Posted on by Jennifer Cyr

I was wrong. It hurt both of us. And now…

So my dear friend, the one who kickstarted my unraveling, whose kindness rekindled that fire in my soul, who can’t be in my life anymore…I thought he crafted a scenario to hurt me. I was wrong. I hurt him with my assumption and he hurt me with his insensitivity.

Here’s the thing…in the midst of one of my down periods, this was happening. At that time, I had been begging my dear friend to come see me, give me an opportunity for closure. There were some unresolved things, and as mentioned in previous posts, I like to peck at things. Anyway, he typically shuts down and just moves onto the next thing.

But just weeks later, he finally agreed to see me. We had a chance to talk out a few things, catch up a little, and honor our friendship for the authentic and inspirational experience that it was. We parted as friends, with a smile and a wave. And now I feel like I can finally let him go. I know that he will always carry me with him as he navigates relationships, parenting, and struggles. I know he will be alright.

(And yes, I say love, because there are many kinds of love…friendship is love)

Posted on by Jennifer Cyr · 2 Comments

She’s using my skills against me…and it’s so dang helpful

Once again my talented therapist is surprising me with her insight and skillfulness. I’ve been having some repetitive thoughts and trying to make them stop only makes them worse. She ever so carefully steered me into how to get to the root of those thoughts without my awareness, with no pressure, and an ease that allowed for openness.

So here it is…her magical approach:

If a child in your care was having a tough time letting go of some feelings, how would you help that child move through it?

So simple. First I would listen to the child, because after all, every child wants to feel heard. I would then observe the child’s behavior to look for non-verbal communication. Children’s behavior is a such an enlightening form of expression and communication. Next, I would find activities or roles based on my observations that I could offer to empower the child and build on that child’s strengths, ultimately meeting the unmet needs.

Damn she’s good. She got me so focused on the child that popped into my mind that I forgot I was talking about myself! But here comes the tough part, right? Looking at myself as the child instead of the teacher…well, she put me in my secure role as educator and so I carried that feeling with me as I dove in.

So here I am sitting there thinking that I have to listen to my young self. And that child says nothing. She is silent and trying to make herself small, trying not to cause any trouble or unwanted tension. She wants someone to notice her, to listen to her. She wants someone to ask her what she thinks, and she wants to be listened to when she answers. She wants others to want her. She wants others to accept her. She wants others to feel comfortable with her. She wants to be seen for who she is becoming, and she wants to cheer on the others who are becoming…

Here I go…

  • Writing my blog helps me feel heard and I love that others find inspiration in my words and thoughts. (Keep it up!)
  • I’ll never be seen if I don’t let others have the opportunity to see me, so I am putting myself out there. (Be brave!)
  • I will keep becoming myself, and accept who I am, since my own acceptance is of paramount importance.
  • I will keep working toward being comfortable with myself and the comfort of others will come on it’s own (right?)
  • And finally, I will begin to let go of the fear…fear of rejection, loss, fear that I will never again find the connections like those I’ve had in my life.

Wish me luck…it’ll be a process, a trial of sorts with some backslides and failures, but I’ll get there.

Posted on by Jennifer Cyr · 1 Comment

Grief 5 Years Later…

I’ve experienced a lot of loss in my family, my husbands family, classmates, community members…but the loss of my dear friend Laura was the roughest on me (sorry mom). When you choose to bring a person into your circle, into your life, it’s got a different significance than who you happen to have in your life already.

Laura was kind, thoughtful, but also down to earth and flawed. She held her flaws close, but shared them with me from the beginning…we had a comfort with each other almost right away that was easy. I’ll never forget the evening she told me about the lump in her neck…

We were having dinner together on an early November evening. She had the roasted garlic potato soup and I had the pumpkin ravioli. We chatted quite a while and when I noticed the lump on her neck, she said she’d have it checked as soon as her insurance kicked in in January. While I completely understood waiting for financial reasons, I told her not to let it go longer than that. But that evening, I had the thought: it’s cancer and she’s going to die. I can’t explain it, to have not just a feeling, but the sure and certain knowledge of what was to come was overwhelming. Sure enough, the doctor saw her on a Wednesday in January and took it out two days later on his lunch break, telling her he was 99% sure it was cancer. From there, scans and tests and chemo…and by July she was cancer free. But she struggled to shake a cough, taking steroids to reduce inflammation changed her appearance and did little to help..In October, they did a biopsy of her lungs, and she was hospitalized for good after that. Early November brought news that she wasn’t conscious, relied on a ventilator, and had an uphill battle. I knew she would not come back to us, I knew that life had been too hard for her, that she didn’t want to fight anymore, and that she knew letting go was the kindest thing her family could do for her. Her paperwork was quite clear: after two weeks on a ventilator, with no signs of improvement, she was to be taken off life support. She only lasted a week on the machines, her body just couldn’t keep going.

Laura was one of the most perfect imperfect people I’ve ever met. She was nurturing and gentle, and a dear friend. I’ve been finally allowing people into my heart again, and though I’ve been hurt, I’ve also been healed. I’m not much for heaven and all that, but I believe she is with me, and that she sent me a couple of wonderful people to help fill the Laura-shaped hole in my heart.

Posted on by Jennifer Cyr

Honoring Change…

I love this image…it makes me feel nostalgic for the time I was pregnant with my son…of course by this point, I was eating 2 cans of beefaroni a day and my hip kept popping out so I could hardly walk! I was 10 days overdue and had gained 20 pounds in my last 2 weeks! (And by the way, he didn’t turn till I was at 34 weeks! There was so little room for him to move, I had to lean on a tall counter and let gravity give him a little help!)

But as I write this, I’m also trying to honor a significant change in my life…here it comes:

About 9 months ago I became pregnant for the 8th time. And for the 7th time, I suffered a miscarriage. This triggered an already impending cultivation of a breakdown, unraveling, whatever you want to call it. After seeking therapy, finally, one of the pieces we focused on was seeing a doctor for my gynecological health. As a result, I am now using birth control (for a couple reasons).

This weekend would have been my due date. And though I’m almost 42 and couldn’t imagine having an infant come into my family now, I chose to get away for the weekend to face my mixed feelings.

You see, I’m facing the reality that I will never again be pregnant and never again miscarry. And though I’m sad, I’m okay. I am so lucky to have become a mom almost 14 (!) years ago. My kid is amazing, intelligent, talented, charismatic, intuitive…you get the idea! And while I wish I could’ve given him a sibling, the self proclaimed sole survivor of “the womb of doom” will be just fine.

So I choose to be grateful that I was able to bear a child (I dislike that expression so much), and nurse him and raise him to be a respectful and kind young man (yikes). I choose to remember my pregnancies as the losses they were, but also to remember what I learned about myself (and my husband) along the way. Each loss presented an obstacle but also an opportunity for growth.

So now I say goodbye to my “fertile” years and hello to my “taking care of me” years…because it’s been a long time coming…

This post is dedicated to all the moms out there who have lost babies, and to the babies I lost. I loved you all.