finding joy and letting it go

Last year, walking away from stage managing was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

Ever.

It’s right up there with my divorce, that’s how much I love stage managing.  But I had to say goodbye.

I willingly walked away. Stage managing isn’t a reliable source of income. With My Littles to feed and house, I need a reliable source of income. So, I found a “normal” job.

This autumn, the opportunity to stage manage presented itself.  Before I accepted the gig, My Littles and I talked about it. We determined we would try it.  It was only six weeks, we can do anything for six weeks.

The show went up, ran, and closed.

For six weeks I was spread super thin. Leaving the house at 7 am and getting home after midnight, most days driving an hour between jobs to spend 20 minutes with My Littles.

It was hard.

Lots of fast food, no laundry, no quiet time.

Very little time with My Littles, my family, my guy.

When I walked away from stage management last year, I had thought part of intense sadness was that I wouldn’t see my friends.  I had made some wonderful close friends when I stage managed.  Going back, none of them were part of this production.  Yeah, I missed them, but I realized that my love of stage managing had nothing to do with those particular people.

I still love stage managing.

I had missed it so much.

So very much.

Way more than I thought I had.

Stepping back into that role made me realize exactly how much I missed it.

It was crazy stressful.

And I loved it.

My heart was full of joy.

Stage managing fills me with joy.

This should be the point where I say I’m going to follow my heart and figure out a way to keep that joy in my life.

But it’s not.  

Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve got responsibilities, three of them. 

My Littles.

Their happiness is much, much more important to me than my joy. 

They need me to be in their lives daily. 

The need me working a reliable job.

It’s what’s best for them.

And they come first.

Always.

They always come first.

This is not the first time that I’ve found joy.

This is not the first time I’ve let go of a joy because they come first, and it won’t be the last.

Experiencing tiny bits of joy is totally worth the hurt of letting them go.

I willingly, happily, choose to let go.

I happily choose to stay here. 

I happily choose to work a “normal” job. 

I happily choose to do what is best for them. 

Happily.

I never want them to think they’re holding me back from my joy.

They are my joy.

They hold my heart.

They will always be my Littles, long after they’re taller than me.

Always.

But,

the smallest Little will graduate high school in seven years.

So,  

In seven years, I’ll follow my joy.

In seven years, I’ll knock on doors and see who answers.

In seven years, I’ll pack my things and go.

Somewhere.

Until then,

I’ll kiss them goodnight

I’ll help with homework,

I’ll be here, exactly where they need me.

Happily.

pink hair, sparkles, and dress blacks

I am an introvert. 

I am perfectly happy alone. 

I need to be alone to recharge and find peace.

I spend most everyday surrounded by people. 

I work in an office with 800 other people.

Ermahgawd.

So many people.

Everyday.

seriously.

All the people.

Ugh.

I am good at my job. Really good at my job. At all my reviews, the only constructive criticism my supervisor had was that I could to work on on interpersonal skills. She knows I stage manage, she even has a pretty good idea of what that job entails. Over the last year she's figured out that I am capable of being not-quiet and introverted. 

Recently, I was given the opportunity to assist in training new hires to my department. My supervisor and I were talking about what I'd be doing as the "Subject Matter Expert" for the training and she made a point to let me know that it would be best if I could pretend be friendly and personable. We laughed about it.

I understood immediately.

I needed to be “stage manager Kristin.”

So I was.

For that week I was friendly, outgoing, personable and approachable. So much so that my co-workers wondered what had happened to me.

It was very tiring. It isn’t hard to be “stage-manager Kristin", I've been doing it for years. But it is very tiring.  There's a lot of effort that goes into being "stage-manager Kristin".

As soon as that training ended, I began training for a new position and spent the next four weeks in training.

I talked with the trainer a couple of times about careers and what-not; not surprisingly, he commented that I was very quiet and that it would behoove me to be more approachable and friendly.

So I was.

I flipped a switch and became “stage-manager Kristin."

I love surprising people with the drastic change in personality.  It's always such a surprise. It isn’t my natural state of being, but I can do it. 

I found that I like how people at the office respond to “stage-manager Kristin."

So, I've decided to be that Kristin at the office.

Everyday.

e-v-e-r-y d-a-y

Stage manager Kristin is a persona that I have to wear over my natural introverted self. It isn’t an easy thing to do. Stage-manager Kristin doesn’t get to hide in the back corner. 

She’s generally noticed and remembered.

I dislike being noticed.

I hate drawing attention to myself.

Hate. It.

But I can make it easier.

There are things I can do to be more comfortable in an uncomfortable situation.

For years I’ve tried to add color to my wardrobe.  I naturally gravitate towards colors (black) that don’t draw attention to myself.  I’ve tried to push my comfort zone out to be okay with wearing colors that aren’t black or grey.

Enough.

Done.

Don’t like doing it, not gonna.

At work I’m pushing my comfort zone so much in order to maintain the “stage-manager” Kristin, I don’t need to push anywhere else.

I don’t need to become the complete opposite of myself to get to where I want to be at the office.

So I’m going to be as much of myself as I can. 

Stage-manager Kristin.

In dress blacks.

With pink hair and sparkles.

Pretending to be confident even when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

Approachable and friendly.

Standing in first position.

Ready to take over the world.

Because that is Stage Manager Kristin.

it may snow on christmas

It’s almost Christmas.
Three more sleeps until Christmas.
Nine more days in this year.

Two days ago I closed my show.
My body decided since the show was closed it was okay to shut down and attempt to repare the neglect and abuses it’s tolerated for the past 2 months. Unfortunately I don’t have time to be sick. It’s only three more sleeps until Christmas, and I’m still working a 40 hour week at my day job.

Driving home tonight, slogging through the rain, all I could think about was how close Christmas is. How my lights aren’t up on the house and the tree isn’t decorated and how all the seasonal décor is still in festive green and red tubs.

The holidays aren’t easy for me. Haven’t been for a while. Life just seems to throw lemons at me in December.

This is not new news, it is just how it is. I’m used to it at this point. This season is actually not nearly as hard as the last few have been.

I’m not where I was.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, I’m not where I was.

Physically, I live in my almost perfect farmhouse. My almost perfect farmhouse. W’re learning each other’s quirks, and we’re falling in love.  Smitten.  Head-over-heels in love.

Mentally, I know where I am, I know where I want to be going, and I know what’s important to me.  I used to walk into a room and hope nobody noticed me. Now, I don’t give a damn if they notice, because it doesn’t matter.

Emotionally, I’m here. Here. Present. Experiencing life. Choosing to see the smiles and feel the hugs and ignore the dirty dishes and life piled everywhere.
 Tonight I walked in the door, exhausted, headachey, and freezing.  I opened the door and was floored by the waves of love that met me.

They decorated the tree.

I had told them they could, but didn’t really expect them to actually do it.  They were happy, cheerful, smiling, and they had decorated the tree.

And it is beautiful.
 This has been quite the year. Not as many tears this year. More smiles and laughing.
Which is good, very good.
And scary, so scary.

See, I don’t want a forever-someone. But, just because I don’t want  a forever someone doesn’t mean I need to hide my heart from someone who makes me happy now.

So.
I have a person.
I didn’t intend to have a person.
I really didn’t want a person.
I’ve tried my best to be as brutally honest as possible.

Yet, I still have a person.

A person I like.
A lot.
Some days I love him.

Not everyday.
Just some days.
 More importantly,
most significantly,
I realized that it’s okay to let him love me.
regardless of how I feel, it's okay to let him love me.

Simple, no strings, no long term plans.

Just enjoying life until it doesn’t work anymore.

Yes, it’s gonna hurt when it’s done.
 But I’m happy.
Happier than I’ve been for a while.

and my phone says it might be snow on Friday.

IT MIGHT SNOW ON CHRISTMAS.