Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Moving Blogs!

Hello!  I only have stats to tell me people actually read this blog, but, in the spirit of some major changes in my life, I have decided to retire Searching for Balance.  I've started a new blog called A New Journey, at http://daralanemackay.blogspot.ca/.  If you're following this blog, I'd love if you moved over there with me!  This will be my last post here. 

Thanks for reading!

Breast Cancer Awareness in My Own Life

On December 5th, I am getting tested for the cancer gene.  In my last checkup, my doctor recommended this testing, as I have had my mother and my aunt, her sister, pass away from cancer in their late thirties and early forties respectively.  I am 31.  The death of my mom weighed heavily on my mind as I entered my thirties, because her life was a mere 38 years.  Because of these losses, I know I have to be vigilant against this disease, and I've decided to go ahead and take the genetic screening.  If I am predisposed to breast cancer, I want to know.  Knowledge is power, as they say.

While I'll be happy to know either way, and make changes in my life accordingly, the idea of getting a glimpse into my fate is a little bit daunting.  Will I be upset if the result is that I do, in fact, carry the gene?  I'm guessing yes, but I feel like this is something I need to know.  But knowing means I will be very, very diligent with my check-ups, have yearly mammograms and MRIs, and take care of my overall health with a heightened sense of urgency.  Any steps I can take to prevent cancer will be taken.  I will not leave my two daughters with no mother.  That is something I just can't do.

And that's another reason I need to know.  If I carry the gene, my daughters are at higher risk as well.  This isn't just about me, it's about making sure they are living their best and healthiest lives too.  It's a scary thought, just for myself, but I have to make sure my children are fully aware of their own health risks.

If my answer is no, then I don't think I'll be any less vigilant in my health.  I have more than myself to live for.  I feel like I've only just started living sometimes; my life feels as though it has been very short thus far.  I want a long life, as do most other people, and one key to that is making sure I know everything I need to, and treating my body and mind well.

So, I'm a little scared of what my answer will be, but I'm more determined to know; determined to live, healthily and happily.  I'm determined not to let disease, or the prospect of it, get in my way.  Breast cancer is a killer.  I'm going to do everything can to make sure I'm not on its list.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Something I've always wanted to do...

This weekend something that has been in the works for probably almost two years came to life.  It's something I've always wanted to do, but was either too chicken, too broke, or couldn't think of a good enough reason.  On Saturday, I got my first tattoo!  I must say, I'm pretty pleased with myself.

My sister and I got matching tattoos.  We've been talking about it for quite some time now.  It seemed like a really fitting thing to do to commemorate our relationship.  For a very long time, she and I weren't part of one another's lives.  When I was sixteen, I moved out, leaving my eight year old sister behind.  I went through a lot to keep in contact with her, including getting court ordered visitation.  Things between myself and her father were not good, and continued to deteriorate, and this made seeing my sister more and more difficult.  Eventually, it became impossible.  It stayed that way for close to ten years.  There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't miss her, think of her and pray that she was okay.  I always eagerly awaited news of her from my grandmother, as she was my only connection.

A few years ago, my sister came back into my life.  Our relationship started off very tentatively, and grew from there.  After she graduated high school, we started getting close.  We had a lot of really truthful, raw conversations, and there was a lot of growth there.  Then she asked me if I'd consider getting matching tattoos someday; something that meant something about our relationship.  I was on board right away!  I had always wanted one, but didn't know what I would get.  This was the perfect thing. 

So on Saturday, after over a year of living together and continuing to grow closer and more solid, seeing each other through some hard times and good times, we did it.  What we chose is so fitting of us, and turned out so beautifully!  If my body is going to be marked for the rest of my life, I'm glad it symbolizes my sister, and how much we love each other.

Here it is!


The Celtic knot at the bottom symbolizes sisterhood, and growing out of it are two calla lilies, one for each of us, growing and thriving together.  It marks the growth of our relationship, how intertwined our lives are, and how we are growing together and there for each other, always.

I couldn't be happier that we did this!  My sister is among the most important people in my life, and has been since the day she was born.  Now when I look down at my leg, I will always be reminded of that.

Love you sister!

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Thanks for the wise words John Donne

John Donne had it right when he said, "No man is an island entire of itself..."  That line is quoted so often because we, as human beings, recognize that we tend to want human connection.  The connections we have with people are directly related to our happiness.  For me, solitude, self reflection and quiet are very important.  But in balance with having meaningful relationships.

I spent many years isolating myself from others.  There were many reasons for it, and it wasn't something I did on purpose.  When I feel overwhelmed, unhappy, or struggling with something emotionally, I retreat inward.  The only person I have ever felt completely safe with is myself.  I have had a lot of practice with this.  The thing is, this practice can be so destructive.  It's interesting; while we are trying to keep ourselves safe, classic self-preservation technique, we are actually doing the opposite.  The really sad thing is that sometimes, we don't realize this until it is too late.  It takes a lot of effort to be open with others, and it's really scary.  We risk being hurt, disappointed, or worse.  Is that risk worth it?

I think maybe it is.  For me, as for many, it takes a lot of purposeful effort to be vulnerable.  I am a very closed person, and not very many get to see what's really in there. (As I think about this, I think how funny it is that I write a blog that explores my feelings, because that is a very public way to do things.  Anonymity is a great thing!)  As I go through the process of being a more open person, letting go of my insecurities and fears, I think that it is definitely worth it.  There's something so freeing about being able to trust people enough to divulge the core of yourself.  My dad is a prime example of this kind of relationship.  He knows me better than anyone on the planet I think.  And still, I have retreated from him in the past decade.  As I start to be real with him again, and see that no matter what I tell him, what I do, what I show him, I'm reminded that he still loves me exactly the same as he did the day I was born. 

Not everyone deserves this openness.  In my mind, they have to earn it.  But when they do, I think maybe I am ready to stop being such an island.  Human connection is a powerful thing.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Inadequacy and Self Worth

Painful periods in life tend to bring up old insecurities.  I think I have a fairly healthy self-esteem, and for the majority of my adult life, I have learned to understand that my value is intrinsic, and can't change based on external things; that it is fixed because I am human and I matter.  I am finding lately though, that this is being shaken.  We all go through periods of self doubt, and that old, nagging feeling that I am just not good enough is resurfacing.  I don't like it.  This is not something I want to hold on to, and I am beginning to work through these feelings with a professional therapist.  I've been to counseling before, a very long time ago, and at this time in my life, I think it is definitely a tool that I should and will take advantage of. 

The hard part about feeling like I am not good enough is that I know I actually am.  It's hard to make head and heart reconcile sometimes.  When we feel emotions, logic goes out out the window.  Logical me knows that nothing can take my value away.  Logical me sees and understands that I am, in fact, good enough, and always have been.  How others receive me is in their control, not mine, and it cannot change who I am and what I am made of.  Emotional me, on the other hand, tends to get caught up in self-degradation, and loves to feel less than valuable.  I know exactly why I am this way.  We all have some form of insecurity, and mine partially comes from never quite being good enough as I was growing up.  When you treat a child like they just can't measure up, and your expectations are unrealistic, that leaves scars (but that's a whole other post!).  My scars are a little sore right now.

That said, I am thankful that I'm aware of this inner struggle.  Awareness is the first step to healing, and it is my hope that I can, once again, work through these lies emotional Dara is trying to tell me.  Sadly, it's the emotional parts of me that seem to be at the forefront right now, though not necessarily winning.  My last counseling appointment addressed these issues directly, and something my counselor read to me stuck.  My inner value is fixed.   It doesn't matter what I do, how I feel about myself, how others perceive me, my value will always remain the same.  It is equal to the value of every other human being, and that is unchangeable.  I like it!

I wrote a long time ago about positive self-talk as a tool I have used to help me out of these emotional downward spirals.  I've found that at this particular point in my life, I have to use this tool quite often.  "I am valuable."  "I am a very good mother."  "I am strong."  "I am important." 

It doesn't matter how I feel about myself, or how insecure I get, my inner value is fixed.  It can't be changed or diminished.  And when I have moments of self-doubt, self-loathing, self-degradation, I can rest assured that the core of me cannot change.  I was born with it and I will die with it.  And in this life, I must own it.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

To say I love my kids is a gross understatement.

To say I love my kids is a gross understatement. If you're a parent, or even if you're not, I'm sure you know what that feels like to love someone like that. There are no words in the English language that can express what I feel for them. It's a connection that comes from the deepest part of my being. There is nothing more important in my life than those beautiful girls.

And they deserve the entire world. Because they exist. Because they came from me.

What I also know, without question, is that they deserve the best me possible. I've been working on myself, my issues, my struggles for a great deal of time now, and I love that my only motivation is not me. That means there's that much more room for success. Of course, I want to be my authentic self, to be happy, to have my dreams because this is the only life I have. But it's also theirs too.

My goal is to have my girls grow up to see an example of a strong, driven woman, and to give them my whole self; the best I have to offer. Mediocre won't suffice for them. Mediocre won't suffice for me. I've allowed myself to be less than what I truly am for far too long, and this is not only doing a disservice to myself, but to them as well. That is not good enough.

I've been searching for balance in my life for years; balance between being a mother, that huge part of myself, and the rest of me, who struggles to be seen and heard. Balance between work and parenting, between giving and receiving, between all of the things a woman must juggle. This search has led me to an authentic search for myself. And while I've always had a good idea of who I am, that thing that we're made of, that core, continues to grow. We need to grow with it.

So, I love my kids. I really love my kids. And I love myself. That, when obstacles get in my way, and hardships hit my life, is what I keep coming back to. No matter how down on myself I get, and yes, that happens, I remember that I do value me. I value me and I value my daughters.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Identity

I was thinking this morning, as I prepared breakfast for my kids, changed diapers, and swept up the mess of cheerios on the floor, that a woman's identity can become rather complex.  I thought to myself, broom in hand, that this is not how I view myself - caregiver of young children, stay at home mom, changer of stinky diapers.  Though these are roles I fill all day long, almost every day of my life, how I see my actual self is very, very different.

From the outside looking in, if you were to just take a peek at my life, this is how you would view me:  a mom.  On any given day, when I am working and don't have to leave the house, I have my hair pulled back in a messy bun (usually without the effort of brushing it), no makeup, and clothes with all manner of kid stains on them.  You see me holding one of the babies in my care, or you see me trying to cook a meal with them at my ankles, demanding attention.  You see me clean, and expend all my energy caring for others.  You would identify me as a mother and caregiver...if you were to just take a glimpse.  That is what the vast majority of people in my life see, I think (unless you read my blog, of course). 

This role I fill is not what I believe I actually am.  Yes, I am a mother.  Yes, I am a caregiver.  But that isn't all of me.  As a matter of fact, that is just a small piece of my overall identity.  This morning the thought came to mind - this part of me takes up the vast majority of my life, but this is not all!  I am an artist.  I am a writer.  I am a scholar (correction, I want to be a scholar again).  Just because I have obligations, and children, and a job doesn't mean I have to give up those parts of myself that I really identify with.  My children are getting older.  My focus is in the direction I want my life to take.  Where your focus is, you will go (makes sense that you go in the direction you are looking, yes?).  The roles we fall into in life don't have to define us.  We choose our own identities, by where we put our focus and aspirations.  We define ourselves, if we are strong enough to do so.

I decided a long time ago that I wasn't going to let others define me.  I chose to stop being a victim of my circumstances.  I chose to live in forgiveness and pursue things I identified with.  Now, I find myself in a similar situation to the one I was in so many years ago, becoming an adult and breaking free of my childhood ties.  To anyone looking in, they see me wiping noses, washing dishes, and sweeping cheerios off the floor.  But, that's just the surface.  That's just the part of me that is living in and dealing with circumstance.  The other parts, so numerous, are there too, just below the surface, and it's by purposeful choice that they don't get buried under life.  Having children is a beautiful, wonderful experience, and I see so many moms get lost in that existence.  When their children grow up, they are left wondering what to do, and who they are.  I'm not going to be that mom (or at least, I'm really trying!).  My kids will benefit so much from me being more than just their mom.  They will have an example of ambition, desire, drive, and character.  They will have, hopefully, proof that if you want to be something, you will be.  They will know that others can't put any label on them.  Only we define ourselves.  Only we define our identities.

I will be honest and say that sometimes, I get confused about who I am.  Still.  But, at the core, I know and I feel it.  Yes, I am a mother.  And I think a pretty good one.  But, I am also an artist, a writer, a scholar, a teacher...and so many other things.  People aren't one dimensional.  I am not one dimensional.  I choose my identity.