Ugly Cry

No one takes a selfie at their worst.

After an amazing weekend at one of Anna’s retreats, I get back to the emails that piled up. Of which, these take me down a myriad of paths and one confusing struggle through Quickbooks in order to respond. Bills get opened, and a text comes in for something we need at the studio. The obligation to solve other people’s problems is thrusted into my afternoon of being back. My mind is transported to a few years ago when I walked out of my marriage. Memories flood in of a friend telling me how childish I was for not wanting to go to a party so things can be like the ‘good old days’. Those days when I catered to everyone but myself…

So I sit here with my hot cup of coffee hugged against my face and I ugly cry.

In truth, it was a beautiful cathartic cry. It was a vacillation of emotions. I was livid, hurt, and frustrated with my own inadequacies. The sun against my back, my only calming caress as I took the time to sort through these thoughts. Most of them garbage. But a lot were diamonds in the rough, just needing a good cut and polish.

These moments of high stress can be wonderful for the creative process only when there is a pressure release valve. Art was always the valve and it worked great up until I got out of high school and the worlds problems became even more complex. I felt I had to solve everything and keep people together while staying so composed. All. The. Time.

The art valve wasn’t enough.

Forming healthy friendships and connecting with more women has helped greatly. But most of all, recognizing in these darker moments that I do have my shit together. But, just because i’m carrying it doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy. Specifically, I can choose what to carry and what to send rolling down the hill.

In these moments of heavy emotion and tears is where I like to drop things off. I take it as a healthy sign that something has to go.