Four Girls Later

I have so loved my 30’s. I would pick 30 over 20 EVERY SINGLE time. That is not just because 20 year old Sara was totally ridiculous, either. I have spent my 30’s learning about myself and in turn my relationships. I won’t sugarcoat it either, sometimes the learning process can be painful. The journey of self discovery is always worth it; not only does it makes us better in our relationships but it enables us to give ourselves grace. So much of growing up and young adulthood is watching those around you. It’s no secret that the people you have a front row seat watching greatly determine how you see the world. We owe it to those watching to figure out who we are.

My parents have been married 40 years, well almost 40. Their anniversary is actually this winter and we are going on a HUGE trip to celebrate them. I cannot contain my excitement, but more on that later. In those 40 years they have built something beautiful. A love for the ages.

My entire life my mom has said being with my dad after a long day still gives her butterflies. I have always loved this. And the funny thing, I actually think it is true. I totally believe she feels that and remains giddy to this day over him, and he her. 

Anyone that has ever experienced deployments knows the reunions are something unmatched. The excitement of feeling their breath warm on your skin and their heart beating against your chest as you have the first long awaited hug will have permanent residence in my brain. It is as if you’ve quietly held all these fears, and suddenly when your eyes land on them, that fear is like a sheet of glass that shatters to the ground. So butterflies, I’ve had. 

Day to day though, my husband does not give me butterflies… Allow me to explain.

I am a planner, thinker, helper. My mind is always swirling with something that needs to be planned or someone that needs help. This is why for me personally things like TikTok can be particularly challenging. Let me give you an example. 

My background is Public Health, I have a heart for global health and when my girls are a bit older I hope to find myself somehow helping in that arena. Not throwing breadcrumbs for one week at a time, my desire is sustainable help. Particularly the belief that young girls deserve education. I digress. 

Anyways, I recently found myself applying for volunteer opportunities on the remote side for girls in Nigeria facing female genital mutilation. Next thing I knew, all my algorithms were sharing story after story of young girls that had experienced trauma associated with FGM. Stories of women that lost sisters and daughters. Girls living with disfigurement and suffering lifelong trauma.  

Insert churning ocean inside of me – how can I contribute to helping these women? What organizations are aligning themselves with this cause? What resources are needed? And then insert all the feelings. I have so much sadness, looking at my own daughters, my heart weighs incredibly heavy with sorrow for the more than 200 million women alive today that have experienced this human rights violation.  

The same thing happens in other arenas of my life, too. We are moving soon and my mind is swirling with everything from logistics to decorating. We have summer travel plans that I am next level excited about. Insert packing, dog watching, plane tickets, where we will eat once there (living with food allergies, y’all). ALL OF IT. 

The good, the bad. I am thinking about it. I’ve said it before, but I really feel like it is the perfect illustration for me, I have an ocean churning inside of me. The tide that finds itself going in and out can very easily turn into a roaring sea. 

My husband gives me something so much better than butterflies, he calms the ocean in me. 

I love that my girls get to see their dad loving me so well that his presence brings out the most relaxed version of me. The me that laughs with reckless abandon at their dads never ending ability to make me laugh. I love that they watch their grandpas presence shift their grandma into a giddy school girl. I’ve seen firsthand them watch their other grandpa bring out the carefree giggly side of their grandma while singing karaoke. To see her throw her head back and laugh a full on belly laugh. 

I cant wait to see them figure out who they are and what compliments them. To find the very things their soul longs for. 

I hope you find yours, too. If you’re not dead, it’s not done. There is still magic to be found. Get to know yourself, you are worthy. 

Shine your light. 

Xoxo, 

Sara