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This is a great question. There were lots of humbling experiences and spiritual lessons in 2012, not the least of which were "getting married," and "turning 40."  May I rephrase: The combination of turning 40 and then getting married, made it so clear to me that this life I have now, while, not necessarily the life I'd imagined for myself, is also real, and so beautiful.

In 2012 I learned I am loved, valued

This is a great question. There were lots of humbling experiences and spiritual lessons in 2012, not the least of which were “getting married,” and “turning 40.”  May I rephrase: The combination of turning 40 and then getting married, made it so clear to me that this life I have now, while, not necessarily the life I'd imagined for myself, is also real, and so beautiful. 

I thought, when I was a child, that I wanted to be some kind of celebrity:  famous, red carpet, fabulous clothes, adoration from all present!  And I wanted to be a mom with three kids. Those were my two choices:  celebrity actress/mom with three kids.  It makes me a little sad that I thought that those were my two options. My mom was a university professor, after all, and I loved listening to “Free To Be You And Me,” which advocated a widening career field for women. 

Lots of therapy later, I realized I wanted to be seen and known, and even loved.  I wanted the image of beauty, not necessarily the substance.  I wanted to be fabulous.  I lived in fantasy, because the life I had was in a boring, not-safe, Midwestern household  with two bratty older brothers who didn't dote on me near enough.  With two parents who did the best they could —  one while managing an undiagnosed bi-polar disorder and and the other while hiding being gay.  With a mean nun principal of the Catholic School I went to (apologies to nice nuns everywhere), and the guilt and shame of being sexually abused by a non-relative babysitter. 

I lived in fantasy because it was the safest place.  In that fantasy, everyone treated me with respect and kindness, and wild adoration.  Somewhere in therapy, I learned that wasn't real.  I also learned, somewhere else in therapy, that I could have a good life, albeit not the life of fairy tales. 

This year, I learned that I am loved by friends and family alike, and valued for who I am (metaphorical warts and all).  This lesson I met with some surprise, lots of laughter, and with absolute gratitude.  I love my family, my husband and my kid.  I love my little Spokatown,  I love my friends,  I love my relatives.  I'm grateful for it all. 

I'm pretty sure this year's lesson will be How To Rely On God:  A Primer.  It starts with the mantra, “panicking doesn't help!” or “don't panic.”  I'm looking forward to telling you about it next January.

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