I'm My Worst Client

Since starting my program, I play the game of "what would I tell myself if I was my client" a lot.

I've come to the conclusion I hope I never have a client like me.

I'm all about letting go of things you can't control. And in 90% of my life, I would say I excel at that philosophy.

But there are certain things. Certain texts I wish someone would send. Certain calls I wish someone would make. Certain words I wish someone would say.

And no matter how much I ask the universe for those things, I can't control them.

I know this, and yet I still have to intentionally shut down those thoughts more often than I would like.

I'm craving a little direction today. A little "here is what you should do and here is what you should feel." A little "I'm here and you didn't have to ask."

Wanting someone to be there and being unwilling to ask for it is one of my least favorite traits in a person. And yet on some days, I find that philosophy dominating my thoughts.

I try to think about whether or not it is realistic to be willing to let go of things I can't control all of the time, or if I would tell myself (as a client) that a 90% is pretty OK and it's normal to feel this way sometimes.

Where does being kind and gentle to yourself end and self-indulgence begin?

How Different?

How different can two people be and still be friends?

I've just caught up with my childhood best friend. She's a beautiful person and still someone who knows how to call me out on my bad decisions. We've seen each other grow up, though from a distance over the last 10 years. From the days we were attached at the hip in middle school, we somewhere took some drastically different paths.

I've always felt (and still do) that we each chose the kind of life that was right for us. Our differences have always been part of the strength of our friendship, but is that sustainable?

Is there a point where the queer sex-positive feminist and the youth pastor can no longer really speak the same language?

She has always served to remind me that Christians are not just those people who hate my kind of people and want us to burn in hell.

But at the same time, I've never had the courage to ask whether or not she thinks my future partner and I should be able to get married. Be able to have kids together. I've never had the courage to ask what she will tell her future children about me. Never had the courage to ask if she has or would defend me if the opportunity arose. I think I don't ask because I'm afraid to know the answer. Afraid that the crazy journey of life has led me to a place in which I lose one more important person in my life just because I'm trying to live as an authentic version of myself.

And maybe sometimes I think of her as the kind of woman with the kind of life that would make mine a lot easier. I wouldn't have to spend so much time worrying and crying about the fact that one day, my mother may very well lose her family and friends when they find out I'm a lesbian. I wouldn't have to carefully hide parts of myself and dodge questions.

I'm trying to think about what I would say as a SW to a client talking to me about the same problem. I would tell her that a friendship in which you dodge important questions maybe isn't such an authentic friendship after all. I would tell her she knows what's best, but maybe she should think about just asking her. I would tell her she isn't doing anything wrong. That the loss of people in her life is the fault of others and not her own. I would tell her its so hard and its not fair, but there are so many people in the world who want her to be happy and don't think she's defective even a little.

This post has wandered, but that's just where I am right now. A little lost.

Where Should It Go?

My focus, I mean.

Do I tell myself to keep my head in the books and my heart on a short leash?

Or do I let myself live with some sort of reckless abandon for whatever experiences may come my way?

I didn't mean to end things with N to find things with someone else.

So what does it mean if I'm developing a serious crush?

What does it mean if I don't know what I want...only what I never want to feel again?

What does it mean if I get distracted from the goals I should be pursuing in the search for my bigger and better happy?

Is there enough to go around?

If not, where should it go?

A Semester In Review

Remember how I was going to blog all about the process of moving home and starting graduate school and maintaining my sanity?

Well then the life I planned to write about actually started to happen.

And there was so much LIVING to do, and too little time and too many words to ever sit down and follow through.

But it's Christmas night now, and I have the time.

The basics? I'll remember this semester as one of new beginnings. I ended my relationship of almost two years because I decided to take the risk of finding a bigger and better happy. It had become, for me, a relationship of just barely enough. I decided I deserved a relationship that overflowed.

I met this group of friends that I feel like I've known my whole life. I remember someone telling me that college is where you meet your bridesmaids. Well, except for B.W., I can't say that was true for me. Yes, I met some absolutely amazing women and made meaningful friendships, but never in the way I thought I would. But grad school? It's been like another chance. These friendships I'm building feel like home, and I can't explain enough how much it feeds my soul.

Living with my parents? Actually pretty awesome. Home cooked food, minimal bills, and mom snuggles when I'm sick. Now that I'm back on the single scene, I feel it cramping my dating style a bit, but that's nothing a little ingenuity can't solve!

Oh, and school. That big thing I'm paying all the money for. It is what it is. Great? Maybe not. Good enough? Definitely. It's a means to an end.

I saw one more baby come into the world since the last time I wrote here. An exquisite labor with a scary birth. It was an experience that taught me a lot about myself as a person, a doula, and a social worker. I hope I never have another experience like it, but I'm thankful I got to experience it and that mom and baby are happy and healthy now.

Here's to a semester of figuring out life a bit more. And figuring out this whole keeping up with a blog thing a LOT more.

Dawn

The months of waiting turned into days at some point last week, and as of today, have become mere hours. 48 hours until I move back home. 72 hours until I start orientation for my graduate fellowship.

Almost all of my stuff has been moved home and I've done the best I can to transform the room my crib was in to something that seems appropriate for a graduate student. It's not easy.

When I sit and let myself try to soak it in-the joy of having what I called in my head "the goal" for so long become a reality in just a few short days, the sadness of no longer being able to wake up each morning next to the love of my life, the anxiety of starting somewhere new, I feel wildly overwhelmed. As if there is not enough room in my heart to accommodate so many emotions at one time, especially when each one seems more vivid than any I've ever felt before.

So many intellectual issues press on me related to babies and social work, my brain loves, but for the time being, my heart is the only thing I can hear talking.

Some Other Beginning's End

College graduate. I've got to get used to the sound of that. Along with my graduation, news of work study and grad fellowship employment have rolled in, making me feel a bit less suffocated by the amount of loans I've taken.

My friends from undergraduate are literally moving all around the world. Seattle, Germany, Chicago, New York, North Carolina, Atlanta. Seriously the list goes on and on. I'm trying to remember that moving back home isn't a failure for me, but rather a smart decision while I pursue a degree from that prestigious school of mine. It's sometimes hard to buy.

All that is between me and beginning this next step is an online statistics course, a move, and a last summer of freedom. Here's to naps and afternoon cocktails.

Coming together

Seven days until graduation.

Six weeks until my online statistics class begins.

3.5 months until my graduate education begins.

2 years until I'm an MSW.

Life is getting real.

I got a graduate fellowship at my University, which makes me feel so much better about the logistics of surviving graduate school with little income and lots of loans. Let's just hope this all ends up as well as it seems it's going.

Paying it...at all

The social worker in me loves the idea of paying it forward, but right now, that is overshadowed by something looming much larger-paying tuition.

The fancy program I'm going to has the top ranking, the bells and whistles, and probably gold-encrusted diplomas-all which comes at a high price. I received a scholarship, which is great and all, but just a drop in the bucket of the 70 grand or so it's going to take me to get my MSW.

I'm doing everything I can think of to make it more affordable. I'm applying to grad assistantships like no one's business. I actually emailed admissions and asked them to reconsider my scholarship. I'm pinching pennies and reacquainting myself with Ramen.

Here's to hoping some more moolah falls from the sky in to this poor baby social worker's hard working lap.

It's Getting Very Real

During the last week or so, I've made some serious progress in making this whole "I'm going to move back in with my parents and become a social worker" thing real.

I paid my enrollment fee to WUSTL, registered for orientation, rejected my other acceptances, did my loan counseling (for the omgz 8 million dollars of debt I'm about to put myself into), and started cleaning out my childhood bedroom so it's more suitable for grownup me to live in.

I've been taking a step back from my doula training lately. There is just so many other things happening right now and I don't feel like I could devote myself to a client the way I think is right. I missed the birth of my last client, and I hated how that felt. I don't want to put myself in that position again. I'm trying to stay immersed in the birthing community through my academic research and blog reading in my spare time, but I do miss the feeling of actually working with a family.

The next few months will be an interesting time for me as I start to make all the steps necessary to making this dream a reality. Let's hope there are more highs than lows...