I was driving around last week with donations in my back seat because isn’t that what we do? We gather the things, we put them in the car where we’ll see them and remember to drop them off \u2014 but first they need a little adventure. So there I was, running errands in the most chaotic order possible, trying not to backtrack, holding the entire mental map of my day in my head \u2014 and then I hit a pothole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From the back seat: “YOU’RE A WINNER!”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Evelyn’s toy. Perfectly timed. Completely unprompted. I laughed out loud alone in my car and kept driving, because that’s about as much affirmation as I’ve had time to absorb lately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This past weekend I pulled off Nick’s surprise 40th birthday party. I got his family from Virginia and Buffalo to show up without him knowing. The last time that group had all been together was 2004 when he graduated from high school. Twenty-one years. And here we were, all in one place, for his 40th. It was everything. It was also an enormous amount of invisible, incognito, behind-the-scenes work that only I know the full scope of \u2014 which if you’ve been reading along, you already know is kind of my specialty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The days after hosting looked like what SpongeBob’s brain looks like in that one episode where a tiny version of himself is running around removing everything but knowledge of fine dining. I have therapy tomorrow. THANK GOD. My period is due in seven days, which explains the moments of wanting to cry and the self-sabotage spiral that has been quietly running in the background.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The last of the out-of-town family left Monday morning. Then came party cleanup, returning everything I’d borrowed, reorganizing, and back to life \u2014 which immediately included a teenager who decided to host a spontaneous camping sleepover. She found out quickly that hosting is hard. I refused to step in. When teenagers tell you they’re tired, it is very difficult to find sympathy. Yes, we’re both exhausted. Yes, it’s self-induced. But they have no concept of the mental weight parents carry. None.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And the real catch? I put everything back. Returned the borrowed items. Reset the space. And I have exactly two weeks before I do it all again for Evelyn’s 4th birthday on July 25th. There is no actual recovery period. There is just the next thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Right now I am sitting outside at 10am trying to write while Evelyn plays in a dirt pile in her bathing suit because the freshly filled kiddie pool is, apparently, too cold for her liking. I just watched her walk up and announce she wants to go inside to relax now \u2014 because the teenagers are inside and clearly that’s where the real action is. Meanwhile I am contemplating whether the cold water would be a valid reset for the anxiety quietly building as I map out my day with no input on when the extra three girls in my house are returning to their own domains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When she goes down for a nap I won’t actually rest. I’ll catch up on my side gig. I’ll catch up on blog work. I’ll reset a house that has been entertaining for days. That’s the nap. That’s the recovery. That’s what the quiet looks like.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And underneath all of the noise, something is getting louder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I am not happy with where my body is right now. I have been fighting the same plateau since I stopped breastfeeding Evelyn three years ago. Here is what I am doing: I lead with protein. I get my fiber. I lift weights. I went the hormone recovery route. I have worked with my OBGYN to manage my sleep and find balance with HRT. I go to counseling. I am doing ALL of the things.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And I am still stuck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I spoke with my OBGYN and she agreed \u2014 a GLP-1 adjacent medication might be a good kickstart. Something to help get over the hump so the work I’m already doing can actually gain traction. She agreed. My body agreed. And then my insurance said no. The only option my provider can offer is Phentermine \u2014 a stimulant that isn’t compatible with my PVCs or the HRT balance I’ve worked so hard to find. So the answer is essentially: keep doing what you’re doing and accept that it isn’t working.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Why is being a woman so hard?<\/p>\n\n\n\n The system will tell you to do everything right and then decline to help when you’ve done exactly that. My doctor sees the full picture. My body is telling me something. And the insurance company gets to override both. That is not a willpower problem. That is a women’s healthcare problem. And I am tired of pretending it’s the same thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nick encouraged an impromptu trip with Emily to Boston that came up \u2014 a high school friend offered and he said go. I am trying to clear my brain out and actually let myself enjoy something that is just for me before I walk out that door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Summer has felt like a whirlwind. The incognito birthday planning. The out-loud planning. School ending. The lake trip. The surprise party. One more birthday. The Aquarian in me is desperately fighting the urge to disconnect entirely. Unplug. Disappear. Reset.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But I’m still here. Still sitting in the dirt next to a toddler who thinks the pool is too cold and the inside is more relaxing. Still writing. Still doing the side gig. Still catching up. Still resetting the house. Still showing up every week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I am good at what I do. I am a winner. I just wish my body would afford me that reward of physically looking the part.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What’s something your body has been telling you that the system keeps refusing to hear? Drop it in the comments. I think it’s time we talked about this.<\/em> \ud83d\udda4<\/p>\n\n\n\n P.S. \u2014 If you’re doing all the things and still hitting a wall, you’re not broken. The system is just not built for us.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I was driving around last week with donations in my back seat because isn’t that what we do? We gather the things, we put them in the car where we’ll see them and remember to drop them off \u2014 but first they need a little adventure. So there I was, running errands in the most […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-519","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-life-lately"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/519","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=519"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/519\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":520,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/519\/revisions\/520"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=519"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=519"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=519"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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