"Why hadn't I realized how much of what I thought was love, was simply my own highly developed gift for making lemonade?"
---Nora Ephron, "I'm Sad About My Neck"
That statement pretty much sums up the first 44 years of my life. I have always, always, always 'made lemonade'.
It was my finest gift and it carried me through many a dysfunctional relationship. Through childhood, such that it was. Through men and a first husband.
My lemonade-making ability was noted and admired by others. That fueled my lemon squeezing and sugar-coating. My life was not all rainbows and roses and puppies and kittens, but you would have never known it.
Heck, I didn't even know it.
Lemonade-making was born of necessity, of survival in my family of origin. It was all I knew and over time, it became me. I was a lemonade-making, sunshiney chameleon; in many ways, a happy idiot.
Successful by the worlds' standards, loved by many; unknown to myself.
Wow. I am sad for the former me. I did not know any better. I did not know another way. Dissociative episode after dissociative episode = my first 30 years. ouch.
So, now, I am well into my 40th decade of life and I would not go back to the old me (except my waistline, and... my chin). This healthier version of me has been hard-won, God-given and is precious to me. I know who I am, what I am good at and am learning to be OK with me, as I really am. What a gift.
Part of this journey, I am sure, is a result of the aging process. Mellowing and all that. But I know people who have become bitter with age, so that alone is not responsible for the ease I feel. My faith is likely part of the equation, but again, not entirely. I know we all know unhappy Christians.
So, I will give credit to my Maker, for continuing the good work He begins in us, until it is completed. He brings my thinking into alignment with His wisdom, loves me unconditionally, and leads gently and surely.
I am just glad to no longer be trying to make lemonade where there was only ummmmm...dung.
Thank you, Lord.