This past weekend was my birthday. It was also Brooklynne's birthday party, which made for a whirlwind week of frantic cleaning, and preparation, and really quality family time. My mom and my two youngest siblings rolled into town on Monday, and got right to work on my humble abode. I've been living in some state of construction for the past year. It's been a learning experience, to say the least, as well as absolutely crazy making. Jackie and Brooke live here, so they were the gophers for the countless DIY projects and Target runs. Jill arrived on Wednesday, and that's when the place got it's facelift. She has a way of just making everything that much more beautiful. My mother in law literally took off of work to hang curtains she made for my guest room, in preparation for two of my dearest friends to arrive on Friday.
Catherine, Sarah and I met when my family moved to Baltimore. We all attended a small boarding school called St. Timothy's. We were day students, so in our minds, the numerous rules and regulations just didn't really all the way apply to us. Well, to Catherine and I. Sarah's nickname is Nana, because she always was a rule follower to the letter, and would sort of "tisk-tisk" at our devil-may-care attitudes. We had this group of friends that sort of became this untouchable entity. We called ourselves The 3-6 (in the English school system, 3's are freshman and 6's are seniors,) and our group spanned the whole of those years. It was such a weird place, and such an odd time in our lives, but for some reason it all worked. Our personalities couldn't be more different, and really, I'm certain if it weren't for St. Tim's we wouldn't have even given each other a chance. Something about it being all girls just really took the pressure off and let us really see into each other. We let ourselves learn each others' idiosyncrasies, and fears, and dreams, and just really grew up and into each other. It was such a formative time for all of us, and I came to Baltimore so jaded and broken without even really knowing it. I thought I was just upset about leaving Chicago, the only home I'd ever known, but I was teetering on the edge of such overwhelming sadness, I didn't really know how I was going to get out. I didn't realize it happening then, but every time I did something out of my comfort zone, or shared something that hurt me, or laughed really really hard and meant it, I was being put back together. Those girls, and that time changed me and healed me in ways I can't even describe. A teeny piece of my heart will always be in Baltimore, more specifically, at St. Tim's.
As excited as I was to have them, I was worried about what they would think. Even though these girls know my deep, dark stuff, I was nervous about swinging open my doors and my unfinished bathrooms and saying "this is it, I hope it's enough." My mom said, in the very nicest way, "Kristen, no one cares! They're not going to judge you. Quit freaking out!" It hurt my feelings, but it also let me step back from the ledge of manic for a little bit. I whined and complained about what wouldn't be done in time, or what didn't look just right, and then I let those words seep into my soul in a truly life changing, heartbreaking way. I realized a life on hold, or a life removed, is not the life I want to be living anymore.
When the girls arrived, we were all squeals and giggles, and caught up over drinks. We went to aunt's house for what turned into my birthday party on Friday, and had a wonderful time. I was so happy to be with them, and I could feel my shoulders leaving my ears, and the worry starting to fade. Oddly enough, they hadn't met Cooper yet, and he and I happened to be in one of those cold war stand-offs, but by Saturday, they were joking and laughing, so even that didn't really matter. There was a point in the morning on Saturday right before the party, when Sarah was mopping my floor and Catherine was scrubbing my range. It really took my breath away. It said to me that these were my girls, these were my people. And it also said that I'm the only one that suffers when I withdraw and pull away because I'm not thrilled with what life looks like. After the party, which was a wonderful success just as my mom said it would be, the girls and I drank and cried and laughed hysterically, and Cooper joined in (strictly as a spectator.) We circled around deep wounds and the need for each other, and vowed over and over that we needed to do this MUCH more often. I think Cooper conked out around the group hug portion of the evening, and we followed soon after.
We gathered to celebrate Father's Day at Jackie's the next morning, and then we were off to the airport. We were sad to say good bye, but more energized by being together and having that time to be high school girls again. Driving away from the airport with a few tears, I told Cooper that I thought I was finally getting it. I'm finding people don't super love squeaky clean; they don't like getting to the heart of a person, and finding there's really nothing going on in there. Every every EVERYONE has things they'd like to keep concealed. But that's not doing life together. That's even more stressful than being alone- pretending Facebook life is your everyday normal is exhausting. Those girls loved on Brooklynne like I knew they would, and Catherine cut her leg on my unfinished bathroom knobs, and lived to tell the tale. It was perfect.
As a birthday gift to myself, I've decided this will be my year to let it go. I don't want to stress over what's not right, I don't want to stay away just because everything isn't just so, and I want to reach out to my friends and family and be okay with help. I've fought help every step of the way, which really means I've fought love and kept it at arms length for far too long. At St. Tim's, the school motto is "Verite sans Peur," which translates from the French to mean "Truth without Fear." I want that. I want to be vulnerable and at peace and content with the truth of my life, and to leave the fear and worry and self doubt behind. I'm leaving that in the rearview and looking forward to a new way of thinking and being.
I'm so grateful for this weekend- the laughs and the tears, the lessons learned and moments shared, and the family and friends I really can't be without.
Happy Birthday to me. I'm sure 27 will be my very best year yet.
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