The Invisible Handful

We are in a post-candy haze and thoroughly enjoyed our bundle of trick-or-treaters that journeyed up our darkened walkway. Thanks to my husbands genius, full size candy bars were given to middle schoolers and older and I do believe the word will get out next year and we may have to double up on the King Size stash. My waistline is in a love/hate relationship with the big bowl of leftovers and I am trying to use it as my own personal reward system, but have resorted to diving in without the earning part of it (don't judge me...).
So, as we recover and get ready for our week of much anticipated celebration (James' birthday and Esther's finalization), I have been "haunted" (excuse the pun) by several things, but this morning especially is one of being invisible. There has been an email going around called the Invisible Mother (or something like that) and I could relate, but being that I am a mom of high functioning autism, I tend to explain what I am doing for all my kids, as I'm doing it. Not to get the credit that may be deserved, but to explain the step by step logic of the social situations, chores, communications with teachers and coaches, etc. For that reason I don't always feel like an invisible mom. What I did have hit me over the head this morning is that I have somehow become a ghost of my former self. I am not what I thought I was going to be. I thought I was going to be a dr....I don't do needles. I thought I was never going to be married....I'm 15 years in. I thought Utah would be the LAST place on earth I would ever live....2 years in. I thought I would have my parents walking in relationship with me through my adult life.....not the case. I thought I was a handful.....I am.
That last one is the one that's getting me on this rainy Sunday morning, as my family walks out to go to church without me and the baby....I'm a handful.
I have met "handful" people several times in my life and it has been disguised in different forms of talks too much, doesn't follow social cues, borders on stalking, doesn't listen, angry, bitter...you get the drift.
I have been angry, I have been bitter, I may talk too much and not be the best listener, but I didn't think I truly bought into the concept of me being a handful until I was wiping stinging tears from my eyes on the toilet this morning and thinking I am a handful.
I think satan lies. I know that's an obvious statement, but I truly think he pushes and pushes until we, as believers, buy into his lie. I have bought in. Not only have I bought in, but I banked the house, my marriage, my relationships....me on this lie. It's one I have heard my whole life..."Good luck with that one-she's a handful" was the response of someone close to me to my new fiance. I played and continue to play the role of handful because that's what I know. That's how I was labeled (along with a lot of other things I'm sure), but what if that's not ok anymore? How does one break a pattern of buying into a lie that prevents them from embracing the happiness in front of them? How does one give up the expectations that a "handful" person holds over those around them? Why are there so many times that I can't see myself as God sees me and only feed on the unwarranted feelings that plague me?
I realize the gift that being a "handful" brings as well. It means when a school district tries to withhold services from your child, you make sure the district superinterdent and all those below know that you know your childs rights and you won't be rolling over....you are an advocate. It means that when you see a kid that you don't know hitting another child on pick up from school that you pull your car over, roll down your window, tell them to knock it off, and get their mom's phone number...waiting there until the mom can come pick up the offender.....you defend the helpless. It means when you order your steak well done and it comes back mooing, you send it back....even though you know you're risking retaliation from the cook....you are fair and want what you ordered and paid for. It means throwing all social correctness to the wind in choosing to become a transracial family because it's not only the right thing to do, but it became the only ONLY thing to do....I love...I am an advocate.

A flamboyant chunky red head that likes to make people smile should not be seeing herself as invisible. The confidence displayed in an advocacy situation needs to be applied within...instead I'm crumbling and unsure of my decisions and walking around hurt and angry at a time when my soul should be rejoicing for the week ahead. I instead go to bed with a headache pounding the needs of those around me and wake up with a stomach ache knowing I have to face it all again. Alone in my role of handful, I blame those closest for their lack of esp and begin to resent their presence and ignorance of the burdens I carry. Let the pity party begin...do you hear violins? Don't cry for me Utah begins to play as I look at myself in the mirror I see not a powerful Godly woman, but a broken, lonely, too busy, too distracted, complaining, misunderstood shadow of the person I want to be. "I'm done" does not even begin to describe the doneness I am with that person in the mirror. I have somehow lost myself in the shuffle to soccer practices and have excuses a mile long as to why I can't find me.

The challenge comes in the one word I hate the most....balance. How to bring out the best qualities of a "handful" without resonating in the nastiness of the unworthy lies that satan whispers to me as my head bounces on the toilet paper roll in a fit of frustration and insight that brings me to my knees. All I heard is he was right, you are a handful...you are a burden....you cause chaos...they would be better off without you. Enter string quartet....

As much as that is true in a lot of things, I have to let go of the label. It has me bound up and isn't that where satan wants me? Bound up....ineffective....invisible.....

A simple Halloween weekend where the biggest trick will be me navigating my way through this.......my treat I'm hoping will be more fulfilling relationships with those I love.

Happy Halloween!