My husband and I were out to dinner a few weeks ago — a treasured luxury as new parents — and through the course of conversation and shoveling food THAT WE DIDN’T MICROWAVE into our mouths, I paused to ask a question.
“Hey, have you noticed I don’t cry anymore?”
Now, before your brain dashes through a million scenarios pegging me as one of those girls who cries at the drop of a hat, or whenever she sees a kitten, or if a Coldplay song comes on at the wrong time, pleaseeeee check yourself.
I’m not emotionless. But I’m more practical than dramatic. My default setting is to talk or write through feelings, and it takes a great deal for me to cry in front of anyone. Meaning, if you see tears, shit has gotten real and you’re in for the long haul. However, if you are lucky enough to be married to me, besides essentially winning the life lottery, you see the good, the bad and the ugly–which in this case, is me crying. A lot. Spouses get all the unedited bonus scenes. The tears, sick days, meltdowns, bad moods, violent flip outs over laundry…amiright?
Wanna know my sweet husband’s response to this?
“Huh. Yeah, you don’t. Are you on a new medication or something?”
(It’s ok to laugh.)
But here’s the thing. I’ve made some big changes in my life over the past few months, and the combination, although largely unorthodox, has had a significant impact.
The first change was leaving Corporate America after seven years spent in three giant public companies. I relish the experiences I had, the crazy opportunities these roles presented and the amazing friends who entered my life. I’m grateful for the ways I was pushed and challenged to grow professionally and personally. But I was burned out and disenchanted. I made a transition into a smaller, non-profit setting and am so much happier. Is my new job perfect? Well, no job is perfect. I still have long, hard days and moments where I want to pull a Jerry McGuire exit. But I am so much more at peace. I’m more relaxed and connected to my work than I have in a long time.
The second change was prayer. Now if you know me, you’re possibly shocked to read these words. You may be composing a text to me that reads as follows: “Dude, are you ok? Are the Sunshine Carpet Cleaners there?” And truthfully, I’m still surprised to write this. I considered not sharing it with the blogosphere. But I don’t like censoring life and we’ve already gotten this far. Incorporating prayer into daily life brings me the kind of calm that I’ve always loved getting from meditation and yoga. It’s just more personal, and frankly, way more necessary as a mom. Prayer isn’t necessarily about religion to me, although it’s definitely connected to faith. It’s more just a way to focus, regain perspective, practice gratitude and soothe my wackadoo anxious tendencies. At the risk of sounding crass, it’s like a cozy, emotional security blanket.
And the third change? Brace yourselves. It’s been drinking Shakeology. At this point in the post I anticipate that I definitely have some concerned people poised to text me. But wait! Here’s what I mean. I first tried Shakeology to help support my immune system. Not to get bikini ready. Not to be a hot mom. Please. Barf. I have a baby in daycare and she is a germ sponge. Anyway, after trying these shakes and learning more about all the things they do for my body and health, I was sold. I’ve never felt better. It’s premium fuel you can consume. I was so taken by the product that I almost immediately became a coach so that I could learn more and share them with others. Coaching is incredible. I’m connected to an amazing network of women and am humbled everyday to see the ways we are able to help others work toward improved health and fitness. This isn’t about all the things you might think. It’s not about money or weight loss or marketing ploys. It’s about inspiring others to feel and look their best. I wrote more about my journey here.
So in summary, all you have to do to achieve true happiness is quit your job, pray and drink a superfood shake.
I kid. Sort of.
I genuinely don’t know that any of this makes much sense, but I’m going to hit post now and try to avoid oversharer’s remorse.