So, this is how I love.

Mr. Z's birthday is coming up!
I knew this was the case, but I didn't know the exact date until I looked at his adoption papers this week.
March 16, 2009-- my little boy is going to turn 3!

I can't begin to tell you the excitement that I had this week. I went into full-on party-planning mode and looked up birthday cakes and dog cake recipes for him. I felt an out-of-control excitement about making his FIRST birthday with me very special and very meaningful.  For him and for me! With a history of abuse and such serious separation anxiety, I want to celebrate Mr. Z. and let him know he is SO loved and adored.

In the midst of scouring the internet, I had an out-of-body experience watching myself get so excited.  I wondered, "who am I?"  "Who is this woman who is so excited celebrating a dog's birthday, and even planning to have a party and party invitations to friends with and without dogs?"  "Who is she and what did she do to the person that was there before?"

The me before = dog-hater.  Yes, I hated dogs starting at the age of 8 when my brother (age 6 at the time) was attacked by an Akita and almost had his entire right ear bitten off. I was next to my brother when it happened and we were at my dad's friend's house having a BBQ celebration on a warm summer day.  It should have been a perfect night, and I remember even thinking that when it happened.  One minute, I was feeling present and grateful for such an amazing summer night.  The next minute, I heard a sound and turned to see the gigantic Akita on top of my brother.  The night quickly turned from heaven to hell.  Absolute hell. We rushed to the ER, the doctor was an asshole who took his time coming (he had the audacity to ask if we would pay cash because then he'd come faster), and then afterwards, I had to go home with only my dad and worry about my brother.  I thought about giving up my ear for my brother. And it really was such a painful and terrifying process for him. After that incident, my entire family hated and feared dogs. Even teenie tiny ones like Yorkies and Chihuahas.  In college, when walking from one place to another, I would change paths if I saw someone heading toward me walking a dog.

Yup. That's the backstory. That's why I'm sometimes still surprised that I a) adopted a dog this year, and b) love my dog as much as I do.  It's even more of a surprise that I'm soooooooooooo into celebrating him and being the animal lover that I never thought I could be (and would actually roll my eyes at)!

So, now you can see why I'm in disbelief about my own behavior.  I realized I needed a reality check and quickly messaged one of my oldest childhood friends to ask her what was happening to me.  I asked her the same questions I asked myself!  "Who am I?" Am I acting out-of-character?" "Why am I acting so out-of-character?" "What is happening to me?"

When she responded, her answer was better than anything I could have ever come up with.  Yay! Thank goodness for friends who really really know me-- even better than myself sometimes!  She said to me that she did NOT think I was acting out-of-character and that I'm quite consistent with myself.  She remarked that THIS IS HOW I LOVE and THIS IS HOW I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED-- whether it is for a family member, for a partner, etc. etc.  She said that for me, it's clear that I love Mr. Z. and want to make him happy.  So, taking all this into consideration, she did NOT think I was behaving strangely, and in fact, she thought I was being VERY VERY ME.

Her response set be back.

Wow.

That was such an eye-opening response and a very compassionate way to see myself.  Since getting her perspective , I've begun to reflect on why I'm so judgmental towards myself, and why I'm not able to be more strength-oriented when it comes to viewing myself.  I also learned through my friend's modeling of how to treat myself. Rather than frame my excitement into something negative, my friend reminded me to see myself in a positive light, in a realistic but encouraging light, and to offer myself more kindness, non-judgmentalness, and of course, compassion to myself.