Life happens while you’re headed in another direction. Sometimes life’s intentional. Sometimes it’s happenstance. Sometimes forces of natural science and fate converge and you get a Fiona. She is the plot twist in my life. The one I fought and fought which finally aligned. And as miraculous as her birth was, I’ve just as easily forgotten this little miraculous plot twist in my life with the relentlessness of her toddlerhood.
As times passes, I forget that she was my last ditch effort at fertility and children. And that it worked. She’s the pink elephant miracle in the room now. I forget because all I seem to remember is my striving, my longing to be more for me and its long entitled deep roots in my life. It stems from my legacy of not enoughness. And I lose sight of my miracles as I fall back on my familiar discontent.
That she and I are finding out who we are simultaneously should be a wonder to us both. That she humbles me out so that I must take this discovery process slow as to continue to be present for her. It was never her that was in my way anyway. It was always my fear.
Forgetfulness is the enemy when it allows us to let go of the things we once deemed magic. The miracles that made us revere our luck, our existence. And then these fade and the magic disappears in the cracks of the mundanity of life. And we forget who we are and how we were made.
Fear is the enemy when it belittles our abilities. It forgets us as we are standing on our hard earned ground. Like a bully it pushes us and then wants us to fall down. Pairing the fearful and the forgotten me and everything that I have achieved in the past decade disappears. And I vanish into dust. I am only as memorable as I make myself. And I know Fiona’s purpose herself is far greater than that. She reminds me how important she is to the world every day. And so I must remember and cherish and share my life’s little plot twist.
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