Baby Steps

At 48, I sometimes feel like a newborn. I feel like I am a little child learning life from the beginning. Like a stroke victim learning daily functions all over again. At 48 I can do anything I darn well please and answer to no one unless I decide to. I can cry. I can curse. I can throw things. (I don’t throw things, although sometimes I feel like it.) I can be angry.

I was not allowed to do these things growing up. Crying would get you smacked. Cursing would have gotten me killed I suppose, I was never dumb enough to test that theory. I was taught with the back of a hair brush or a comb across my face, (or whatever happened to be within reach) to keep my emotions level. No anger, no tears, no elation. Just “be” and do that very quietly.

I guess lately I have begun to test my limits. Like a toddler standing to her feet those first couple of times, testing her little legs' ability to walk, I am testing my ability to set my own boundaries and limits. It is a very scary thing to do. Maybe when it is done naturally, at the ages where it is appropriate, it isn’t as frightening, but doing it now at my age is very frightening.

I find my justified anger at work most unsettling. I liken it to when I bought my new roller ball mouse. A roller ball mouse is very different. You lay your hand over the mouse and it never moves. You only move the ball with your thumb. It was distressingly hard to become accustomed to this mouse, but I knew it would be better ergonomically because I was beginning to have some wrist pain. At first though, it was clumsy, difficult and felt unnatural.

That is how my “new” anger feels. Clumsy, unnecessary, pointless. WRONG.

I’m learning though. I am learning I CAN be angry and it is okay. I am learning it is okay to laugh and be happy WITHOUT waiting on the other shoe to drop.