Honesty, or Strapping on My Skis

This past January, when I was about five weeks unknowingly pregnant, I went skiing for the first time ever.

My boyfriend's mother, her good friend, my boyfriend and I all traveled up north to some relatively tame slopes where I had three days to learn the skills and then embrace the slopes. I loved it.

I loved that I could learn something new and challenge myself. I loved feeling out of control and IN CONTROL at the same time. I loved that I could go from feeling like the slopes were scary to feeling like I could manage them, even have a blast on them.

When I returned from my trip, I had an appointment with my awesome therapist where we talked about how much I had loved skiing, feeling active and how in touch with my feelings I had been recently.

Here's my problem: I have a hard time being honest with myself about what I feel, and thus, I can't really be honest with the people in my life about my feelings or what I need from my relationships with them. I desperately want everything to be "okay," so I instead push down the feelings I would rather not have. This, of course, leads to problems: blow-ups with my boyfriend, resentment toward my parents, frustration with my friends... Honesty with myself about my feelings is something I have been working very hard on for the last several months.

Toward the end of our session, my therapist drew an analogy for me that I found inspirational, and that I've tried to adhere to since.

I should approach life like the difficult runs I experienced on some slopes. It's fun, it's fast, and there will be obstacles (patches of ice, unruly snowboarders, unplanned pregnancies...) along the way. If I keep my skis beneath me and stay aware of how I feel on them, I can gracefully handle each obstacle I encounter. A small adjustment here, a small movement there, and I can move effortlessly between these obstacles. But if I try to avoid or ignore the obstacle, I'll lose control. I might not fall right that very moment, but chances are pretty good that I will be flat out on my ass within seconds.

So instead of trying to ignore the things that upset me that I wish didn't, I am trying to be present and honest with my feelings. It's difficult. Especially now.

Right now I wish so badly that I just felt free and excited not to be pregnant. But I'm not just free or excited. I'm also sad and frustrated and scared. It occurred to me today, while reading what I wrote last night, that I was trying to ignore those less pleasant feelings. (Funny how keeping a blog can keep you accountable!)

In my update yesterday when I referred to my breasts' leaking as "annoying," I didn't really mean annoying. I mean that it's upsetting.

It's upsetting because I see and feel that change in my body, and I think about what it would be like to have a baby attached to my breast, to have that leaking milk feed and nurture the potential life that might have been realized. But when I think about that, I cry.

Ignoring that feeling, skipping the crying, was easier yesterday. I know that ignoring that sadness, denying its presence, would only create problems for me down the road. I also don't plan to relish in pain or sadness and torture myself either.

Instead, I will acknowledge the upset, stay present with it, and then let it go. I can glide past it--with perhaps a little bump or cry along the way--all while standing and secure on those skis, headed to the next exciting part of my journey.