Just Keep Swimming
An end to sharing, or the beginning of it?
Today, I made an important decision: no more showers with the little mermaid. No more allowing her to fill the bottom of my shower with shin-deep water. Nope. No more kicks in the ankles from a tub-swimming toddler. No way. Can’t do it. Toys floating around tickling the sides of legs? No, thank you. I’m super good on all of it. I tried to make it one last time and unmistakably: I don’t want to share anymore.
I’ll share my snacks, my breakfast, lunch and dinner, my lap, cuddles and kisses, my camera, my makeup, my creativity, my breasts, but not my water—whether I’m drinking it, soaking in it or cleansing with it. I think that’s fair considering I shared my innards with her for 9 months and my tits with her since birth. I am allowed to keep something for myself. She won’t mind. Especially since she likes to have plenty of space to spread her gills and lengthen her tail in the pink bubble baths that I create for her when I’m not too lazy to bend over the tub to scrub the grass and tomato sauce out of her hair and from in between her toes (you’d be surprised at the places I’ve found her lunch).
Her shallow, confined swims interrogate my childhood experiences. Vicarious living mingles with the romanticism of being alive with bright eyes. The things I’ve grown numb to, she can’t ignore. Green unripe berries lack interest to me, but she sees the potential, the fullness that exists in the seed from birth. Though she must be open to guidance on how to care for its innocence, recognizing the power of letting things be until they are ready [to be shared].
Our humble life together continues to expand, with community embracing us without too much extra effort. A sustained open heart has been quite a bit more beneficial than the easiest solution of isolation. Blazing through my discomfort with expansion has brought viridity into my veins, flushing out the memories that once antagonized me into hiding. Both babe and I are finding more capacity to be with others our age without the other. Sharing our time with more than each other, we learn more about how we can show up for others with respect and boundaries. We also learn how to be in harmony with each other’s paths. The codependent patterns are being led to find independent substitutes, and leading toward a more sustainable relationship for both of us.
There is still plenty to be shared with her. And plenty for her to share with me. In due time, I trust, everything will play out as it should.
TYTYTY
Abby xx