Mid-Season, Ranch Dressing and a Meltdown...

This ain’t about ranch dressing more than it’s about the fact that it wasn’t readily available to me. Lol. That sounds incredibly spoiled and while I understand that it’s not an actual problem in comparison to what’s going on in the world today, not being able to run to Harris Teeter’s to grab some was the ranch missing on the wing that sent me over the edge. Nothing felt like home and at the very least I wanted to elevate these foreign flavors with a touch of familiar warmth. To say the least, I was missing home and the “me” I used to be. Add dry chicken to that and you had the recipe for an emotional disaster.

If you’re still thinking this is about ranch, I need you to follow a little closer.

You can imagine my surprise when my husband asked me if I needed to give my old therapist a call. He wasn’t trying to be funny and I wasn’t trying to be oblivious but the truth is, I was depressed, he picked up on it and I didn’t. Mid-Season was taking me out.

I had been so preoccupied with telling myself that this lifestyle was a fairytale blessing and nothing else, that I hadn’t noticed how I was neglecting the other part of me that was having a tough time adjusting this season. I didn’t realize that the pile of “other truths” I was building and leaving at the edge of my bed was taking up space. It was ruining my sleep and draining my optimism; keeping me isolated. The ranch dressing was simply the messenger I shot.

Something so small; something so irrelevant to the bigger picture was the string that unraveled an already sensitive “me”. I didn’t anticipate that in year two of being an overseas basketball wife, I would be facing myself and this new lifestyle with such a poor defensive line. You couldn’t tell me that I hadn’t grown calluses on this life strong enough to ONLY feel the best in this life. I thought I had shed the worst of self-discovery, loneliness and restlessness in year one. I struggled, but I gave myself grace to feel all the feels that came with new beginnings in foreign places. The tears, the boredom with my free but monotonous Tuesdays and the uncertainty of who I am were all things of the past —I thought.

It took that one last reminder that I wasn’t “at home” and running at my usual pace to suddenly feel the weight of the world on my shoulders; to feel the duality of guilt and gratitude that he noticed I was sad on a game day. I felt the new free time I had and how I had no way to fill it with something I could be proud of; something he could support ME in. I felt the lack of ambition and talent I used to thrive in suddenly disappear. I felt the pressure to contribute to the relationship with more than just housekeeping and good company. I felt the uselessness when I couldn’t find the right words to say when his head wasn't in the game. I felt the sting of monotony in my schedule. I felt the punch of humility when I had to rearrange my rare plans because we only have one car and his practices come first. THEY MUST ALWAYS come first.

Essentially, this lifestyle was becoming more of the same and I was becoming less of the same person I thought I’d still be. I was unable to hold onto that version of me after I got married to an amazing man with a HUGE life. A life that would forever change mine. A life that would physically shift me. And while I’m grateful to be here and see all of the things I could only dream about back then, the truth is, it gets tough when the pressure hits to be the same me under these very different circumstances. It kind of hurts when you don’t know how to get unstuck and move with the flow. It hurts even more when you try to pretend that you aren’t stuck. Das me.

DO NOT GET ME WRONG. While I acknowledge some of the internal truths, thoughts and identity crises some of us go through, stamping my passport to this life with him was the best decision I have ever made. The best flight I've ever booked! It brings me joy to be the person with a front row seat to my husband’s accomplished goals. I am honored and truly blessed. I’ve never missed a game and I don’t intend to. I’ve met the most amazing people along the way and let me tell you, God has this way of putting the perfect people in place for your seasons both on and off the court. I live an incredibly privileged life.

However, I would be sweeping it all under a rug if I didn’t talk about this new freedom that comes with discovering that it’s okay to feel ugly things in beautiful places. YOU CAN CRY UNDER THE EIFFEL TOWER SIS. YOU CAN IN FACT HAVE A MELTDOWN WITH THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA TICKLING YOUR TOES (I personally have).

The goal for this particular blog post is not to fix your frustrations or build your stamina for what’s to come. You’re allowed to have weak ankles sometimes.(Thank God we aren't the basketball pros). This post, my first one...is to show you that it is okay to be absolutely sure of the decisions you’ve made and still sometimes have a tough time with what follows them. This lifestyle is not for the faint of heart….but IT DOES require gentleness with yourself, grace and courage to acknowledge all of YOUR heart things.

Listen, I see you…I hear you and I am you. We can relate. Feel all your feels girl. Its power for the course. You’re not alone in this and you will get to your own final destination.

Also...I found Caesar Dressing and my mom shipped me the rest. There's always a way. ;)

See you on the sidelines...