Today's Big Feelings Brought To You By...

Y'all. This picture makes me feel big feelings. 

This is my daughter, Lucy, walking into her very first day of preschool. It might not seem like a very big thing. A lot of kids walk into their very first day of preschool. It's not unique or uncommon. Maybe you took a picture of your little nugget doing the same thing today. But this picture makes me feel big feelings. 

When Lucy was born, she refused to sleep. She refused to be put down. She was very discontent and frustrated with this new world, and I thought to myself, "Sheesh, she's a tough newborn. I will be glad when she adjusts and gets on a sleep schedule." 

When she was about 8 months old, the nagging little twinge in my gut nudged me to ask a friend with a baby just a month older than Lucy, "Do you think Lucy's ok?" 

"Of course, Sara, she's fine. She's looking around and sitting up." But the voice wouldn't go away. 

When she was a year old, saying Dog, Dog, Dog, and no other words, not mama, or da-da, the nagging little twinge nudged me to ask my mom, "Do you think Lucy's ok?" 

"Yeah, I think she's fine." But the voice wouldn't go away. 

When Lucy was 18 months with just a couple of words, still struggling to sleep, to nap, to sit still, to play with toys the way that my mind kept reminding me that other kids played with toys, the nagging little twinge nudged me to ask her pediatrician, "Do you think Lucy's ok?" 

"She's fine. You just had an easy first baby. She'll sleep eventually. Have you tried patting her until she falls asleep?" But the voice wouldn't go away. 

When she was 2 and not putting words together or looking at books, still waking at night for hours at a time, eating only the same foods, watching the same episode of Mickey Mouse over and over, and having uncontrollable meltdowns for no discernible reason, the nagging little voice grew aggressive, and panicked, and certain, 

"Lucy is NOT fine." 

Around this time, I strong armed her pediatrician into an early intervention referral, and a stranger came to my home to assess my 2 year old. Her test scores were just borderline enough to recommend a full evaluation. So a few weeks later, a different stranger came. "She should see and ENT for those ear infections. But we can begin early intervention." 

"What are we looking at?" I kept asking questions. The professionals wouldn't give me answers, and Google gave me entirely too many. 

We saw the ENT. Lucy got ear tubes and had her adenoids removed. Maybe this would change everything. But several weeks later, when we went for her follow up and things weren't really progressing, the nagging little voice nudged me and I asked the ENT, "Do you think Lucy is ok?" 

"No, I think we're looking at something else here." The nagging little voice exhaled, because it knew we were, and finally someone was listening. 

We waited 6 months for our phone call that we could get our behavioral assessment done at Vanderbilt. There were bits and pieces of progress, but certain behaviors continued, and I became more and more certain of what we were dealing with for Lucy. When the day rolled around in February of this year, and the psychologist gently affirmed what I had known in my gut for 2 years, I was met with an odd swirl of emotions.

"We believe Lucy is on the Autism spectrum." She said it carefully, as if I was fragile and might break. She had no way of knowing that I had been in pieces for the last few years and her words were putting me back together. 

I asked about her prognosis. "We really don't know. She has strong adaptable skills. That's promising. But we can't tell you what her future will look like." We got in the car that day, and I felt the struggle of the last 36 months dissipate, while a new uncertainty settled into my stomach. "We don't know what her future will look like," the words played over and over in my mind. "But it's Autism," the little voice nudged. "We can find a road map for that." Determination.

Over the past 6 months, we've fought to get Lucy the intervention that she needed. She was denied services through the school system that we were zoned for, even with Vanderbilt's recommendations, so we asked for additional evaluations. "She stacks blocks appropriately. We see no need to provide services." 

And the little voice screamed, "SHE ISN'T FUCKING FINE!" 

She couldn't form sentences or answer questions. She couldn't tell you if she was hurting or what she had for lunch that day. She could quote entire scenes from a TV show but couldn't ask you where we were going in the car. She would strip naked if a drop of water got on her dress and panic if you tried to make her sit on the toilet. She couldn't understand simple directions and she swirled through life like a small cyclone. My heart shredded into bits one night when I was rocking her, wrestling her to sleep, and she sat up, looked into my eyes, and, as if she had seen me for the first time in her life said, "Hi momma." And then, as quickly as it opened, the door between us shut again. No. This isn't fine. Nothing about this is fine.

So we began searching for private therapy services. We've visited a neurologist, tried medications, taken her off medications because they destroyed our girl, and began holistic treatments. We're seeing amazing progress. And then we moved. And HALLELUJAH, PRAISE THE LORD, we're in a new school system that said the most beautiful words that have been spoken over her life thus far, "Lucy's scores qualify her for FULL INTERVENTION SERVICES." 

So my little girl walked into preschool today. Her first day of FULL INTERVENTION SERVICES. And I am having all of the big feelings about this. Feelings of hope and relief and gratitude. 

Y'all. Lucy is spectacular. She's funny and adorable and she gives the most incredible hugs on the planet. She is full of life and energy and spunk. She is zeal and tenacity and delight. Sometimes she is curious. Often, she is exhausting. Her strong will, the same strong will that will one day keep her from getting trampled on, currently pets all of my peeves. She likes routine and movement. Sometimes she comes undone. Last night, was the worst of all of the undones we've ever experienced with our girl. There was literal blood, sweat, and tears, and as she melted down, I had my first ever honest to goodness panic attack. But she's progressing. And she's in preschool, right now, getting full services, services that will help her to understand her world, and give her the words to tell us all about it. With the help of these special souls working with her, she has the ability to find the skills that she needs to fully do life. 

Today, finally, with all of the hope and a tiny bit of cautious hesitation, 

the little voice said, "Lucy is going to be fine." 

Walk Softly and Carry a Big Stick

*This is a repost from the blog that I kept while I was going through my divorce days and finishing graduate school. It was originally posted in 2010.*

There's a scene in the Swiss Family Robinson where a zebra is stuck in quicksand struggling to get out. The two oldest sons and the girl that they rescued from the pirates spend a while trying to get the animal out of the muck until finally the zebra is freed. Then, because what else would you do with a zebra, they ride it home. Obviously.

This scene popped into my head this week while I was doing therapy with a client. I may not have mentioned on here, but I'm neck deep in my grad school internship at the moment, which means that several days a week I sit across from people on a one on one basis and watch as they pour out their guts, cry out their eyes, and generally make sense of their issues. I LOVE IT. For awhile I felt like all of the brokenness in my life meant that I was a failure. Now I just think God will use the brokenness by letting me watch (and hopefully using me) as he heals the brokenness of others. It's a humbling experience, to say the least, but I'm incredibly excited for this next phase of life. Anyway, I was working with a client this week and she was describing something that many describe when they are faced with struggles. She felt stuck. Her world was crashing down on her. She was sinking. And no matter what, she felt there was no way out.

I found myself during the session picturing the zebra in the quicksand, struggling to get free and sinking down even farther. And because I have also been in this stuck...world crashing down...no way out place, I knew the feeling of despair that sits on your soul when you are there. So that day, when I got home, I googled "how to get out of quicksand." The result was shockingly therapeutic. There are a couple of different lists out there with various bullet points of helpful hints. My favorite is "walk softly and carry a big stick," because really...how many things can you not solve by walking softly and carrying a big stick. Damn near nothing.

But the basics of quicksand survival are as follows:

1. Remain Calm
2. Shed excess weight
3. Keep as still as possible until your feet reach solid ground
4. Move or swim with slow, deliberate motions.
5. Work in the direction of the last known bit of solid ground.
6.Pull yourself out.

As I read through this list, it seemed so fitting for these places in life where we struggle and feel nothing but sinking dread and despair. I thought about times in my life when I didn't know the answers, couldn't hear God's guiding, felt angry or confused, and generally wanted to give up, throw in the towel, call it a day, or take my ball and go home. What would happen if I had simply:

Remained calm: reminded myself that in this moment I was breathing in and then breathing out with perfectly timed rhythm...that right here, right now, I am O.K...

Shed excess weight: cast aside the things that were weighing me down...said no to overwhelming commitments, asked for help, called a friend, or asked God to bear the burden...

Kept as still as possible: not made decisions out of fear, waited for God's timing, been patient with the possibilities, asked for understanding, or prayed for confirmation and wisdom...

Moved with slow deliberate motions: lived intentionally instead of reactively, moved forward with purpose, been driven by a spirit of direction instead of chaos...

Worked toward the last known bit of solid ground: remembered God's real presence in my life and invited that back to me instead of floundering on my own, centered my spirit instead of living in urgency, allowed God to find me instead of looking, hunting, scavenging...

Pulled myself out....by the arms of grace instead of by my own will...

What would have happened? And what might happen in the future if when I'm stuck, sinking, floundering, and the world is crashing down that I remember these tips for survival? Will the muck and the mire win?

Or, like the zebra, will I find myself safely heading home?

5 Questions that Could Change Your Marriage

There's a question that I often ask in the first session of couples therapy, and it almost always results in the couple looking at me the same way I looked at my Algebra II teacher all of junior year.

"How connected do you feel to each other?" 

It really shouldn't be a hard question, but our society isn't really set up to think this way, and it certainly isn't doing a great job of teaching people to communicate this way. It never fails that when I ask a couple how they communicate about their connection, they respond with, "we don't." 

Houston, we have a problem. 

Perhaps it's because I often see couples when they are dealing with crisis and hard times, (or maybe it has something to do with how familiar I am with divorce), but over the years I've come to place great value on keeping a pulse on my marriage. I started to notice themes in the communication deficits that my clients were experiencing. I began asking my husband certain questions to gauge how well our relationship was thriving, and in turn he would ask me the questions as well. This led to discussion, which led to increased efforts or slight tweaks that made our connection more intimate and our marriage more solid. These questions have become a way of life for us, and I want to share them with you.

5 Questions that Could Change Your Marriage

1. How connected do you feel to me? 

You might get an Algebra look at first, but with some additional context, your partner should be able to respond to you. "You matter to me and I want us to be as strong as possible, so I'm curious if you feel as connected to me as you want to, and if not let's figure out what we need to do differently." Maybe you have gotten a little bit lost in the daily grind of life, or maybe you just haven't made much quality time for one another, but it's pretty easy to experience disconnects in our relationships. By shining a spotlight on this aspect of your relationship, you will create normalcy around addressing disconnecting and shoring up intimacy. Checking in with each other occasionally in this matter causes you both to be more intentional about protecting your marriage. 

2. What do you need tonight?

Sometimes after a long day, we need a little time to recharge in order to show up and be our best selves. Maybe we need some alone time to decompress. Maybe we need some quality time with our spouse. It's possible that we need to get the kids in bed and then spend time on a personal hobby or reading a good book. Maybe we need to get rid of some energy with some great sex, or we might need to be quiet with a glass of wine. Whatever the answer is to that question, being intentional about checking in with each other to see what we need for the night provides incredible amounts of safety and communicates that we care about supporting each other. If I have a wildly shitty day and Jonathan asks me what I need for the evening, I instantly feel 1. that he has my back and 2. that it's ok for me to be a little bit messy and need things. By asking your partner what they need, you're saying "I care about meeting that need and I am here for you." Who couldn't use more of that?! 

3. What do you need to do to take care of yourself?

Self Care. We all need it! By asking your partner what they need to do to take care of themselves, you are creating space for them to recharge and communicating that you are invested in them as a whole person. It doesn't take long for daily life to get exhausting, especially if you have jobs, and kids, and a list of obligations and bills and to-dos that you have to take care of. To be whole and healthy, we have to take time to self care, and having a partner that will encourage you to do so is such a gift. By asking them what they need to do for themselves, we are intentionally making room for both of us to self care. When my husband answers "I need to get away and play golf," I can happily encourage him to do so, because last week when I said "I need to go have dinner and drinks with my friends," he held down the fort so that I could. A mutual focus on self care makes us better people and better partners. 

4. What would you change about our sex life? 

Having a solid sex life is a vital part of connection and intimacy within a marriage. If you have it, it's sort of like icing on the marital cake, but if you don't, one or both of you could end up feeling starved. By intentionally asking questions about your partner's level of sexual fulfillment, you're communicating that you care about what they need and that it's a priority to you to make adjustments. You might need a frequency change, more spontaneity, more passion, quality over quantity, or simply the ability to say "not tonight" without it being taken as rejection. By periodically checking in on your sex life and working together to make adjustments, you create stronger sexual safety in your relationship and show your partner that you value that intimate connection that you share. 

5. What do you need from me that I'm not doing? 

If we're brave enough to ask this question, we have to be strong enough to stomach the answer. Criticism, even when it is constructive, can be tough to swallow, but it's so important to be pliable in relationships. The whole point of a relationship is to meet each other's needs, to be "their person," and to know that your person has your back. By checking in to see how we could step up our game, we communicate "I do have your back. I am your person. Your needs matter to me." We may have to swallow our pride on this one and learn to be more appreciative or less nagging. And our partner may need to hear that we need more support or to have the romance cranked up just a bit. It may be tough to take, but by creating space for this conversation, we also create space for stronger connection. It's worth it! 

Why Rewired Woman

Several years ago, my life came undone. It was horribly painful and embarrassing, and I felt like a huge failure. The abridged version is that I was a twice divorced, single mother before the age of 30. And to make the shame so much more consuming, I was in graduate school to become a therapist. The irony of these two life-defining moments was not lost on me for a second. I began my counseling internship just a small handful of days after the finalization of my second divorce. As I sat down across from my very first client, feeling like I might vomit onto her feet, she stared at me wide-eyed and seeking wisdom, and all I could think was, "what fresh hell is this?" 

But y'all. I opened my mouth and wisdom came out. I know, right?! It shocked the hell out of me too! 

She needed to know how to love herself, and I knew what to tell her. She wanted to know how to manage her anxiety, and I handed her tools. She needed help setting boundaries with her family, and I knew what that was! Somewhere along the way, everything that I had been studying in school collided with all of the jagged pieces of my life, and it all started to make sense. Over the course of my internship, so many young women sat across from me and asked the same questions. "Why is it so hard to love myself?" "How come everyone has this figured out except me?" "Will anyone ever love me?" 

Over the course of the last 6 years in private practice, I've realized that women of all ages struggle with the same questions and longings. We are so much more alike than different. We desire to be known and seen. We struggle to feel that we are enough, that we matter, that we have value. We struggle with feelings of obligation and resentment over being used up or not considered. We want to be heard and respected, but often feel overlooked or walked upon. We struggle to stay calm in the midst of deep emotional triggers, and we want so badly to get closer but are often scared to let ourselves be vulnerable. 

As I have continued my therapeutic training, and worked with people in a variety of stressful life situations, I have also seen a transformation in my own life. I truly feel like a Rewired Woman. Before I began walking intentionally towards health and balance, I was a pinball, reacting to whatever emotion I bounced off of, and chaotically clanging around in the world with no discernible path or trajectory. I was exhausted, ashamed, and I felt so terribly alone. After doing my healing work, I am a different person. I focus on staying balanced, on maintaining and building safe and intentional connections with loved ones, on processing my emotions and deciphering my needs, and on communicating in a way that fosters peace in my life and in the lives of others. 

Rewired Woman is a program that I am putting together to help other women find their balance in life, my truest passion. It is a guided workbook experience that incorporates the tools that I used to find my most authentic self, combined with a therapeutic framework that supports healthy connection and self love. My desire is to create a safe community of women who will encourage each other to seek their best selves and live their best lives, to grow peace instead of chaos, and to create the lives they've dreamed of living. 

A few years ago, I was eyeball deep in shame. Surely I was far too broken to be useful or lovable. 

This is horsecrappery from the pits of hell. 

Shame is just a story that you haven't yet owned.  I now own my stories, every single, scandalous little detail. I will read them with pride, because they made me who I am. 

Restored. Renewed. Rewired.