In which my eyes open even more widely than ever

I realize that I have squandered much of my life in fear of being judged to be inadequate.  Worse:  I tiptoe around the admission that I myself believe that I am inadequate.  I am astonished when goodness finds me because I don’t expect that it will and I accept the impossibility.  Conversely the lack of goodness in my life does not surprise me.  I don’t feel that I deserve anything.

When people express the depth of their disgust for me, the disappointments that I have visited upon them, I accept responsibility.  I have no trouble believing the accusations of my treachery and betrayal.  Am I not defective?  Am I not too short, too fat, too thin, too weak, too grey, too narrow-minded, too bossy, too lame?  Yes, all of that in turns; and I bow my head and let the coals rain down, paying no heed to the smoldering embers falling around me.

But having Jessica and Jenny in my life has given me pause; and so, too have I been prompted to re-evaluate my worth by Vivian, Pat, and Jane, and Brenda;  and others:  Jenna, my cousin Theresa, Kati in the country, Penny and Katrina, and even that brat Miranda! And those ladies at World’s Window, who held me one day last summer when I sobbed, even though they do not know me.  Them, too.

These women do embrace me; they do praise me.  They accept that I make mistakes but they celebrate my complex being.  Never before have I had a tribe, a group of women who form a circle with me, around me, under me, a gossamer rippling blanket into which I can fall when I am weary.

It sounds corny, I suppose, but these women have drawn me to open my eyes — wide, then wider, first with the shock of recognition and then with the wild crazy wonder of that semi-hysterical moment just before you throw all caution to the wind and go for Mimosas at noon or Baileys and coffee over Tuesday breakfast.  My eyes have been wide but now they are open even wider and I think the light which comes into them shines from the circle of this, my tribe, the women who sustain me.

 

7 thoughts on “In which my eyes open even more widely than ever

  1. Susan Jeffay

    To me, you are more than adequate, you are a marvel, an elegantly woven silk scarf tossed across a shoulder of humor, intelligence and compassion. A twinkle in your eye of fun and a furrow in your brow that tells us life hasn’t always been roses but the love you share towards others and the passion for your friends transcends the coldness of social media, and although the years have passed when we shared, I still feel like I know you; and I am proud to consider you my friend.
    I admire your fortitude and persistence, your abundant collection of treasured friends and your open heart which reaches out to those surrounding you. I stand humbled by the career you chose which has supported and accomplished milestone for the clients who came to you for your insight and diligence throughout their cases. Your service, though often forgotten in the heat of the moment, has life-long lasting impact on the families you served. You have changed lives in numbers and if that isn’t adequate, I’d like to know what is!
    A parent, a wife, a friend: you have done it all and with your usual grace, dignity and uniqueness: like the fine china tea cups your mother had; delicate yet ever interminably, loved.

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  2. ccorleyjd365 Post author

    And the broader lesson that I have learned from the joy of tribal membership? True friends stand by you, thick or thin, and shower you with their goodness — making it so much easier not to complain about those who cut and run!

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  3. Pat

    As I have said before, you have many friends who support you because they all know that it is always a two-way street. I know you are someone I could always call on when needed and you would be there in a heartbeat. Quite frankly, I have never really felt I was deserving of your friendship and have always been thankful that we found each other.

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