We’re Not Here To Be June Cleaver And Then We Die
Have you had this moment? Thinking life would be easier if morphing into a 1950’s housewife felt right.
If staying home, raising kids, tailoring curtains to their desired length while whipping up meatloaf for dinner felt right?
And please, lets not forget our hair, which of course is flawlessly done in the latest up do while we scrub the toilet bowl… because, why not?
I feel like maybe I could rock that. Maybe my floors would be clean, my family photos would be in albums, and the pile of recycling would stop falling out whenever I open the cupboard.
Maybe this could be my life if only I put down my journal, or that book I’m reading. Or maybe if I quit writing. Or spend less time in the garden. Or stay home from that class I signed up for. Or just stop pursuing whatever it is that’s calling my name at the moment.
But I can’t do it.
Don’t get me wrong. I love staying home with my kids, I feel blessed to have that option.
But my job is not to play a role written for someone else.
Whether it’s a fictional 1950’s character or the millennial mom who appears to be the updated version of it.
That is not what I’m here for.
My job is to do it my way. To listen to my own voice. To that growing restlessness shaking up my insides, whispering, nudging, and sometimes shouting. It’s time.
The world doesn’t need another June Cleaver.
What the world needs is you.
In all your perfect imperfections.
Because living life on your own terms feeds the fire of empowerment, giving people around you permission to do the same…like your kids for example.
So take that step. And sometimes that means taking a step back.
From that thing you said you’d do.
Or that project you don’t want to finish.
Or that role you’ve been pretending to play.
Make space in your life.
If you have no clue where to start, start there.
Take a step back from all the distractions and make space for what’s been calling your name.
And that growing restlessness shaking up your insides will thank you.
This is why you’re here my friend. It’s time.