Please don’t end up like me

It seems like everyone I know is having kids or has recently had a child. I normally would just shrug this off in comment form like so, “Sucks to be them. I am so not ready for kids right now or maybe ever.” However, I will admit that I’m lying to myself every time I say or think that. I do want kids. But I also want a life that allows me the freedom to do whatever I want. I feel like kids would take that away. Although, I most recently realized that these reasons for not having kids just scratches the surface on a deep seated fear of mine. 

I grew up in a divorced family. Childhood is kind of a blur. I honestly don’t remember much, if any, of it. I had to grow up way too fast in order to take care of myself and my siblings. If all that wasn’t enough to groom me into never wanting children, the most unexpected and devastating event happened; a parent’s worst nightmare, losing a child. 

Grief is a torcherous gift. It makes me remember but it also makes me forget. I forget to acknowledge the pain and I pretend it doesn’t exist. I pretend nothing happened and that my inability to remember even the happy moments of my childhood, when my brother was still alive, is a normal occurrence. Everyone just forgets things, right? Only difference is that I’ve done it on purpose because I can’t handle the pain. 

How does this relate to having children of my own? I fear they will end up just like me. Scared and unsure of what a normal family looks and acts like. Scared of losing something but losing it anyway. Scared of commitment. Scared of being alone, forgetful and being authentic.  

I don’t want to raise children that are anything like me. I don’t want them to have the same upbringing I did. I don’t want them to feel all the pain I feel and have felt. 

I don’t know how to change the future.  

I’m terrified my children will be as fucked up as I am. 

There, I said it. 

Now, let the healing begin.  

A Lesson in Appreciation

I’ll admit it, I didn’t realize what was happening. I didn’t realize what I was suppose to be noticing. It took almost a year to get to this point, and I still am learning, the hard way.

The past year has proven to be difficult. Between relationship changes, family drama, loss of a loved one, a chaotic work environment and a not ideal living situation, I am exhausted. I haven’t taken the time to take care of me. Truthfully, I don’t know how. My whole life I have been trying to achieve and be someone I thought I needed to be. To prove my worth to the world. Only to recently realize that nobody gives a damn. It doesn’t require a million degrees and certifications to make a difference.

It takes appreciation.

It takes meeting someone where they are instead of expecting them to conform to your present interpretation of life. It takes slowing down and mindfully looking at the little things that make up our everyday life, the things we take for granted.  It takes love and kindness. Not a romantic love but an intimate love that allows those you interact with to feel comfortable with themselves.

Stuck, again? 

It’s been a year since I had the most terrifying conversation ever; the one that set me on this new path I’m on. I asked my then husband for a divorce. I knew there would be good days and bad days to follow. I was just tired of feeling stuck and trapped in a relationship and life that wasn’t feeding my soul.  

Well, needless to say, many things have changed and happened with in the past year. Yet, here I am again. I’m struggling to make ends meet both financially and mentally. I have faith that I’ve made the best decisions I could have given the circumstances and timing. But, why? Why, here? Why, now? What is this mess I’ve created? 

One thing I have realized about myself this past year is this: I’m patiently inpatient. What I mean is, I am more than willing to wait for the “good” while enduring the “bad.” All the while I’m pissed that it’s taking so long. What I’m realizing through all this is that I hold on too long. I don’t want to believe that this job isn’t working out or that this relationship may not be worth it regardless of how much happiness it brings me. And on and on…

 I’m realizing that my control issues are standing in the way of my success. I could be, should be, doing so much more with my life, but I’m not.  I don’t know why I’m not. 

I’ve been told I’m too hard on myself. It’s beginning to sink in how true that is and I don’t want to believe that either. But I am becoming more aware of it. 

I fully support the idea that things happen for a reason. These feelings I’m having are valid and do mean something. I am certain that some type of change in my life is needed, I am just not sure what.

I do know that I’m tired of feeling stuck. 

I do know that I won’t be for much longer. 

I do know that I’ll actively try to keep from getting stuck from here on out. 

I do know that this life is beautiful and that I should enjoy it doing things that feed my soul.  

But why am I stuck, again…

With you in the middle

Somewhere in between wanting to know about absolutely everything and wanting to escape into the vast wilderness and forget it all exists, that’s where I am. Right in the middle. Or perhaps I have inconveniently placed myself at both extremes. 

I realize how important it is to be aware of my surroundings, my world. But being aware makes me realize how much I want to escape from it all. I wake up most mornings craving information, wanting to read, dissect new content, make sense of my world and brainstorm new ways to try and make a difference. Other days I want nothing more than to sip a cup of tea, sit by a fire and enjoy the company and conversation of those I care about most. All the while pretending this chaotic world we created doesn’t exist. And to relish in knowing I don’t have to be a part of it. 

I suppose I don’t have to pick one or the other. Both extremes could fill the days of my life.  But I’ve seemingly stummbled upon a never ending series of cross roads, in which I feel like I must pick one or the other. Do I strive for more accolades and credentials? I must prove myself, right? I must make a difference, right? Or, do I go home and love my family? Could that be the most meaningful and impactful difference? Can it be simple? Will I otherwise be perpertually homesick? Am I making life too difficult? How will I know I’ve make the “right” choice? 

Great questions. I don’t know the fucking answer, though. 

I do know that I’m unhappy, feeling lost and broken, and absolutely exhausted from over analyzing everything. 

I suppose the biggest take away should be this: Be true to yourself. 

Whatever that means…

Taylor Oliver

Well, this is it. 

I have thoroughly enjoyed this entire month of sharing my lyrics, learning a bit more about songwriting and sharing some of my favorite singer songwriters work. 

This was a transformative process for me. Realizing how much talent I have surrounding me, how gracious they all are and also, that I am capable of songwriting. I’ve done it already and I look forward to writing more. 

I suppose it’s only fair if I share a completed original of my own. It’s called “California.”

Thank you all so much for following along this month. 

May music forever take you places you’ve only dreamt of going, but always bring you back to where you need to be. 

Love always. 

Taylor 

How about some interaction? 

The end of the challenge is drawing near. There is still so much I want to write on but it will have to wait for another day. I did want to see where you are in regards to music. You mind answering the following questions in a comment on Facebook? 

What is your favorite kind of music? 

Why do you like it?

When you listen to music is it for the lyrics or the music? Or both? 

What type of lyrics do you like? 

Looking forward to your answers! 

Chuck Oliver 

I’m biased, I know. But it would be completely unfair of me to go this entire month with out posting one of my Dad’s originals. I asked for permission first, of course. 

Aside from being an amazing Dad, he truly is one of the most influential people in my life. I am so thankful for him and everything that is our relationship as father and daughter. 

His musical ability has always amazed me. Always able to pick up most any instrument and play it like he’s been playing it his whole life. Even going spells without playing the guitar, he can pick it up and his fingers just remember what to do. Musically, his style has changed some throughout the years. But his desire for authenticity has never ceased. Like his daughter, he craves music and lyrics that are genuine, real and raw. Because music is an emotional expression for him, just like it is me. We write songs to try and convey how we feel. Not to appeal to the masses but to somehow confess our fears, delights, sadness, happiness, in hopes that we can better understand ourselves. 

His original is called “If These Walls Could Talk.” It’s only appropriate that he sent me this particular song to share, as you will see when you watch his video. 

I don’t know if I ever thanked you Dad, for sharing your musical talent with me, for teaching me how to play the guitar and piano, for making me sing in front of you to get over my fears, and most importantly, giving me an outlet to share me with you, through music. 

Thank you. You are my favorite, Dad.💚

If These Walls Could Talk

Chuck Oliver Taylor Oliver copyright 2013
These walls work like blinders to my eyes

Find a hole that’s big enough to look outside

See what passed me by

And I’ll stay safe inside
Gotta a wall around my heart far as I can see

Must have started stacking stones when I was young

With every broken heart, every shattered dream

Another brick would find its home
And if these walls could talk

They’d tell you that I’m hurtin

Man, if these walls could talk

They’d say I’m lonely and little bit scared

And I don’t wanna be inside anymore

But I haven’t found the courage

And I haven’t found the door
There’s a hollow kind of quiet inside these walls of mine

It lets my wild imagination keep me entertained

Like a gourmet meal, Glass of Rose’ wine

At a table set for just one
But these walls around my heart keep the pain away

That’s the story that I’ve learned to tell myself

Only trouble is, they keep the pain inside

So it don’t ever go away
Hey boy, you’re locked up inside

Life delay from the fear and pride

That’s been poisoning your soul

You won’t let anyone in

To help the “healing the hurt” begin

It just festers and grows

I need to 

Find a way to

Let this poison go