After the “Year of Yes”, maybe it’s time for the “Year of No”

I’m going through a particularly negative phase right now, building up frustration because my physical therapy seems to be regressing. It was going pretty kick ass a few weeks ago and suddenly it became harder and more painful once again. I have no idea why that is happening – we haven’t changed any of the PT protocols – but the physical therapist and the mental health counselor and I are trying to work on it. My PT isn’t sure what is going on and my counselor thinks that my body is conditioned to have sex be painful, so that’s its default. When I do the therapy, my mind thinks, “Oh. Ok. Something’s in there, so it’s going to hurt. That’s what happens. We put something in the vagina and…ouch. Ok. I get it.” Unfortunately, the frustration I feel just circles around and around and then spills over into the rest of my life. I’m working to fight the negativity, but it’s a challenge. 

I suppose it’s meant to be challenging, but I hate that this one part of my life seems to be defining me now. I realize it’s all in my head (once again, I know that’s a big part of the whole problem), but I get tired of feeling that I’m allowing myself to be defined by what is happening with my vagina. Because let’s be real here, no one but me really cares what is going on with my vagina. (Once again, this is also probably a big part of the problem. Ha! I make myself laugh. I'm totally turning this into a stand-up routine when PT is done.). I don’t think other people are defining me by that body part…and it would be creepy if they are, so keep that one to yourself please. I guess I’m frustrated by my frustration. Good grief but I’m a real piece of work!

Stewing so much over my lack of PT progress has taken my focus off of being happy, which has been my general state for the past year. Good things have happened, less-than-good things have happened, but it’s all been a learning experience and while I’m a little down right now, I don’t really want to be complaining. I want to pull my head out of my heinie and see the brighter side of life again.

Last year, a few days after my 44^th birthday, I declared it the “Year of Yes”. I know, I know. No one really cares anymore. I’ve talked about this much too much. Not that it will stop me this time, mind you. The basic premise of the “Year of Yes” was to start saying yes more than I say no. To open myself up to the possibility of new experiences and opportunities. To give the universe the chance to throw more things my way or, as I prefer to think of it, to be open to the things that God brings into my life.

It’s actually gone quite well, in spite of a bumpy ride at times. Sometimes I have to push myself to say yes when I’d rather say no, but I can’t recall much of anything not working out for the better once I stepped outside of my comfort zone. Those bumps just wake you up sometimes and keep you paying attention.

For some reason I feel like I need to put an end to the “Year of Yes” and I got to thinking this week that maybe up next should be the “Year of No”. That doesn’t mean doing a sudden 180 by saying no to everything all the time though. I think it’s more about saying “no” to all the negativity I tend to wrap myself up in. Saying “no” to the things that will do more harm than good. Saying “no” to things like excessive spending or excessive eating. And by saying no, finding that perhaps I’ll be kinder to myself and right now I could use some kindness. 

I’m still formulating the parameters of this new year, but much like me in a yoga or Pilates class, they will be fluid and flexible. Being so damned uptight all the time is what got me into some of my current predicament. It’s time to say “no” to that, too.