. It was my sister coming to stay with me for an entire week to pack, move, paint and finish staging my house. It was my mom sleeping at our house multiple nights so Jason and I could both Uber until the early hours of the morning. It is Patty sitting in my living room and just talking to me when I didn’t know what else to do. It was Kim coming over with her infectious laugh to remind me how amazing Knoxville is, and how much she would love to be there. It was Marquesas keeping my children for 12 hours on a Saturday, right after she started a new job, so I could move heavy furniture without children underfoot all day. Our friends Lee and Tim letting us park a truck full of stuff in their driveway when our storage unit was full. My friend Anette and her family packing on multiple occasions with us. It is my Brother in Law, Dane, driving our car through the night all the way to Tennessee – despite being incredibly sick – to turn around and immediately fly back home from Knoxville. It was Jason eating Ramen and PB&J in New Jersey so we could have a little extra money for pizza or Chik Fil A because there was so much going on, that is what my kids lived on for a couple of months. It is my little sister having us in her home for some holiday cheer since we didn’t even put up a Christmas tree this year. It is all the people who volunteered to and watched my kids. It is the women at my sister’s church welcoming me to their ladies’ activities with open arms. It was Leo’s school in Tally selecting us as their holiday family to bless – giving us gift cards and encouragement at a time when I couldn’t even take a shower. It is the homeschool community we are building in Knoxville.

It was every text of concern. Every hug offered. Every meal delivered. Every thought you had for us – we felt it. It carried us, and we owe some of this upswing to you!

This is the part of writing this that produces tears in me – and always will. To recollect what love as an action word is, I need only to look at my life from August to present. Whatever guides this universe saw me painted into a corner for 6 months. My hand was forced to allow people to carry me. My anxiety was at all time high at the most stressful moment of my life. And all these people stepped in to hold me – and my family – up when we could not.

I have learned that being sustained is not about if people agree with you or find you worthy. The ones who view sustaining others in that light are the same ones who had negative reactions to me being sustained; their lives are bitter and sad. Rather, being sustained is when people step in knowing what  you need before you do. When they don’t even hesitate to take their own time and resources to give to you. When they don’t even ask your permission and they just do.

I learned that feeling worthy or being worthy have no effect on whether or not one can actually feel sustained. And I think that is a baby step towards opening ourselves to being loved and loving ourselves. As we allow ourselves to be loved by others, we find the good in hard times.

And we all have hard times, right? If you are like me at all and are afraid of being ridiculed for not being able to do it all on your own, I highly recommend being vulnerable in those difficult moments you experience. Modern parenting – especially if you aren’t cookie cutter – is hard. You are under a microscope all the time! Being vulnerable is a signal to those who genuinely love you to step in. To shower you with love and support when you simply cannot move forward because of the weight on your shoulders. If people don’t offer support or if they are cruel the way I experienced (which is a risk, I’ll be frank!) at least it’s one less Christmas card to send, right?

To those who sustained us, thank you. Your love defines what it means to have a tribe, and we have a damn good one.