Equal and Opposite
On conflicting needs, my 2024 "word of the year", and a special offer
I've never officially chosen a “word of the year”1 before, but the theme of being intentional came up for me again and again this year, and that intentionality is the reason for so many of the beautiful opportunities I've accepted - including writing here. With this in mind, and to carry it to the end, I thought it would be fun and rewarding to officially (intentionally) choose a word that I want to embody in the coming year.
Embodying something, however, is a bit difficult when being in my body is a constant struggle.
My childrens' needs are often in conflict with my own. I try not to hold it against them as I hold them against me, our seemingly equal and opposite needs like forces crashing against each other until I finally react.
I'm not sure if this is the best metaphor - in many ways, we want and need the same things. In many ways, we're growing together and learning about ourselves, and we all just want to be able to do that unhindered.
Unfortunately, the way we each do this is different, meaning that while one of us is trying to assert a perfectly reasonable need, the others are often doing the same in a way that is entirely contradictory to the needs of another.
Sometimes, in moments of frustration with myself, or with either of them, I almost think, I don't know why you insist on doing this —except, of course, I do.
I can feel my body asserting her needs even as my children do the same, and I struggle to find any semblance of balance, to know when to bend versus when to be firm in my boundaries, and I am at a breaking point.
After spending so much time in burnout, I know the importance of caring for myself, yet I constantly find myself worrying that in doing so I am not meeting the needs of my children, and so often it feels easier in the moment to relent and allow them to literally walk all over me than to add whining or screaming or tears to the barrage of sensory input I'm already experiencing, and allow my anxiety and shame to spiral and convince me that I'm fucking everything up.
This is, of course, neither fair nor sustainable.
So, while 2023 has been my unofficial year of intentionality, I've decided that 2024 is going to be my year of autonomy.
I want to remember how to be a person outside of motherhood.
I want to spend more time with, and for, myself.
I want to feel like myself.
I want my kids to see me drawing healthy boundaries and caring for myself, not just so I can be a better parent to them, but because I am a person who needs and deserves it.
I want to find ways to be apart so I can come back to my family feeling refreshed and ready to be present.
This is definitely one of those things that's easier said than done, and I'll need the support of others to make it happen. It will likely require a good deal of planning and experimenting.
It will require prioritizing opportunities for me to leave the house without the kids, and for them to leave the house without me, both of which are difficult given the fact that my husband works full time, I don't drive, and we still have a relatively small support network, not to mention that most places outside of our home are overwhelming for me.
But difficult isn't exactly a new experience for me, is it? Difficult is already a part of my everyday. I spend so much of my time in some level of discomfort, and I'm realizing that even just experimenting with different types of discomfort could be liberating.
I'm not sure exactly how all of this will work, and I expect that there will be a lot of learning about what doesn't work. But honestly, I find the possibility in it kind of… thrilling.
I've learned a lot this year about what feels safe and comforting for me.
Now I'm ready to feel free.
If you've chosen your own word of the year, I'd love for you to share it in the comments! I'm also very open to suggestions for accessible ways for me to assert my autonomy in the coming year as an autistic parent of two young kids. 😅 And as always, feel free to share if this resonated with you.
If you've been considering a paid subscription (or if you haven't considered it yet and are simply open to an opportunity to support my work - and thereby my autonomy - here) then I hope you'll take advantage of this discount through the end of the year. I realize that I don't have a paywall on any of my posts and don't currently offer any additional benefits, so there's not much incentive beyond *you finding value in my writing* - but that's enough, isn't it?
I've seen a few mentions about choosing a word of the year recently, so I'd been contemplating it for a while, and
’s recent post about her own word of the year is when mine popped into my head.
You are allowed to NOT meet all of your children’s needs. You are allowed to tell them that you need some space and that you are too full and overwhelmed and frustrated to take on more. You can be a great mom who chooses herself over her children when needed, and they may be upset about that choice; they will still be okay.
This balance is hard and we don’t always have it figured out--we will step too far in either direction. But the beautiful thing is the rupture always has the possibility of repair, and that can actually bring us closer to ourselves and our children if we lean in to it.
I was just talking to a friend about how we just won’t get it right in every situation, but we can tell the story of our struggle to our children so that they don’t create the story that everything is their fault.
This is a beautiful step in your journey; I look forward to reading more about it 🙂
I am an old fart.
My kids are both in their thirties.
We are nothing special, but,
we congratulate ourselves often for surviving the wild selfish before kids, and the hectic selfless during kids, and the long whooshhh exhale after kids, as we tiptoed thru three separate songs of our anthology.
and my word of the year is "waiting",
as in waiting for grandkids to show up so we can do it all over again, same but different,
'cause all we really end up indulging in are the good notes.
Don't fret,
You'll be fine.
Tiptoe on,
let your spirit lead the way.