When you're loved so well, you know you're enough | A farewell to The Mujeres Increibles
When I landed in Panama, I did not know one person. A week after we landed, I found a small gym and started taking Zumba classes. Sometimes, I was the only student. Awkward. In Austin, where I had lived before, I was a member of a large gym with 456 class offerings and all sorts of amenities. Stepping foot into the simplest of gyms was quite a departure. Still, I went. And after a few months of taking Zumba classes, I started to feel my courage bubble up. Many people would say it is not courageous to want to teach a fitness class in a tiny beach town in Central America. But it was my version of bold.
I contacted the owner and threw my hat in the ring. “I’d love to teach a class!”
She replied, “Do you have any type of certification?”
“No, I don’t, but I can lead.”
“Okay, thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
Total strikeout.
I’m not sure what I expected since I had no training, but still, the rejection stung a little.
BUT, a few weeks later, the owner called me and asked if I could substitute teach two Zumba classes. “Sure!” I was so thrilled. I watched YouTube videos and practiced moves. Picture it.
Okay. Stop picturing it.
The big day arrived, and I was ready was 4, maybe even 5 students!
One sweet lady showed. Marie.
It was a dumpster fire of an hour. 5, 6, 7, 8.
I was so pitiful at teaching Zumba. I’m cringing just thinking about it. I had NO CLUE what I was doing or how to communicate.
Still, I went home and practiced more. I’m no quitter, and I had a second class to teach!
Again, Marie was the only student. And again, I totally sucked.
It was so humbling and embarrassing.
I left with my tail between my legs.
I returned, with relief to my spot as a student.
A few weeks went by, and my phone rang. It was the owner of the gym. “Can you teach a weights class?”
“HELL YES I CAN! I have been working out since I was about 18 years old, and I have done thousands of weight class, Cross Fit classes, cardio classes, all sorts of things!”
This I could do.
So I showed up, ready, and confident.
On my first day, I had four students. Irina, Andrea, Cinthia, and Lole.
I didn’t know any of the ladies previous to the class, but it was an absolute blast! I had only been in Panama for a few months, and I still didn’t have friends. But I wanted friends. Maybe they could be my friends?
We came to Panama as a family to slow down, to take things off of our career plates, and to enjoy our children more. And the more we slowed down, the more space feelings had to rise to the surface.
For so long, I had been paying the meter on my career. Even when my career was running bars and restaurants, I had to be in constant forward motion. I thought that my worth was attached to who I was affiliated with, what I was producing, and what I could give other people. I always had some impressive pieces to present. Maybe it was that I had a great job and interacted with famous people, maybe it was that I lived in a fancy neighborhood, maybe it was that I published a book, maybe it was that I was a TEDx speaker. I could always hang my hat on some external thing, and that always brought me a sense of relief. If they know this ______________, then I’ll be validated.
But I started to notice, at the end of every finish line crossed, I never felt any different. I always felt like the same person. Never better or more validated or more qualified. And I started to get curious.
Who would I be without the hot poker of achievement moving me forward? Could I just be still? Would I be happy with my life, with myself if I was bare?
And so when I landed in Panama, I decided to do an experiment. I decided to let it all go.
It helped that all the hooks I used to hang my hat on, were nonexistent in Panama. There were no book stores, no bloggers, and there was no speaking circuit. No one was trying to amass a following or build a career.
And it was a HUGE relief. I never had to talk about work or my husband’s job or my career. None of it was important.
In the community where we landed, there was NO COMPETITION, even subconsciously, for anything. And even though it took me time to find the language for it, my body and heart knew, “Oh, this, this is what we’ve been needing.”
And so, for the first time maybe ever, I was myself.
I presented as Catia. Mom of two girls, wife to husband, from Texas. That was it. I didn’t have any stories attached to me. My history wasn’t important, the only thing that mattered was the present moment. The clothes I wore or the house I lived in or the car I drove didn’t matter. All that mattered was that my friends and I went for coffee and bagels after gym class. Who I was married to didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was friendly.
And so I would show up to my gym class, and teach. I’d blare good music, and I would cheer on my students and laugh while I made up crazy workout combos. Slowly, we started to schedule play dates and text back and forth and eat meals together. My students had no idea that this way of living was absolutely foreign to me. They were too, just being themselves.
The gym was the most perfect place for me to land. It was everything I loved – women, music, teaching, encouraging, and fitness all rolled into one. I would cheer my students on and say things like, “embarrassment doesn’t exist here,” and “no one gets left behind!” I’d remind them of how sexy and strong they were. And we went from teacher/student to friend/friend.
We had so many laughs, and we also had tender moments. One day during class, my friend started crying. I’ll never forget it. I stopped class, and I walked over to her and just hugged her. She kept crying on my shoulder, and I told her it was going to be okay, and that she could cry. We stood in the middle of ten women, hugging. And when the tears stopped, we started the class up again. No further explanation. A pause, some tears, and a bear hug were enough.
My students who became friends were from all over! Russia, South Africa, Panama, Slovakia, Peru, Chile, Brazil, Canada, USA, Colombia, Cuba – so much diversity in one small gym class. Many a morning spent together, working out and pushing our bodies and also giving ourselves time, as women, as moms and wives to do some self-care. I taught three classes a week for about a year. It was the greatest surprise.
And so a few days ago, when they threw me a surprise farewell brunch, I was so tender and teary.
My friends walked me into Barbara’s house (one of our other friends) to see her “new decorations,” and they yelled, “SURPRISE!”
And I wept.
No one had ever thrown a surprise party for me. My first ever!
All my girlfriends were there, and I was overflowing with gratitude.
The brunch layout was the best I’d ever seen, and every detail from the infused water to the coffee cups was perfect. I felt so loved and cared for. I was on the brink of tears the entire time, and so when they started presenting me with the most touching and personal gifts, I lost it. And I knew I had to tell them what I had realized.
I told them about landing in Panama and having no one. I said how I valued them. I told them how I was so grateful for their love and friendship, and I gave them to utmost thanks for guiding me back to myself.
Me without achievement. The real me.
They showed me that I, on my own, was enough.
I
Was
Enough.
I’m not sure I had ever felt that before.
Many people love me and have loved me through many stages.
But I had never put myself in a situation where I had taken SO MUCH off my career plate that I was left kind of empty-handed, nothing to show off.
The entire experience was freeing and liberating and absolutely life-changing.
I am deeply grateful for every single one of these ladies. They will be a part of me forever.
Mujeres Increibles, Majo, Allison, Nina, Adriana, Pam, Natalia, Lole, Irina, Barbara, Cinthia, Julie, Judy, Bia, Andrea S., and Andrea L.,
Gracias por amarme bien. Son una bendicion! El mundo tiene suerte de tenerte, y mas que nada eres suficiente.
Thank you for loving me well. You are angels on earth. The world is lucky to have you, and above all else, you are enough.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
Shine your brightest,
The Courage to Become | Kim Pena
The “Courage to Become” is such an all-encompassing subject. When I first brainstormed this I thought of things I had “become.”
From a daughter-->friend-->educator-->wife-->mother-->strong woman the list was long but not super interesting. I reached out the Catia and she asked me a simple but powerful question, “What do you feel has been the most difficult for you? What were you most scared of?” I almost immediately responded but then I just sat back and really reflected for a few days because as an adult not much scares me, but that has by no means always been the case.
How did I go from a child who was scared of even speaking to a woman who not only finds strength in herself but works hard to surround herself with a village with other strong and amazing women?
On being young and scared
When I was young I was scared of everything. I don’t know if it was being the youngest child with an older brother who liked to pick on me or watching America’s Most Wanted (John Walsh gave me nightmares for years) but I was afraid of a lot. I grew up with a speech impediment and so I was always on guard. Over time I became not only scared of how I said things but of what I said. I spent my life trying to be who I thought people wanted me to be. I was most afraid of being myself.
I learned early on how to play a role. With friends and even with family I wasn’t fully me, I worked hard to be who I thought they needed or who they wanted me to be.
I learned pretty early on how to manipulate a false connection. I’m not proud, but it’s true. I let people see sides of me, maybe a dramatic side, maybe a loving side, maybe an intellectual side, maybe sometimes a mean side but never authentic me. I sat in fear that that they might figure me out and judge me or worse, hate me.
As a young woman I held my tongue and told myself that it was a good thing. That if I didn’t say certain things I was being strong and picking my battles – but really I was just holding myself in because I was scared.
I was scared of being wrong, scared of being judged, and sometimes even scared of being right.
The only person who I was completely myself around was my mother. I honestly wanted to meet and exceed any goals she had for me but not because I felt pressured. She was the source of love and strength for me. If I have any goals for myself as a mother it is to make my children feel as comfortable with me as I have always felt with her.
On growing up and finding authenticity
During my senior year of college I went to Austin to find a job.
I wanted to move and get clean break from everyone. I had lived by myself once in college (and even though it was a bad part of town and I almost froze to death) it was exhilarating and I couldn’t wait to do it again.
After I landed in Austin, I had coffee with a guy and I tried my basic first date formula, i.e. ask questions all about them, but it failed. He was the first person who saw through all my bullshit and asked me questions that really made me search for honest answers and then challenged me to defend my answers. So, I decided to try something radically different – I tried to be authentic. I spent time on my own and got to really know myself. And while not everyone was happy with the new me, I was able to form some of the most genuine friendships of my life.
Being authentic was definitely harder than I thought. There were still people in my life that I was terrified would judge me. There were people I loved -- and I really wanted to be who they wanted me to be – but it never quite worked. It is so difficult to reflect on whether the choices you have made are your own or someone else’s expectation of you. It is even harder to accept that the choices weren’t yours and aren’t something you wanted or are particularly happy with. The reality is that when you find courage to challenge the people in your life to get to know the authentic you, you can’t control the outcome.
I was heartbroken over some outcomes and relieved at others but either way my fear melted away and I emerged stronger.
On continuing to evolve
I have discovered the truth in the proverb that change is the only constant. In the last decade, everything about me has changed.
And as I grew so did my drive, my empathy, my capacity to love, and my self-will. I give as many chances as people need. I accept and still love those who don’t like me or still see me as the person I once was. I don’t judge, I embrace. I do everything I can to empower other women. I have friends who don’t agree with me on everything and yet we engage in respectful conversation and I adore them. I cherish my family. I make sure every day that my children and husband are loved and appreciated. I don’t hold my tongue, but I listen humbly.
Ladies, if you don’t have the courage to let your voice be heard and become strong enough to speak for yourself then you’ll never be heard. If you don’t love enough to listen, then nothing can ever be fixed.
If I could leave you with one discovery, it would be --
I have become strong not because I let someone in, but because I learned to let myself out.
And that same power, is waiting for you. -Kim
Essay by: Kim Pena
Don't you love Kim's story of how she moved from fear to power?! I was definitely inspired!
For more of Kim and to say Hello :) , head on over to:
The Hill Country Woman / FB/TheHillCountryWoman / Insta-TheHillCountryWoman
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Five Love Languages
Originally published on 9-25-13
Buy the book, The 5 Love Languages. Read it in one day. Comprehend it in 2-3 days. Practice it forever.
As I was trying to figure out who I was and which way was north, my Mom bought me, The 5 Love Languages for Singles. Ha!
I read it once, but it didn’t really sink in. Until one day, I needed it to.
I hit a rough patch with my now husband. A ROUGH spot.
I thought, “I am going to pull out all the stops.” I was determined to not make the same mistakes I had in the past, so I got really still and rolled up my sleeves. I was determined to do give this relationship the best chance it had at survival. He was trying, I was trying, but somehow we were missing the target with each other. So, I pulled out the book and read it. Reading was not quite enough for me so I downloaded the book on itunes and listened to it to and from work. It’s not Justin Timberlake, but I knew there was important information I needed.
A few plays through book, I realized I was not bringing my 100% to the table.
I have learned that to be in a good relationship, both people have to be responsible for their 100%. Among other things, each person has to bring love to the table, in the way that their partner receives love. Think of your relationship. Do you feel loved? Does the person you are in a relationship with feel loved?
This book, The 5 Love Languages gives you tools to make sure that both people feel loved and appreciated. It helps make sure that both people are being fulfilled. We all give love and receive love in different ways. This book helps you identify the way you receive love. Can you answer, I feel most loved by my husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend when_________________________?
The 5 Love Languages:
Quality time-Quality time is just that quality time. You feel loved and appreciated when you and your loved one spend time together. Spending time together could be: making dinner and home, a picnic in the park, visiting a museum or watching a movie together. The time spent together says, I am interested in you and your interests. I love you and so I want to spend time with you.
Touch- Touch comes in many forms. It comes as a kiss on the cheek, as making love, as kisses in private and in public. Touch comes as holding hands while crossing a busy street or by someone placing their hand on your shoulder. Some people grow up with touch and some don’t. It’s easier for some people to convey love through touch than it is for others. Do you receive the message of love through touch?
Gifts- Some people feel loved and appreciated when they are given gifts. Gifts don’t have to be big and expensive; they can be small and thoughtful. A written note speaks volumes to a person who loves gifts. A handmade Valentine’s Day card will do the trick too. Other thoughtful examples are: a coffee mug with a thoughtful sentiment on it, a fresh flower, or a new rosary from the Church gift shop. There are many gifts that would convey, “While I was out, I was thinking of you and here’s some proof.” Gifts that come from loved ones being thoughtful are meaningful. They show that they have listened intently to you AND that they thought of you while they were out running errands. Do you feel loved when people give you gifts?
Words of Affirmation- You feel loved and appreciated when people express to you in words how much they love and how much they are proud of you. “I really love you.” “You are so beautiful.” “You are the great love of my life.” “You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.” “You are so handsome; when you’re in the room I don’t see anyone else.” These may seem corny, but they’re not. They are very real to the person being affirmed. Do you feel loved when people tell you how much they love you, or are words not as big a deal as, acts of service?
Acts of Service- You feel most appreciated when your loved ones helps you around the house, or runs an errand for you. Acts of service can be as simple as taking out the trash or as elaborate as hosting out of town family.
As a clue, often people convey love in the way they want to receive love. Often times, our partners, spouses, friends, parents receive love differently than we do.
Could you imagine loving someone and dedicating chunks of time and effort to them without them even recognizing it? Could you imagine cooking and cleaning and ironing your boyfriend’s shirts for days and days and months and months all the while he is saying, “You must not really love me!” Or have you ever been in a relationship where all your significant other ever does is buy you the most amazing gifts and all the while you want them to say how much they are proud of you? You yearn for the day that they say, “Julie, you have made me so proud. I am proud to be your boyfriend.” Couples can go days, months and even years feeling unfulfilled, feeling like maybe their partner doesn’t care or doesn’t love them. They feel this way because they are not speaking each other’s love language. They are not conveying their love in the way their partner best receives it. Love it just love, it isn’t magic.
The best definition of love I have come across is: love is committing to a set of behaviors that have a positive impact on others. Love is positive.
Your life will be SO much easier if you love your partner they way they want to be loved. There’s no sense in feeling love for someone, trying your hardest and have it not work out because there was a miscommunication. Don’t you want the love you feel for your partner to come through loud and clear? Love must be nurtured and the relationship where love lives must be nurtured.
If your partner feels your love and knows it unequivocally, they are much more likely to want to reciprocate. When both people are consciously filling each other’s love’s tank (think of a gas tank) the relationship will grow stronger from daily nurturing. Every day you will know and feel that your partner loves you and vice versa. You will think things like, “Nothing can break us now. He/she loves me and I love them and we are solid!” Or “We are a united front. He/she loves me and they show it!” After a few months, keeping your partner’s love tank full will become second nature. Sounds scary, huh? Or does this all sound too, “Self-help section Aisle 8?” It is scary and it is certainly right up with all the foofy self-help ideas, but it is worth it. You will feel loved and content and so will your partner. Be the person to take the first step toward strengthening your relationship. You both deserve it!
P.S.- This works on all relationships: parents, family, friends, children, co-workers. It’s very effective.
Love is just love. It takes an earnest effort to make it a lifetime.
What Actually Matters?
Originally published on 9-7-13
A few years ago my girlfriend and I were moseying along South Congress and we stopped into the Hotel Saint Cecilia bar to have a drink. After we sat down the bartender asked for our room key. I told him that we weren’t staying on property; we were just there for a cocktail. He politely informed us that the bar was only available to hotel guests, and a few minutes later we were back, moseying along South Congress.
I walked out slightly bummed but since the bartender was so polite, I was intrigued.
I thought, one day, when it’s a super special occasion, I’ll stay there.
Fast forward to super special occasion, July 26th, 2013. Guapo proposed, we were officially engaged and planning commenced.
Part of the planning was booking a hotel room for our wedding night. As soon as Guapo gave me a hint of support for booking a room at the HSC, I was on it. It is possible that I booked it while he was finishing his declaration of support. “Sure, I think a room at the HSC would be…..” “Click.” Booked. I was thrilled! Hotel Saint Cecilia, here we come!
I booked it for two nights, August 28th the night before our wedding and August 29th our wedding night. My plans were to hang with my girlfriends, enjoy some extra time at the hotel and get ready for the big day, of course!
A few days out Guapo suggested that the night before the wedding I should sleep wherever I’d get the most rest and be most peaceful. He said he loved me and understood if I wanted to get some extra girl time and that we’d have plenty of nights together after. I felt he sincerely meant either location.
As I was mulling it over my sleeping situation I thought about Sex and City, the movie. Carrie and Big get engaged. Their wedding planning starts off intimate and then snowballs into a huge NYC sized production. They have intense drama and spend the next year trying to get back to where they started, cozy.
In the four weeks of wedding planning I made a concerted effort to keep everything as cool and casual as possible. I wasn’t zen, I just did my best. I never wanted to have the cake topper not coming in overshadow the importance of us committing our lives to each other. In the same vein, we had a teeny wedding of 25. This was our way of focusing on the marriage and not the production of a wedding.
It must be said that I delight in attending large, festive weddings. If those work for you, I am thrilled and please invite me to yours! I will show up in your wedding video dancing like a fool. However, a big fat Mexican wedding just doesn’t suit our personality as a couple.
Back to the task as hand -- deciding whether or not to stay at the hotel the night before our wedding.
As I was trying to figure it out I thought, “What will bring me/us the most peace and which choice will highlight the reason of honor so to speak?” I thought, “I am committing my life to this person tomorrow and my priority is staying in a cooler than cool hotel?” It just didn’t sit well with me. By 3pm on the 28th I had decided. Home was where I would stay.
I stayed at home and our fabulous to die for hotel room, where movie stars stay, stayed empty.
We slept in our bed together and woke up together. We have a beautiful morning routine that I guard intently and I guarded it that day too. There was no way we were going to start this marriage focusing on RSVPs, dinner selections or other people’s preferences. Family and friends were in town and buzzing around but we didn’t let that cut into our morning time either.
On the morning of our wedding day we read newspapers, sipped hot almond milk lattes and enjoyed each other’s company. At 9am we kissed goodbye and agreed to see each other at 4:45pm, ceremony time.
It’s so easy, especially during big moments like a wedding day, to get worked up and focus on a million little things: different personalities, schedules, rentals, linens, weather and even the groom’s attire.
Those are all little things and in the end they don’t matter. And if we’re keeping things in perspective, they don’t matter, ever.
Take a moment to write down what matters to you. It will help keep you on track.
My focus for this event is:_____________
My goal today is:____________________
I am here today to:___________________.
Don’t let your mood or perspective or goals get polluted by all the junk floating around in your orbit. I encourage you to stay peaceful and hang onto what matters most to you.
Leaving work Post Partum
Originally published on 7-24-13
Before graduating high school I was an honors student, played varsity golf and was a drum major of a 300 person marching band. When I graduated at 17 years old, I ranked 5th out of 600. After high school I attended UT Business School and clipped through that in 3 years, only to graduate at 20 years old. Immediately after UT I enrolled in graduate school at the University of Houston where I worked full time and took a full course load. After two years in graduate school I graduated with a 4.0 and got hired onto my then dream job, a manager at Eddie V’s Edgewater Grille in downtown Austin. In 2006 Eddie V’s was the sexiest place in town. The restaurant was filled with money, power, fame and beauty to boot. I was having my cake and eating it too. At 25 my family hired me full time to help run their million dollar business, Holiday Wine and Liquor. I attended community events, filmed commercials, conducted wine tastings, created team culture and built our brand. After four years with Holiday, I was hired in 2011 to be General Manager of Bar Operations at ACL-Live in downtown Austin. I was back in Austin and working at the hippest place in town. Mariah Carey told me to make it happen, and I did.
Well, a month ago I let ACL and all the cache that went with it, go. I left for two reasons. The first was to create a better environment for my relationship and future family. The second was to focus on Anna and see my dreams of writing and coaching come true.
But, seven days after I left ACL, it hit like an anvil, I was making less money and I had turned in all my street cred. Money equals power, right? Or does money equal freedom? Or does working at a cool place equal power and freedom? Whatever money and job status equals, I started to feel a little less than. I felt like a financial burden to my partner and it seemed the only way to rectify this was to work really hard at making our house perfect.
On the 8th day, I woke up at 7:45 and made the bed by 8am. I had never made the bed so early. By noon, I had washed dishes, rearranged the living room furniture, took out the trash and recycling, made iced tea, and thanked my boyfriend 78 times for reasons known and unknown. I kept thinking, “Oh, what a nice man to take me in with all my student loan debt, I’d better be extra appreciative today, he is the breadwinner after all!” I was thanking him at the rate that Pippen thanked Jordan. I was thanking him like Katie Holmes and Nicole Kidman thanked Tom Cruise. I couldn’t stop thinking how disrespectful it would be to say, “You bring home the bacon and don’t forget to cook in for breakfast too!”
Maybe it was the Mexican servitude in me and maybe it was all those years of Catholic guilt indoctrination, but it was there and it was loud.
The fact that I was not contributing as much money to the family bank account grabbed a hold of me in a way I didn’t think it would. But, like the sun rises every morning, so too did God send me a teacher.
In the few weeks after my mind had been spinning, Guapo and I sat down with friends for dinner. There were three couples, and we sat divided at the table, three men and three women. Conversation got rolling and I had the patience to wait until our entrees to do what I do best, spill my beans.
I detailed my latest life developments which included: leaving ACL, making less money, feeling overloaded with domestic duties and feeling a little less than. I described to these ladies who are wonderful mothers and strong women, how I had been unsettled and how I was trying to get my sea legs for being what I have coined a ‘house person’ (since I’m not a Mom yet), someone who largely works from home and tends to house hold duties.
Elizabeth, a mom of three, looked at me and said, “Girl, when I left my job, it took me a year and a half to adjust!” She said, “Even though I knew it was the right decision for my family, I felt less than because I no longer had a job that people were in awe of.” Elizabeth continued with, “It took some real effort not to say, I’m just a stay at home mom. When the babies cried, I felt the need to jump out of bed and not inconvenience my husband who works long days.”
Vanessa, a mom of two, said, “Oh yes, I totally understand. At first you’ll feel the need to always have the dishwasher empty and have elaborate dinners cooked.” She too had a really cool job where she had more street cred than she could ask for. Vanessa also opened up and told me about the first time she went shopping after she became a stay at home mom. She said she paused out of guilt before buying a $50 bra, because maybe it wasn’t really communal money. Thankfully, Vanessa didn’t let the conversation end before telling me that there was a time she apologized to her husband for not having the dishes cleaned and he replied with, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your job.” Surprised, Vanessa asked, “It’s not?” And she grabbed my hand and looked at me and said, “It’s not.” I felt relief sinking in.
There’s a lot to be said for women who support women. They could have easily brushed aside my comments, but they didn’t. They listened and empathized and responded. They held my hand, told me they knew exactly how I felt and sent me on my way. I am very grateful for them.
On the drive home after dinner, because I just had to have it all figured out before we were in the driveway I asked Guapo “What is my job now that I have so much free time?” He took a second and said, “Your job is to be kind and thoughtful and fulfilled, without those things our world doesn’t work.” He said, “You took a leap of faith on us, and I honor that. You giving up a job where you work nights and odd hours enhances our lives, and for that I’m grateful.” It finally started sinking in that I in fact was not a financial burden and that my increased presence in our lives was valued on time alone.
We parked the car, walked inside our home and I sat at the kitchen table while I watched Guapo buzz around the house. He fed the dogs and changed the slip covers on the sofa cushions and I told my Catholic guilt to hit the road.
The next day I reconciled that all my go getter accomplishments were still there and that “I” the person who did all those things didn’t vanish, I just decided to take another route. I made a deliberate choice to channel my energy into my home and my family and my dream of writing, and that doesn’t make me less than who I was six months ago. It in fact, gets me closer to being who I want to be.
Ladies, thank society for their idea of who you should be and if it doesn’t work for you, set it aside. Our greatest responsibility is not to make sure we fit into perfect boxes. Our greatest responsibilities as beings are to remain fulfilled and healthy and happy, so that we may make each of our corners a better place.
Some days I’ll have the bed made by 8am and some days I won’t, and it’s all okay.
Sisses do Vegas
Sometime in December the Sisses and I…wait…have I explained the Sisses yet?
I may have skirted around who the Sisses are but they deserve a detailed explanation, so let’s take a detour.
The Sisses are a motley crew of 4, smart, funny and kind women trying to find their way, propping each other up and pushing each other along to something bigger, better and more fulfilling.
How the Sisses came to be: A few years ago Sis 1 (NP) met Sis 2 (Vanny). Sis 1 and Sis 2 started frequenting the same gym where they met Sis 3 (Poni). Shortly after, I strolled along into the same gym. I’m Sis 4. In my humble opinion, we were all at a time in our lives where we needed female friendship. We needed smart women to bounce things off of who had aspirations, who were fun and kind. In the last few years we have: gone through ups and downs, had t-shirts made, run races together, had countless activity days. We have also survived: relationships, moves, cat fights, tantrums, and being broke. I think we are the luckiest friends around. Hopefully each one of you reading this has the same bond with a few people in your world. We love each other (some days more than others) and we expect the best from each other. Sisses aren’t slackers.
Back on the ranch, last December we decided to go to Vegas for Sis 3’s birthday. Yay! Visions of: spas, decadent food, scantily clad folks walking on the strip, and champagne flowed through my head.
A few weeks before our big trip, Sis 1 called and said, “We’re all set girls! I booked us to go scrambling. Neil (our guide) will pick us up at 8:30am on Sunday.” Huh? 8:30 on a Sunday? Shouldn’t we be going to sleep at 8:30am? And by scrambling do you mean Neil will be scrambling us up some delicious eggs? Negative ghostrider. Sis 1 informed us that scrambling is a method of climbing up rocky faces and ridges without ropes. The bottom line is if one stumbles their face could permanently be plastered all over some rock in Nevada, where eventually a hawk would eat the remnants.
After processing this for about 30 seconds, I said, “great!” I was pumped.
8:30am on Sunday rolled around, which was no problem, because like the awesome women we are, we were in bed, faces washed and teeth brushed by 12:30am the night before. Winners.
Neil picked us up from the hotel and drove us 30 minutes out from the Vegas strip – as we were riding in the car I thought, “either we’re climbing that mountain just up ahead or we’re about to be murdered.” Maybe Neil had watched Pesci in Goodfellas the night before, you never know.
We arrived at our destination, strapped on our backpacks and off we went.
First we were walking over gravel, then over rocks, then we were forced to look down and watch where we were stepping because the rocks became the size of watermelons, then…wait…photo opp!
Then we were really in business. Neil was coaching along, “Use one leg to step up, put your weight on your right hand, now shift all your weight to your left foot, now jump!” Or, “See that shelf (a small rock jutting out no bigger than a small plantain) that is where you are going to put your foot and see that hold (an opening in the rock so small a hamster would take issue living in it) that is where you’re going to put your hand to hold on and get yourself over the rock.” I thought, “WHAT? Am I on candid camera?” So there the four of us went, rock by rock, turn by turn, obstacle by obstacle. We climbed up, we climbed down, and we even opted for the more difficult route (competitive? Maybe.) We climbed an 850ft mountain named Red Cap without ropes or tools, just Neil’s coaching and each other’s encouragement. When we got to the top of Red Cap we signed our name on a small worn tablet with a golf pencil and made our way down, ducking and weaving and squeezing our way through impossible looking holes. See below.
During our descent I said, “I feel incredible, this is so amazing, I am a mountain woman!” Then Sis 2 turned to me and said, “That’s why we’re single…because we keep doing things like this! We realize we don’t need anyone and can keep pushing ourselves!” I thought her statement was brilliant…but that’s for another blog.
From time to time get out of your comfort zone, take a dance class, go to a party alone, climb a mountain or jump out of a plane! You deserve to shake it up a little and feel excitement and growth.
That surge of happiness and empowerment will remind you that you can handle day to day challenges and opportunities with strength and grace.
You are more than capable. I know it.