Initially, I was really excited about participating in Kristen’s blog exchange. I’ve done some collaborative blogging before and really liked it. I sent Kristen an email, was assigned a partner, and we were good to go. Then we were assigned a topic: Freedom. Okay!, I thought. This will be easy, I’ll go with the whole “with freedom comes responsibility” thing. As in, just because we are fortunate enough to live in a country with so much freedom and privilege, doesn’t mean that it’s okay to do this, that, or the other thing, nobody makes decisions in isolation, all of our actions have implications we couldn’t possibly fathom, global warming, civil rights, blah blah blah. The more I thought about it, the more bitchy and uppity it all sounded (I’m very good at both) and, since my post is appearing on Christina’s fabulous blog, I didn’t want to run the risk of being a rude guest. So out the window that went.

Since we were assigned our topic, I’ve done more thinking about “freedom” as a concept than I think I ever have before. When we lived out in the Berkshires, we used to take out of town guests to the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge. As a former art history major, I initially scoffed at the idea of doing something so kitchy, but after my first visit, I really began to admire Rockwell as an illustrator (in person, the detail of his work is amazing). I thought about his Four Freedoms paintings based on FDR’s famous speech and how these freedoms, worthy of our fight, were shown not as grand nationalist tributes to our troops or nation, but as the quiet moments of ordinary people. These paintings were created during a time of war when the majority of Americans were united behind the effort and willing to sacrifice for the good of our troops. I started feeling both angry and guilty that my biggest sacrifices in our current war effort have been paying too much for gas and removing my shoes at airport security, that we are a nation at war and most people’s daily lives aren’t really effected. And it overwhelmed me… and I couldn’t write about it.

So I settled on “Freedom from Other People’s Crap.” Next to the topics I’ve already touched upon, this sounds hideously self-serving, right? This particular topic has been a huge theme for me this year. I’ve talked about it a little on my own blog (shameless self-promotion, click here!) and getting to this point has meant me re-tooling my own thinking about myself and how I fit into the world and essentially un-wiring my Irish upbringing, my birth order issues, and so on. I am, by my nature, a pleaser. I internalized other people’s issues- all the projected inadequacy, and guilt.. I sucked it in like a sponge because I felt… I don’t know, maybe because on many levels, I believed that I deserved it and that it was all “true.” And I held on to all of it. This winter, thirty-four years of pleasing and holding-in, and doing everything myself, and saying “I’m fine” finally caught up with me. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I summoned the last shred of energy I had and went into my doctor’s office for help. I- ME- was in a position where I had to ask for help. And I hate asking for help.

But finally getting help proved to be a major turning point in my life. It hasn’t been easy, but since then, I’ve been seeing things differently. I let other people’s issues be their issues. You stay home with your kids and think I’m a bad mother for working? That’s your problem… it’s not mine anymore. Ditto for passive aggression and guilt trips. I am rubber, you are glue. Pissy co-workers? Hey, we all have our issues, but now, I can let your crap roll off of me rather than allowing it to keep me up all night.

While I was breaking down and re-building, I let my closest friendships go by the wayside (that’s the “me holding things and saying I can do it all by myself” part). And as I was getting ready to sit down and write this, I had a day that changed my life. The day-this past Thursday to be exact- wasn’t really unusual at first, but when I added it up at the end of the day, I know it will be a day I’ll never forget. It will be known as “The Day I Finally Got It.” I started my day at work- and it was a good, rewarding day at work- when my friend “A” called. She was stuck in Paris (side note: the only places I ever get “stuck” are far less glamorous) and could I please check on her cats and help her find the Logan shuttle schedule? “don’t be silly, I’ll get you from the airport and we’ve got the cats, too” She was so grateful it was funny (she felt bad, thought she was imposing – all the things I’d say in the same situation) and I reassured her by saying “A, this is what friends do, don’t worry about it.” Then it was off to pick up the kiddo. We went to an afternoon showing of cars and Christine called. Did I want to go to DMB at Fenway next weekend, two more tickets just fell into their lap. Well HELL YEAH! THANK YOU!! During the movie, kiddo asked to sit on my lap and I remembered how fortunate I am to have her, growing, and healthy, and perfect in my life. Then my friend K called. K is going through a heartbreaking divorce and was talking about how some people she has been close to her are shunning her because of some of the decisions she has made and I got to say “I still love you. I’ll be your friend.” In the course of a friendship as long as ours, you don’t get to say these things very often. But that day, I remembered to say them. While I was on the phone with K, my phone beeped three times. The first call was my friend L who wanted to make a lunch date for Friday, B who wanted to plan a trip to visit him in NYC, and Arwen who is getting ready to move the last of her mother’s things and finally settle her estate.

I spent about four hours on the phone that night and talked to some of my best friends about a lot of their “crap”… but you know what? Their crap feels good. That a friend is in pain and wants to share their pain with me feels good. Freeing myself from the crap of people who don’t love or appreciate me with no strings attached, has given me the freedom to be a better friend, wife, and mother; to lend my time and emotional energy to people who need it and are willing to give it back when it matters. And I stayed up late into the early morning hours thinking about A and L and B and K and Christine and Arwen, and I looked in on my sleeping Hubby and Kiddo. Together, we share 98 years of history and friendship and love. And the weight of all that made me feel stronger than I think I ever have.

On The Day I Finally Got It, I declared independence from unproductive guilt and regret and chose my own Four Freedoms.

Freedom to forgive
Freedom to accept
Freedom to share
Freedom to love.

What are yours?

Kara is a wife, mom, and educator living in Massachusetts. You can read more about her at her blog, Cape Buffalo.

Check out the other participants in the June Blog Exchange.
Cape Buffalo
Chelle
Soul Gardening
Another Mommy Moment
Mommy’s Dirty Secret
Chicken n Cheese
A Mommy Story
A Crack in Life
Divine Calm
Taste the World
Knitting Spells
Binkytown
Motherhood Uncensored
Zach’s Day
Her Bad Mother
Clueless in Carolina
Izzy Mom
Mother Goose Mouse
Bethiclaus
Chaos Theory

I’ll admit we were surprised at what we were buying. A four bedroom two-story house with an attached garage. The price was low compared to many homes in Columbus, but to us it still looked a little scary. Could we really afford this beautiful home?

Our Beazer Homes saleswoman only smiled at us and told us they wouldn’t approve us for the loan if it was outside of our means. Aaron was finishing school, so it was only my income they based it on. We were quickly approved without any problems, and Aaron and I figured that he would soon have a job as well, which would make it even easier to afford this starter home.

The saleswoman showed us what our payments would be, and we agreed that it looked reasonable. We were offered an FHA fixed rate loan with a 2/1 buydown, meaning the builder pays 2% of the interest rate the first year, and then 1% the second year. It is supposedly designed to help ease the buyer into mortgage payments. I considered myself a savvy person when it came to money, and I grilled her with questions. But she glided past each question, showing us that at the very most, our mortgage would never go past $1000 a month.

After delays in building (which is another story entirely), our house was ready in May 2004. The first year we had no problems paying the bills. We even managed to buy some new furniture to outfit our home. The second year, when our payments jumped $100 a month, we were a little nervous, but still managed to handle it, even after I had quit my job and taken a part-time job.

We just ended the second year, and now the payments have gone up again. But not just the $100 we expected it to jump, according to all of the numbers-sheets Beazer gave us. Oh, no. Last night I opened the envelope and was met with a payment for nearly $1300 due! That’s a jump of $400 per month.

It seems Beazer underestimated the property taxes that would be assessed on our house. We haven’t had large jumps in property taxes around here – they’re the same they were when the house was built, and the house hasn’t gained any value. They simply chose to not fully disclose what the true costs of the house would be.

We’re not alone in this sticker shock. In our neighborhood, at least four homes have been lost to foreclosure. At least double that have been placed on the market, as the owners desperately try to sell the house before they face foreclosure as well. Others have been forced into alternative refinancing options that are simply a bandage on a fatal wound.