Every Can't

I like to think of myself as a pretty strong person. I’m confident, independent and fearless. Intense, focussed and driven. According to my mother I’m “scary” because I get more done before breakfast than most people do all day. All of this is true when I’m in my element, but if I get pushed outside of my comfort zone I tend to crumble underneath the weight of every ‘can’t’ I hide behind. My world is divided very clearly between what I can and what I ‘can’t’ with the proverbial line-in-the-sand drawn so long ago I don’t ever remember a time I lived without my list of self-imposed limitations... until lately. You may say it’s growing older and more comfortable in my skin, but I’m pretty sure it’s Gaia that’s done it. Being her mother has made me question every ‘can’t’. If I want her to believe that anything is possible, then the very least I can do is lead by example.

For years I exercised half-heartedly, barely breaking a sweat with a half hour on the elliptical as I watched the hardcore runners on the treadmill. I’d look up training programs online before quickly reminding myself “I can’t run”. Still, as my world was falling apart over Christmas in Peru I began running along the boardwalk at the beach every morning. I did it as a way to escape when running in circles for forty-five minutes a day was as close as I could get to running away.

Walk nine minutes, runpantcrydie 1 minute.

When I came home I set my alarm for 6:00am every morning and learned to love the treadmill. These days I typically walk five minutes for every ten I run. One day while I watched Tiger Woods atone for his sins in a press conference booming from the gym TV I ran for the entire twenty-some minutes without even noticing. I’m seriously considering training for a marathon.

Running makes me feel strong, confident, independent and fearless. Running makes me feel brave.

I tried and failed at every attempt to learn the Spanish language in my years in university and beyond. I cried in the advising office and choked out “I can’t learn languages” until they believed the truth I’d created. Still, when Gaia was born I was determined she be bilingual so I enrolled in Spanish 100 at the University of Regina. I went to every class and studied for hours a day. I spoke to Gaia in broken Spanish and read her Spanish stories and conjugated verbs every night before bed.

Yo puedo, tú puedes, él/ella/ud. puede, nostoros(as) podemos, vosotros(as) podeís, ellos/ellas/uds. pueden.

I got an ‘A’ in Spanish 100, spoke the language every chance I got in Peru and enrolled in Spanish 101 when I got back. I aced it too. Last week I received the following letter.

I had officially declared my intention to get a Certificate in Spanish about a month ago.

Mastering Spanish makes me feel strong, confident, independent and fearless. Mastering Spanish makes me feel brave.

I started cooking meals from scratch and looking for freelance writing jobs and lifting weights. I sang out loud in Starfish class and made a monthly budget and applied for jobs that scared me (one of which, I now work at). I started dancing in the kitchen and dancing in the park and dancing at work. When I think of every ‘can’t’ I’ve left in my wake since Gaia was born I feel powerful, which is a very different thing than everyone just telling me I am. Especially when I remember that I did it all on three hours sleep with the very best of me going towards the epic tornado that is my daughter. In essence, sloughing off every ‘can’t’ that’s lurked in the shadows of my past is how she gets the very best of me.

She deserves to have a mother who is strong, confident, independent and fearless. She deserves to have a mother who is brave.