On many days, I feel unworthy. This is not new. I've spent much of my life feeling unworthy. It's by no fault of my own, really. Years of emotional abuse and fundamentalist beliefs will do that to a person.
"We are all sinners and guilty of being human, bad bad humans" I was told. And I digested every bit of that for years.
And so for most of my life, I've believed that any fortunes that had come my way were based on my own merits. I worked hard and I earned it. Because if people knew who I really was, who Kristen is, then they would know the truth.
That I deserved none of it.
I always wanted a happy life, but I just never thought it was mine to have. So, I signed a contract with myself at 15 that I would never get married, and I truly believed that I would never be able to have kids. Because I didn't deserve them.
And I stuck my head in my work. Because someone made me believe I was worthless and that I was only the sum of what I could achieve. It was easier to say I didn't want them then to believe that I was not worthy to have one. "At least I wouldn't screw anyone up. Just what the world needs. Another screwed up kid" I would tell myself over and over like a skipping cd.
But when I met my daughter, things changed.
She didn't know that I had written two textbooks and made headlines as the youngest director of a music therapy undergraduate program in the country. And she didn't know I that I used to model, act, sing, and make people laugh.
And she didn't know that I had lived in pain for many years, stuck in my own inability to take control of my own life instead of letting it control me.
And frankly, she didn't care.
So while I have come to a place where I feel worthy as a person, I'm still struggling to feel worthy as a mother. Worthy of this sweet and dainty creature with a quick mind and a soft, gentle spirit. This little person who touches everyone who meets her and who doesn't care that I spent 15 hours in labor, breastfed her until she was 21 months old, and changed her diaper more than I care to remember. A little person who doesn't require me to prove myself in any way, shape, or form.
I've never really known a relationship like that.
And so, my little Goose, I'm not quite sure how you landed in my arms exactly 2 years ago, but I'm so thankful that you arrived. Your presence alone has given me clarity about this life.
And because of you I know that good things do happen to good people.
You're one of good ones, Goosie. And now I know that so am I.
Happy Birthday, Q!