We Cling to Our Burdens

And as we let each one go, we are finally able to climb

Every decade has released one of the burdens I clung to in my life. Some were imaginary, some were real. At no time in all those years did I understand that they were burdens until I let them go and learned to climb.

20 I was probably the happiest any woman has ever been to assume a new last name as I married. Wasn’t even worried about what my new name would be, which is good since it was nearly unpronounceable and completely unspellable by Americans. Shedding the last name given to me at birth was the first step to releasing the burden that was my father’s shadow — as long as I had his name, I couldn’t escape him.

30 At 30, I stopped deferring to my husband, and he found that unacceptable. He finally told me why he was so angry all the time, saying, “You used to think I was right, but now you think I’m wrong about everything.” It was me growing into my own opinions, my own self. It was really hard on him, apparently. I gave him a tiny little crystal pig and told him that’s how he was acting. Didn’t help the situation at all, but made me feel better.

40 The age of 40 was when I finally realized I did not have to please everyone, and I didn’t have to be liked by everyone around me. I realized finally that the early-begun, lifelong indoctrination of girls and women that tells us we must be sweet, we must get along, we are not allowed to speak up, raise our hands, get angry, or brag on ourselves is well, stupid.

50 A few short years before my 50th birthday, I got up on the morning of January 1. This is that moment in my life where a new beginning was hidden very deeply under a traumatic ending. Looking down at my husband sleeping, I thought, “I’d rather die alone than live with you.” Shortly after, I was on the way home to Texas, changing my life in ways I could not have imagined.

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