Happy Thoughts

I’ve always loved the story of Peter Pan – pirates, mermaids, pixie dust and never growing up. I like that last one especially.  I plan on never growing up. And as a 5’1” person who is roughly the same height as a child, I believe I have genetically earned that right. Listen, if the universe wanted me to be an adult, the universe would have made me adult sized. Sure, I get the grown-up stuff done, but I will always find whimsy and magic whenever and wherever I can. Especially now, but I’ll get to that in a little bit.

One of the central themes to Peter Pan is our “Happy Thoughts.”  What makes us fly.  What gives us that sparkle and lifts us off the ground.  When we are young, we are encouraged to have happy thoughts, be silly, use our imagination, sing made-up songs, fly! At some point, and you never really see it coming, you are told to stop. That imagination and dreaming are for children. Or maybe it’s a more gradual thing.  Adults tell you it’s time to grow up. You see your peers doing more grown-up stuff. And all you want to do is fit in.  So, you put your pixie dust away and forget your silly songs. Coincidentally, Happy Thoughts become less happy.  At least, doing taxes and figuring out a 401(k) plan are not Happy Thoughts for me.

Seems really unfair, doesn’t it?

At first you are encouraged to be who you are as loudly as possible. Then you are told to quiet down and fit in.  Being authentic is dangerous.  People could be mean to you. People might not like you. That’s the most important thing, right? Being liked. 

For a VERY long time. That was my happy thought. Being liked.  I wanted to be included so bad that I didn’t make the best choices for myself. I attached myself to people that didn’t really know me. They just liked this “fun” version of me that I had created to get them to like me.

PAUSE READING NOW AND GO LISTEN TO TAYLOR SWIFT’S “MASTERMIND” WHICH COULD BE MY PAST SELF’S PERSONAL ANTHEM

I became some version of myself that I didn’t recognize.  Someone I, honestly, didn’t like very much. I catered to everyone’s needs but my own. I was the person they needed me to be vs. the person I wanted to be. I convinced myself that person wasn’t worthy of any kind of deeper, or meaningful, love because no one could ever love the real me.

Then I found my Happy Thoughts again. 

My husband. My best friend. My biggest champion. My superhero.

My step-kids. My moon and back. My nugget and burrito. My universe.

My husband didn’t save me because I needed a man to rescue me.  He saved me by getting to know the real me, but uncovering the pieces I buried, by healing that kid who didn’t think anyone would ever really love her.  He did it by opening a part of my heart I had closed long ago. My step-kids rekindled that belief there is power in being silly, and joy is everywhere if you just know where to look. They re-awakened the kid that loved to play, sing silly songs, and fly.  We are in no way, shape, or form perfect. We have our share growing pains, hard truths and rocky roads. But we work through them. We dig deep and repair the roots so we can grow and flourish. Not just survive, THRIVE!

Also, fall in love with a nerd.  10/10 recommend.

Therapy has also been critical in this process. Through it, I learned to not only trust the real me, but trust that if I put my authentic self out there, that I will attract those who would see me like I’ve always wanted to be seen. If that means I lose people, their energy wasn’t meant for me anyway. 

This rediscovery of self can be scary and confusing. The people-pleaser in me fights dirty and likes to fill my head with lots of self-loathing. Some days my husband has to remind me I don’t have to get my family to like me, because they LOVE me. Accepting unconditional love is a hard thing to wrap your head around when, in your experience, love is only given WITH conditions. I even struggle with this with my immediate family. I was always trying to get them to like me for no good reason. They already love me beyond words. I don’t need to be a certain way to gain entry into their open arms. I just need to walk in.

I was buried under all these “rules of engagement” I had set for myself that I was ignorant to this. I had placed so many limitations and burdens on myself that I was drowning in them; spent so much time in the dark that when I finally stepped into the light, it was blinding. It was scary. But it was also freedom. It's Joy. Beauty. Whimsy. Love. Music. Magic.

Happy.

This new sense of self, self-love, love for my family – both biological and chosen – are my new, forever, happy thoughts.

And everyone is going to finally see just how high I can fly.