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I was raised in a community that taught me:⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ If you want it, it's almost certainly selfish. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ If you don't want it, it's God's will for you. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ If you needed it, God would have already provided it for you. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ If your desire is from God, be faithful and he will provide it. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ If you are suffering, God is pleased, now you will rely on him more. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ If you are happy, you are consumed with the things of this world. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ If you have questions or doubts you aren't submitting to God - to us - you don't need to understand, just obey.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ I'm only just beginning to realize the reaches of these lies and how they have kept me bound to a toxic theology long after I intellectually walked away from the community. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ It is still ingrained in me to silence my intuition or pain, to shame my need for a boundary, to question my own motives. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ I tell myself, "Well, they don't understand or agree with the need for the boundary, so I should just accept whatever of my terms they are willing to assent to." ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ I tell myself, "I should be grateful they aren't treating me (or others) worse."⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ I tell myself, "I guess I'm not really hurting, I guess this isn't as bad as I thought."⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ With this dismissive inner voice, it is so easy to become locked into relationships and patterns that exploit our self-denial. When we cannot trust or value our intuition, our own wisdom, we are ripe for abuse. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ But there is a simple and powerful antidote to this toxicity: sharing our stories. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ When we speak our pain, our longings, and our joy aloud we are freed from the construct that tells us to stay silent and small. And, as we listen to and affirm others, we reclaim our power to be life-givers. We learn to wrestle with rather than explain away the complexities of life - the beautiful diversity of our experiences and emotions. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣How would your life change if you could freely share the stories you carry? What’s stopping you? ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣

Well, this is wonderful.

A lie I bought into for a long, long time. ✨New post/link in bio✨ #mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealth #mentalhealthquotes #stigmafree #smashthestigma @namicommunicate @themightysite

It’s all connected. 💫 #mentalhealthawarenessmonth #mentalwellness #therapy #mentalhealthmedication #selfcare #embodiment #writersofig #mentalhealthawarenessweek

We did not have a picture perfect Mother’s Day. Drew had an anxiety attack while trying to make the requisite breakfast in bed, I yelled at my kids in what I swear was word for word a lecture my mom gave me in 1996, my kids trashed the house and fought all day, and we spent too much money on a dinner out (trying to avoid doing any more dishes). The kids were so wild they didn’t even eat their dinner and eventually Drew went and sat with them in the car while I ate alone in the wreckage. Happy Mother’s Day! Today I felt lonely. Tired. Unseen. Unappreciated. Angry about these stupid expectations that I tried so hard to avoid but somehow snuck in and poisoned any small moments of joy. How does that always happen? Over the past few weeks I’ve been meditating on the idea of suffering. Yes, I realize that a gift-less, tantrum-full mother’s day isn’t what we usually consider *suffering*. But loneliness and anger and conflict and bitterness are their own kind of grief, a load we cannot easily cast off and sometimes simply must bear for a while. Acknowledging and accepting suffering - from the great injustices of the world to the smallest moments of feeling unseen or unwanted - allows me to become untethered from the anger and resentment and to simply notice the feelings as they come. When I can accept my feelings and allow myself to actually feel them I can more easily let them go. I can move on, be restored, healed, at peace again. Kids are extraordinarily good at this, and I learn so much from their emotional honesty. Tonight after we took this photo (and about 50 other goofy faced shots that included Rowan accidentally smacking Evelyn in the face and her telling him he’s the worst brother and then elbowing him in the eye, and both of them crying, and then finally cuddling again,) Rowan looked up at me, tears still wet on his cheeks and said, “Mom, I’m so sad sometimes but tomorrow will be a better day. We will take more deep breaths and make better choices.” Evelyn chimed in, “Yeah, and we’ll still love you, even on Father’s Day.” So at least there’s that. 💛 May you feel empowered to be in all your complicated feelings, today and everyday.

Mother’s Day church service mentions and prayers often fall flat before the complexities of motherhood and being mothered. We deserve better, on this and every day. When I first read this prayer (written by a @unitedchurchofchrist community in Georgia) I was struck by how beautifully it moves through the spectrum emotions, naming and affirming them all before and with the Divine. It seemed so wonderfully feminine, so vulnerable and honest, all things I have been searching for in church spaces for so long. I’m over at the @spiritualparent today sharing more of the story behind this prayer, how I adapted it to tell the stories of the women in my community, and how I hope we can begin prioritizing and celebrating the stories and skills of all women in our churches. *link in bio* . . . #liturgy #mothersdayservice #prayer #divinefeminine #listentothewomen

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Julianne Vantland

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