I Am My Own Crafting Worst Enemy

This is an unplanned part three of my “Drafting Shortalls From Scratch” because I did not succeed in making my overalls for winter. Although I have made shortalls twice this summer, a few silly, but very human mistakes, led to the project going awry. This is what I think went wrong:

  • Flew too close to the sun when tailoring
  • Planning < No Plan
  • Lack of Focus
  • Measure Once, Cuss Twice
  • I kinda hate sewing when it feels this hard
  • Putting too much pressure on myself
  • Not Buying Enough Fabric
  • Not Mocking Up
  • Not using my Patterns when I’m stuck
  • Research the Basics

It’s so easy to think we’ve got this and be too confident when going into a project. With knitting, this approach of fearlessness had led to some great projects, but with sewing, this artistic type of approach crashes and burns. Sewing is fabrication, as weird as that sounds. I think I was prepared to sew such complex tailoring projects, such as my shortalls, this summer, because I spent the spring building a screened-in porch with Kyle. Woodworking is very similar to sewing, I learned! It is about measuring, planning, creating things in a specific order, and constructing something that is built to last. When we started working on the porch, I never imagined how much it would teach me about garment construction. But it gave me a template to focus on. Who knew that woodworking would be such an inspirational experience for me?

So why am I sharing this? I am really struggling to accept that sewing is not coming easily to me; no matter how much I practice, it continues to challenge me. I’d like to invite you to join me in not giving up on those things in our lives that are hard.

Letters Of Healing #2 – Letting It Out Is Important Too

I have a bad habit, I’ve acquired over the past few years: I bottle things up so people don’t leave me. Hi, I’m Magz and I have a problem. A two-prong issue, actually, I am not processing my feelings, and I am irrationally concerned about rejection. It’s not good. I was taught to believe by family and society that it was because of divorce, specifically placing the blame on my dad, and to be honest, I believed that for a long time. But that answer leaves all of us who have experienced that or who fear rejection in this weird pseudo-reality of things being out of our control, which doesn’t help. It turns the intensity up all while limiting personal growth. How can you move on if this is baked into your personality, right? I mean, everyone who knows your story will instantly know your flaws – your parent or parents “didn’t love you enough” to stick around. Yeah, this is a toxic bunch of nonsense.

So what has helped me get more clarity on this, honestly, is learning about what makes my mind tick and how I can work with myself to be healthier. For me specifically, learning about neurodivergence, and specifically the possibility of undiagnosed autism or adhd, has helped me understand that there might be more to my penchant for brutal honesty than just being an off-putting person or a bad person. It might be that my brain simply processes differently, yet because I want to fit in – masking, I fall into people-pleasing patterns to “fit in” with those around me. Similar to learning about high-masking autism in females, with adhd, there is a sensitivity to rejection and difficulty with emotional regulation that makes processing the rejection more difficult. I can see these in the ways I have interacted with people throughout my life, especially family members.

I get stuck in these camps of either feeling the need to be brutally honest, especially if I feel an emotional meltdown coming on from bottling everything up, or I clam up and shove it down, no matter how much it hurts to “please” the person. All this does is create a cycle of emotional repression, overwhelm, and meltdown behind the scenes. Loneliness, anger, bitterness, shame, fear of rejection, and pain. This is not what a healthy person looks like.

For too long, I’ve mistaken being “tough” with being healthy. It’s been the one-two punch of finding Elena Carroll’s reflective essays and watching Scrubs for these to start clicking in my brain. I find myself pinballing between being like Dr. Dorian, who lets people like Elliott walk all over him, and Dr. Cox, who shoves it all down and sinks into a pit of loneliness behind the shadows because dealing with my problems makes me feel uncomfortable.

My constant dysfunctional relationship, which gets more unhinged every year, my relationship with my mom is the place where I see all these problematic habits come to the surface. I will bottle something up for a decade, afraid of the confrontation, and then one day I will just explode about something else. To be fair, when I do blow up, it’s usually after my mom has contributed to my anger with a gem of guilt or a little nugget of criticism on some part of my personality. Like recently, I was told she was intentionally withholding her health updates after two concerning ER visits, because I am too “sensitive” to handle anything after I told her it has been scary thinking of being sick because I love her. Yep, I see where I have learned to shove everything down – you can’t be weak and express emotions, that’s for losers.

So where does that leave me? Well, I can either choose Option #1 – be honest about my frustrations and stand up for myself, which comes with consequences, Option #2 – bottle it up and fake a smile, all while my shoulders knit themselves into a stress knot and my jaw clenches like a bear trap, Option #3 – I avoid the relationship for months at a time and pretend like nothing happened. Lately, I’ve been thinking, why can’t I just be honest as it comes, instead of bottling up to the point where I am furious? I don’t live there anymore, there are no consequences for being honest gently, and in the moment that I disagree? That would be healthier, and somehow, over all these years, I forgot how to do this. Because adulthood is lonely. Grief is lonely. Sometimes that fear of rejection and people pleasing is all that you crave just to keep a relationship with a loved one steady, because you miss how easy it was when you were a kid.

I think health, though, might be more important than the illusion of peace, because I have not been managing stress well over the last ten years. My mental health took a toll, and so did my physical health. I’ve stored so much stress in my body, pretending I was happy about things that hurt me because I didn’t want to hear how I was different, not enough like my mom’s family, or weak for being sensitive, or a bad person for getting angry sometimes. I’ve had the same knot at the base of my neck for 5 years, which is not healthy at all. So what am I doing with all these revelations about who I am and what is healthy and what is not? I am slowly shifting through it. I’m taking space and a break from some of my more trying family relationships to get this stress worked out of my body and find my calm again. My husband, friends, and my beloved bun deserve better than for me to let things out of my control take a toll on my mental and physical health. Especially when they are the ones who pick up the pieces when I fall apart.

How do you manage stress? Do you struggle with people pleasing or bottling up emotions? Have people ever told you to change who you are to fit their standards?

Unmasking is Hard

The term “unmasking” was new to me when I first learned of my neurodivergence. I saw it on Pinterest and Instagram, displayed in captions and little relatable memes, but what did it mean?

I felt the full experience of what it means a few nights ago when I was invaded once again by rising anxiety, flooding through my mind, and this pressure, invisible yet firm, closing in on me. I knew deep down that I was close to having a meltdown, from environmental things that a neurotypical would brush off. I also knew that I couldn’t melt down; it wasn’t safe to be me. I couldn’t stim, that would be looked down upon with pity. I had to put on that mask, the normal-brained facade I’ve studied my whole life to become invisible and just blend into the sea of normies.

I feel this pressure to mask the most when I am interacting with my family. My mom and her side, for a brief time, my dad and his side. It’s a quagmire, being the offspring of two very domineering, neurotypical, narcissistic humans.

It’s a lot of work. Why am I sharing this? Because if you feel this way, you are not alone. I see you. I support you. I am rallying for you and I to make it through these moments holding space for us to be as we are, and to feel like we are enough. We don’t need to be fixed, we need to cope with this wild world that doesn’t understand us.

Like an ill-fitting garment, the clothes are the problem not your body. Your brain is not the problem, the world favors one way of doing things and that doesn’t make it right. Being louder doesn’t make your point more correct. There is nothing wrong with who you are and who you were created to be.

I hope wherever you are, this finds you well. That you are safe, loved, valued, and being kind to yourself. The world needs more kindness. Know that I love you and support you. Take the mask off, breathe, stim, and find peace.

Until next time ❤

To Bridget, Just As She Is: Accepting My Neurodivergence

One of my favorite scenes from Bridget Jones’ Diary is the dinner party at Bridget’s flat where she makes the blue soup and assorted congealed things. Despite the chaos and mishaps where she is authentically herself, Bridget’s friends and Mark Darcy toast her effort – “To Bridget…who we love…just as she is.”

In many ways, I identify with Bridget. I am a chaos monster who tries my hardest to not mess up, yet I do. I am a bit awkward, a bit of a goofball, I often feel out of place with who I think I should be compared to who I am if I am just myself. I spent most of my twenties trying to be someone I was not because I thought I needed to change to fit in. I wanted to succeed in life and my relationships, without getting to the root of why I felt like a weirdo.

Self-Reflection and Seeking Wise Counsel

I mentioned before that I discovered I was neurodivergent this spring because of the eclipse. I see now how poignant that timing was as my life would transform from April to July. Everything changed overnight, like everything, my relationship with my parents, my marriage, my living situation, my mental health, and the current direction of my life.

All for the better I can say with relief because life doesn’t always go that way. I see now that if I hadn’t been prepared for this season of life, things may not have changed for the better, my life could be in shambles instead.

Being unaware of my neurodivergent personality traits, caused me to feel uncomfortable, overwhelmed, and in a place of survival instead of feeling steady, relaxed, and open to the adventures life has for us. Changes seemed unbearable. Trust unthinkable. Faith was hard to find. I fought it, resisted letting go of control, and let God fully take the lead of what I was worried about.

Unbeknownst to me as to why I would need to brush up on wisdom, I felt led to study Proverbs at the beginning of 2024, and through this study, I was challenged to grow and broaden my approach to how I live life. To seek out wisdom, to prepare for things before they come in faith, to be fruitful with my time, and to guard my heart and mind from toxic patterns.

It was not an easy task, I really like wasting time and worrying about things that I can’t control. I can also be a negative person, instead of focusing on things that are positive and helpful, I’d circle down spirals of negative, snarky, toxicity. This kept me from seeing forgiveness, and being a cooperative person in my relationships, and made me too afraid to step out on faith for what God was planning for me. I needed to renew my mind!

God putting neurodivergence on my heart to look into opened so many doors, I see now, to understanding myself, my relationships, and what I truly want out of life. So as chaos descended in April, I was incredibly thankful that God went ahead of me and gave me such tools of understanding to navigate the big and scary things that were on the horizon.

Fights and Communication

A week before I learned that I was going to need a buy a house or move, my mom and I had a terrible fight. Like a really strange unavoidable fight like we were two asteroids on a crash course with each other.

At the time I was hurting and confused but through the fight, we actually accomplished huge milestones in communication. We placed new healthy boundaries and were brave enough to be honest with each other about what we needed. I was honest about my neurodivergence afterward because of the new safe space we created.

I didn’t know at the time but I had needed that safe space for a long time, over a decade, and I was going to need it immediately as my life was going to be in upheaval with the move and house-buying process.

Having my mom as my confidant, my buddy, and my raft in stormy seas, was exactly what I needed. It was incredible. From chaos to order. That’s how God works.

In the same way, understanding my neurodivergence helped me draw closer to Kyle, finally being able to communicate what I needed and how we could work together and support each other more effectively. It was something we were going to need to be able to work in sync to determine what we were going to do. If we planned to rent a new place or purchase a house, and if so, where? I can see now how all these little things were woven together to make these steps in faith easier because I sought out wisdom and prepared before the trial came.

Bridget, Just as She is

When things got tough, chaotic, and tricky for me to navigate as a highly sensitive person, neurodivergent, and struggling to navigate the change without feeling overstimulated and scared, I didn’t have to explain how I was feeling. Kyle, my mom, and Scott my dad were one step ahead and ready to catch me as I stumbled. Most importantly God was with me every step of the way, and it was incredible to feel His love through the people around me.

As we moved through the process, the move, the closing, the navigating the weird limbo between renting and buying, the move-in, etc. This wonderful, gentle landing place was there for me through the love of my family and friends and around me, the sensitivity toward what I needed. They made me feel loved and worthy through my vulnerable moments, encouraged me when I was feeling low, and comforted me when this world felt too big and too much for me.

I am forever grateful for this journey because I feel secure like I’m on solid ground again. I don’t feel like a weirdo anymore that needs to change to succeed. I feel ready for this world. Okay with who I am and not afraid to be myself because I am a little different.

I have accepted myself for who God created me to be, differences and all. My loved ones have reinforced this. I see this came together so seamlessly because I first sought wisdom, which helped me figure out what I needed from my relationships, and most importantly I learned to give my loved ones a chance to be there for me.

Letting people in is hard. It can also be incredibly rewarding. So is taking the time to encourage, accept, and support people who you love. When a community comes together, amazing things truly do happen, even on the smallest scale.

I challenge you to seek out wise counsel, self-reflection, and healthy boundaries, and find the people who love you just as you are. Be brave and let people see the real you. Be even more brave and support others, a random act of kindness goes a long way! For example on Saturday, my mom reached out and held my hand when we were in a big crowd. That small gesture reminded me that all the overstimulation I was feeling, was temporary and it was going to be okay.

Thank you, dear reader, for spending time with me today. ❤

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