Demands and Respect

I think I've had my first taste of what being a mom is about. It's truly just a small taste. Just the tip of my pinky. But here it is: Lots and lots of being asked and lots and lots of wanting the best and most perfect outcome, but having to shed grace. Lots and lots of grace.

This job is so freaking interesting. I hate that I am that girl who always writes about her job, but let's get real honest for a second on a side tangent.

I don't have much else going on.

I basically eat, sleep, and breath work. When I'm not physically in the office, I'm either on the phone with nomads or on my email working to book screenings or at some event on behalf of LiNK or at the house that I live, which is LiNK housing.

Riding my bike, is the only true escape I have. No access to internet, no LiNK coworker by my side. So, the reality is very real. Work is my life.

So, back to the lesson that I have been learning. Demands and respect. Not an ounce in my body wants to fulfill demands placed upon me when there is little respect being garnered. I can only imagine this is what my mother must have felt on those days when I was being the brat I was great at being. Why should she fix me dinner? Why should she scratch my back? Why should she help me find my missing sock?

If it was any one else. A stranger off the street, a next door neighbor, another Girl Scout's mom. She would have no reason to do things for someone who blatantly gave her no respect.

Nada.

But it was me. Her kid, her daughter, so of course she did those things for me. She blessed me with grace, forgave me for my horrible mistakes, and scratched my back when I was scared to sleep in the dark.

Unconditional love. I need to learn this stuff.