We’re never really grown-ups.

When I was 4-years old I told my mother that I did not want to have any more birthdays. I wanted to stay 4 forever. (smart kid eh?) My mom told me she wished I could stay 4 forever too. I don’t know if I was just having a lot of fun, or if I had somehow picked up on the fact that life for grownups seemed a lot harder than anything I was interested in. Either way – something in me was telling me that where I was in that moment was a pretty darn nice place to be. I often think about that day and that wish and realize I was certainly wise beyond my years.

Growing up is tough. And it lasts a lot longer than we ever imagine. We’re always growing up. When you’re really little the high school-aged babysitter is a grown up. In high school the college kids are grown ups. In college those late 20s-early 30-somethings are grown up. It just keeps getting pushed back as we realize that the process of growing up has no end point. It is painful and joyous and hard and wonderful. It is full of goals – realized and missed; accomplishments, failures, love and loss. But most of all it is filled with lessons and knowledge and at some point, the wisdom of “old age.”

Like everyone, I have suffered through all kinds of heartache. The kind that comes from being hurt or betrayed by someone you love and trust. The kind that comes from hurting someone that you love – however well-intentioned your actions or words might be. The kind that comes from separation,  breakups of all kind – your own or those of loved ones; the kind that comes from physical pain, and usually worst of all, that which accompanies death.

The worst of all pain seems to have a life of its own, attacking us in waves when you least expect it. I wonder sometimes if that is our minds pushing it back, holding it at bay, then struggling to work through it, which requires feeling it. Or perhaps it is God giving us small breaks to catch our breath, then washing over us only as much as we can truly handle, even when it feels as though we might drown.  I’m sure I”ll never fully understand the way pain works. But it is something universal. Something we all experience, regardless of the different sources and degrees in which we all experience it.

The funny thing about pain, though, is that it is necessary. It shapes us. It strengthens us, even when in the moment, it feels as though it might break us. We come out stronger on the other side. And it doesn’t seem to matter what kind of pain it is. It could be physical pain, grief from losing a loved one, heartache from the painful end of a relationship. It fortifies us for the next round (and there is always a next round!). It transforms who we are into who we are becoming. I don’t know anyone, myself included, who doesn’t wish, beg, pray, scrape and claw through pain to make it end as quickly as possible. I don’t know anyone who attempts to prolong their own pain. At times, we experience things that seem impossible to overcome. It does not feel as though they will strengthen us, but instead be the end of us. Rarely is this actually the case. And at some point, we realize that today hurts a little less than yesterday. And a lot less than a few weeks ago. We reach a point when we can allow ourselves to think about the source of our pain with less trepidation and more fortitude. We grow – we grow through and because of pain.

I’m in a funny place in my life right now. My migraines are particularly problematic because I’m making my way through a month off of one of my medications whose side effects are so potentially harmful that every six months I have to come off of it for a full month and have CT scans done to ensure no damage has occurred from its use. At the same time I had my heart broken by someone I love very much. While I was completely overwhelmed when hit with these things, I see now that they are necessary. Necessary to keep me healthy, necessary for me to move forward, necessary for me to grow, and perhaps most importantly, necessary for me to get where I’m going and become the person I am meant to be, strong and able enough to do all the things I am destined to do.

In the moments when the physical pain is so severe I can hardly breath, or the waves of heartache that wash over me so overwhelming I think I might crumble beneath it all, it is difficult to stay positive. A few days ago I was angry. I was REALLY angry. But that got me no where. My relationship ended in a way that, in my opinion, did not honor what we had. I wish it could have ended differently, but it had to end. While dealing with this sudden loss I also had an overdue appointment with my neurologist. I drove to my appointment hoping that he would have some way of easing my migraine pain. Instead, he made a change that resulted in this month of increased pain. But this too is necessary. Anger doesn’t lessen what I feel. So once again I find myself grateful. Grateful for things that used to scare me, anger me, confuse me, confound and bewilder me. But even this pain is carrying me forward toward whatever the next big thing in my life might be.

Closing some of these doors allows me to find unexpected openings. I’m transitioning from some tough places/circumstances to a lot of unknowns and some dreams-come-true. Sure, I had my heart broken. But it’s OK. It reminds me that I’m alive. Feeling things so deeply – even heartache, can be inspiring. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to Lady Antebellum sing the words “I’d rather hurt than feel nothing at all” and thought to myself – “not me!” But they’re right. It is strangely life-affirming to feel something so deeply, even if it hurts. It is equally wonderful to know, deep down, that like all else – these feelings are only temporary, and soon the pain will be replaced with joy equal in measure.

I have a confession…I secretly want to be a song writer. The one small problem with that – I have no musical ability what-so-ever! I can’t sing; can’t play any instruments and am pretty much tone-deaf. LOL. I do love to write though, and it’s amazing to imagine someone marrying what falls onto my paper with an amazing melody. I also want to be a successful jeweler, a wildlife rehabilitator and educator. I have lots of dreams. It’s good to have places I want to go, things I want to do. And amazing to be well enough, some days, to make some progress. Perhaps one of the doors that is closing in my life will open up to one of these dreams. When I look at it from that perspective, it is hard to resent the pain. And so much easier to embrace the change, appreciate where I am, wade through the tough days and look longingly forward to all that is to come. So here’s to life, with all of its twists and turns, pain and joy and wondrous possibilities!