Last time I wrote to you, we talked about the importance of self-care in the seasons of our lives that are difficult. Have you tried this, darling? Have you sat with yourself in dark or hard moments with your gentle hand against your heart? Asked your body what it needs? Given space to your spirit to gently peer in to provide a respite from your experience here on earth? I hope, my love, you have just for a moment sat with yourself and offered this care. Our modern lives are full of expectations and it seems as though we are all somehow missing the mark, perhaps even the mark to sit with ourselves. If you haven’t yet leaned in to see what you need, that’s okay, too. You see, life isn’t always about what we do; it is often about what we choose not to.
Early Experiences
As a child I was raised in a home where meeting the family standards and expectations of others was held in high regard. My parents are good people and wanted what was best for us and in the 90’s their view was of their generation. There was a mold to fit and if you fit the mold life would be easy! The problem with this was two-fold. The first is that neither of my parents fit the mold from which they came. My mama was raised in the city in the 1950’s by parents who looked like movie stars and were strict beyond measure. My dad was raised by a traveling Methodist minister alongside siblings who subscribed to toxic patriarchy. My mama was a T-shirt wearing, war protesting liberal by the time she reached college. My dad saw (and sees) all beings as equal including women, which included my mama at his side and not below him as the male. They weren’t who they were raised to be. But the 90’s culture was strong and they had ideas of who my sister and I should be.
They wanted to create their own normal and for us to fit that mold. This led to the second problem: as a child, unless it made sense in my heart, I had a very difficult time following the expectations of others. I can’t remember a time I didn’t question a rule they tried to enforce. And at the same time I very much wanted to make my family happy. It was (and is) a little dance of, “No, I don’t want to, shoot, did that make you sad?” Even in a home where I knew my gender made me equal, I grappled with how to balance who I was with what others wanted from me.
Connecting to our Present
Fast forward to today and you are probably wondering as the owner of IABA why I am sharing this back story. What does it have to do with the families we serve or the work that we do? Well, darlings, the short answer is everything. You see, as the founder of IABA I drive the vision of IABA and what direction we go. That direction is always sitting alongside the families we serve and people we employ to better understand their life experiences. What have they been through? What do they need? How can they soar? And to sit alongside the people that come through IABA I always remember we are all human, having a human experience.
As the founder I am right here with you. Yes, I have the incredible honor of running IABA and providing care to our communities. The backstory of my parents is a small gleam into what shapes my values today and how I choose to lead. In this season of my life I’m realizing that no matter how much my logical head knows not to follow the expectations of others, my heart still wants to make sure everyone is okay. It is a delicate balance within myself. And I have found that when I am able to release expectations, life flows easily. This, my love, is what I want for you.
The Desire for Life
The release of expectations does not mean the release of desires. To be alive is to have dreams, hopes, and needs. The release of expectations means to release the internal (and external) cultural rules that prohibit us from living a life of ease and joy. When I wrote to you about self-care, I was smack in the middle of ignoring what my body needed while trying to hold up everything I am responsible for. My body shut me down (for six long weeks…) while I tried to push through without noticing my own pattern. After two very intentional weeks (not just one night of soup) I am finally feeling more connected to myself. That connection came after I released everything I thought I should be doing.
So what about you, darlings? Many of my readers are parents of children with neurodiversity. These parents are running a marathon of therapies while trying deeply to take care of their lives in addition to their child they so deeply love. Lives with children are full of love alongside worry. Is my child going to be okay? Am I doing enough? What about my marriage? Is there time for my friends? Who is making dinner? Why does laundry never end? And the list goes on and on. The expectations of being a parent are strong. And beneath that parent is a person who didn’t know the breadth of their responsibilities until they met their little person (maybe little people).
You too, my darlings, have a backstory, a childhood, an internal dialogue that is driving you day to day. We all do. And while our stories are different, we all seem to have the same murmuring worry of, “Am I doing enough?” I am here to tell you that it is not what you do, but who you are that is enough. That it is not what you cram into your lives that matters but instead your life itself. Today I am writing only to my parents and I hope you hear me loud and clear – who you are is exactly what your children need.
Yes, life is hard, and parenting is a madhouse. But darlings, in all of that there is life. Won’t you lean gently into your own heart, release what others want, and breathe an expansive breath into the stars? Your having what you need and not what others want is how to fill your cup. A full cup overflows into the lives around them. Kids and all.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
