Soul Food

Yesterday I fed my soul.

Wednesday, however, was not a good day. I had a long session at my therapist’s office and spoke openly about how lonely I had been feeling. That night I admitted to my husband how much I was missing my father (who died 13 years ago) and how I wished I were able to make more friends with women in my town. The grief I experienced when my dad passed away was unlike any other, and it was one I wasn’t eager to see again in my lifetime. At that time I also longed for close friends who would support and encourage me. The similarity of how I felt then compared to how I feel now was unnerving and upsetting.

I felt like I was back in time, dipping my toe into that same unhealthy pool of misery. Only this time, rather than jump in, I am doing everything I can to pull myself away from it.

“I hate feeling this way,” I said to my husband through tears. “This isn’t where I want to be.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

“I’m not a victim,” I said. “And I can’t stand when people play the victim.”

He nodded.

“I won’t let this feeling beat me,” I said. “I will win.”

He smiled. “I know, baby,” he said. “I know you will.”

He suggested I get out and do something. Volunteer, take a class, just do something that would start my social wheels in motion. I promised I would begin.

So yesterday morning I got up and put on a new attitude. I took a Pilates class and afterward drove to a gathering some of the moms at Lily’s school were having. These two women were in charge of a fundraiser and needed help wrapping the donated baskets. Last week I got the e-mail asking parents who were available to help out and I decided I would just show up.

Sometimes the best intentions are actually met with even better reactions.

I spent the entire morning chatting, laughing and talking with the other women who had dropped by to help as well. Some I had already met, others I was introduced to for the first time but everyone was fun to be around. When it was noon and I had to pick up Aimee from school, the woman hosting the event said, “Come back. We’re ordering pizza and Aimee is more than welcome to join us.”

So I did. Aimee was a star (she helped me wrap baskets and enjoyed listening to the grown-ups chit-chat) and I got some quality socializing time in. We began to discuss spring break and I mentioned a country we were thinking about visiting. One of the moms said, “Oh, you should talk to Cindy. She’s been there.”

You know how people say there are no coincidences in life, only fate? Well, decide for yourself.

I called Cindy and we chatted for half an hour. It turns out she and I have a lot in common: we both enjoy traveling, we both lived in the Middle East and we both have young children in the same town. I was thrilled to find another person to whom I could relate. As a bonus to our phone meeting, she invited me to a Mom’s Night Out at a local bar next week, which I plan on attending.

In one fell swoop I beat the Misery Monster, folks. In fact, I kicked its ass.

Photo by Sanja Gjenero, courtesy of stock.xchng