I should be grading today. In fact, my school laptop gaped at me in shock and disgust as I reached for my personal MacBook to begin this post. But something has been on my mind this weekend, that Mr. Rogers quote that reappears in the media every so often, especially in the wake of some time of tragedy or despair: "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." I keep thinking about this quote because I keep thinking about all of the people who have shown up recently as "helpers" in my own life and how grateful I am for their appearance.
You see, I am not someone who asks for help. In fact, I do everything possible to make it seem as though I do not need help and instead make myself available to help others. If I had to choose an animal that best fits my personality, I would love to say something cool and majestic like a lioness, but in reality it's the duck. I am gliding across the water on the surface, but paddling furiously underneath. (I also love bread and get cranky if you take it away from me, but that's not part of the story today.) I work hard to make life easier, more comfortable, more enjoyable, and more lovely for all of the people around me; I work even harder to make that comfort and loveliness appear effortless. My husband has recently told me there's a word for this in the Italian language: sprezzatura. What can I say, I'm very cosmopolitan. But in all seriousness, I'm proud of this quality and I think it's one of my best attributes. It makes me a thoughtful teacher, a more caring partner, and a doting hostess. But when I look a little deeper, this attribute isn't exactly pure altruism, nor is it necessarily healthy.
Like many of you, this year of quarantine has given me a lot (like, A. LOT.) of time to reflect on my life and who I am, and one thing that has become very clear is how much my - let's just call it what it is - perfectionism is tied to my self-worth. I struggled mightily at the beginning of the pandemic with the loss of control and my inability to make things safe and good for the people I care about. Our wedding was postponed, the school year was up in the air, and I could not find toilet paper anywhere. I roamed the house, unsure of what to do with myself, feeling uneasy and anxious every waking minute. Even when we did fun things, like set up a cooler and cornhole in our front yard like the classiest couple on the block, I couldn't focus or enjoy it. Chris became worried and finally forced me to confront the way I had been feeling and reacting. I started to actively work on not just coping with anxiety, but figuring out why I felt the way I did. Around this time, I was out for a long walk through the neighborhood and was listening to a speech or sermon, something in which the speaker was talking about how some people cling to perfectionism because subconsciously they felt it was the only way to keep everyone else from seeing all of the faults and ugliness that they see in themselves. Like a magician with the slight of hand, so long as I distracted everyone with a pretty trick over there, they wouldn't have to see all of the ugliness that I see right here. It felt like someone had suddenly shown a huge spotlight on me, and I cried right there beside someone's mailbox. For years, all of my self-worth was tied up in making life perfect and appearing effortless in doing so...and when a worldwide pandemic stripped me of any control and made it literally not possible for me to do that anymore, I felt naked, exposed, vulnerable, and well, worthless.
It's taken a lot of work over these last several months to disentangle myself from those feelings, and it's something that I work on every day. But I share all of this with you to make it clear just why choosing to write this blog feels like such a giant, sometimes shaky, step for me. A year ago, I would not have dreamed of making anyone other than my husband aware that we were struggling to conceive, or more specifically, that I was struggling so much emotionally with our challenges. I would have flashed a bright smile and offered to throw you the best baby shower ever, and then spent that night watching TV in the dark and crying myself to sleep. And while I do think there's still some value in just sucking it up and barreling through the day-to day, I have also found that allowing myself to be a little vulnerable and share a little bit of that heartbroken part of me with you has been such an unexpected balm for my soul.
In the span of just these last two weeks of writing and sharing my story with friends and family, both distant and near to my heart, my "helpers" have shown up and extended their hands without me even having to ask. One of my oldest, closest friends texted me to tell me she loves reading this blog because it helps her better understand how to help me. (She knows me well enough to know how bad I am at asking for that help.) People have sent resources and articles and links to fertility community social media accounts. Friends have messaged me about sharing my writing with other people in their lives and how these people I've never even met are connecting with my experiences. Family members have reached out to us to offer their support and remind us of their love. One of my former students even sent me a sweet little cuff bracelet with a hidden message of encouragement and an even sweeter note to accompany it.
And that's to say nothing of all of the people who have extended their hugs, and prayers, and good vibes for us. Some days I am not okay. And there is nothing anyone can really do to change our situation right now. But the love I have felt from our village is nothing short of overwhelming. When I was texting with a family member the other day, she said that she couldn't remember if I was religious or not, but that her faith in God is something she holds onto and that she would be praying for us and our journey. I thought about that question of faith for a while that day. Ultimately, I concluded that I'm not sure if I believe in God, or at least God in the traditional sense. I think I believe in something bigger though...and I believe I see that something bigger's love and energy work through the people in this world. So really, I believe in humanity. And I believe in the helpers. And I would encourage you to do the same.
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