You know that moment–the moment when enough time has passed after a relationship where you see more clearly–when the scales lift from your eyes and you regain your sight. You look at the choices you made, and ask yourself: what took Me so long to change–and what the heck was I thinking??? That moment is literally eye opening. How did so much time pass with me in that situation? Why did I stay? Why did I even start?? I’ve had several of these situations in my lifetime–not just with romantic relationships, but others as well: jobs, volunteer positions, projects I took on before I counted the cost…..

Y’all know I’m a Lord of the Rings junkie. I’m reminded of the scene in Two Towers when Theoden receives his sight after years of blindly going through the motions because he was poisoned by lies, and overtaken by a destructive relationship with Grima Wormtongue. That scene comes to my mind front and center any time I come out of a mental fog. The scales are lifted and I can see—and I realize how blind I was. That’s a difficult thing to realize–that you’ve been blind, and made some serious mistakes while you were in that state–mistakes which may have ripple effects for a long time to come….

You know we all do it to some degree–allow ourselves to be lulled into complacency and blindness by our choices. How often to we allow ourselves to step back into blindness because (1) it’s easier (2) we don’t have the courage to change or (3) our pride keeps us from learning the lesson and admitting change is needed.

Think about it: 21 days into Whole 30 and you feel better, sleep better, brain fog is gone, your pants feel more comfortable….and on day 22…..you fall off the wagon and tell yourself: better luck next time….and go back to the way you were before.

Why does living free become so hard to maintain?

You’ve given up sugar/flour/gluten/booze for a number of days. Mornings are easier because you wake up alert and not with the booze/carb grogginess which clouds your morning mind. You experience a few days or even a few weeks of feeling amazing, and even remark to others how great you feel. One single Instagram post from The Yard Shake Shack pushes you over the edge and you fling your freedom out the window in exchange for a pint-sized mason jar piled high with vanilla bean ice cream, an oreo rim, and colored sprinkles on top. That gross, sluggish feeling returns–the feeling of consumption.

And you know that you do? Well, I know what *I* do? I sure as heck don’t say, Becky, we are never, ever going back to The Fog—nope—never, ever, ever–no matter how inconvenient, no matter whose Birthday it is, no matter if today stinks to high heavens—-nothing can ever get me to take one single taste of XYZ.

NOPE. Instead, we tell ourselves we *know* abstaining makes us feel better, but we just love Ice Cream shakes so much that we can’t help ourselves. We deserve it! We’re just going to treat ourselves–again. Giving in becomes the norm instead of the exception.

It’s just like Esau giving up his inheritance for a bowl of soup.

When I read that story as a teenager/young adult/adult-adult, I couldn’t even imagine being so cuckoo for CoCoPuffs to actually give up a real-life inheritance for something as temporary as a bowl of stew.

I.cannot.imagine.

But then, I ask myself how many times I personally tank my goals for something as temporary as a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup (or more appropriately the dark chocolate peanut butter cups from Trader Joes–swoon!). I can tell myself: well, it’s just a diet–I can hit reset and try again…..But I’ve done it. I’ve traded something temporary—something to just fill my desire just.for.a.moment. It may feel like a glorious moment when I satiate that little chickie voice inside my head peeping to feed the flesh, but then the moment is gone, and I am once again empty….

I’ve traded that little 5-15 minute experience for something of great importance–Me–my inheritance. It’s just a diet, a date, a hookup, a distraction, a temporary pause in progress……so what’s the big deal? The big deal is Me. What has a bigger magnitude than my own goals for myself–of bigger importance than the promises I made to myself?? What’s bigger than that?? What’s bigger than having years living in a healthy relationship where I’m treated respectfully as a partner…loved… cherished… admired? Why would I trade that for a shadow of what I could have just because I’m impatient and I need to be in a relationship to feel good about myself?? I’m on Let’s Make a Deal and I have A-New-Car! and I can’t help but trade it for door number 3—to get that hit of What If dopamine, and end up with a year’s supply of Hubba Bubba.

I’ve done that in dating. I’ve had plans, visions and hopes for the future, and traded all that for the fleeting feeling of someone who wants me to be Their Girl–ignoring everything else except my poor little heart excited because finally someone says they like me. I mean, I thought I was being intentional–and I actually was some of the time. I was picky and stuck to my guns in many situations putting so many in the Friend Box. But, waiting is exhausting. I’m like a racehorse at Kentucky Derby jumping around in the gate just waiting to be released to run run run towards that person I’m supposed to be with. Just open the gate already–I’m there!!! I’m ready!

In relationships, did I jump in too fast to be emotionally attached to someone to satisfy my need for companionship–to feel loved and cared for? Did I ignore the flags because I was too prideful to examine my position after I decided to be “all-in.” Sometimes I think my default setting is *always* all-in. That pattern has been repeated over and over again in my life.

Did I exchange my birthright for something temporary—something which met a need (like soup when you are hungry)? In the moment, that need seemed like the most important thing in my life, but I didn’t stop and ask myself what I was ultimately giving up to meet that need. Or perhaps I did ask myself that question, but being in the thick of it, I just didn’t care. I was hangry and that soup smelled mighty fine.

We allow ourselves to be poisoned by the lies we tell ourselves: that we are not enough; that we will fail, anyway; that we are too old; that it’s too hard to wait for the best, so the good-enough will have to do. Those lies lull ourselves into complacency–they blind us to the cost of giving up on ourselves. Like cataracts, the scales cover our irises ever so slowly—clouding our vision subtly, and we forget the colors of our lives and begin to exist in a dull, muted world. And we wonder why we don’t feel fulfilled anymore. We look at pictures of ourselves from a time when we lived in technicolor, and wonder where that girl went. How did my world turn so….beige???

Gandolf tells Theoden: Too long have you sat in the shadows and took crooked counsel. In the book, Theoden was hopeless–he had a string of really difficult losses and failures. He lost hope, which made him susceptible to Grima’s whisperings. Having Grima by his side gave Theoden what felt like support, empathy, understanding. Theoden’s emotional state did not allow him to see the truth of the situation–the scales of hopelessness covered his eyes to truth. When Gandolf reminds Theoden of his power and purpose as a King, and quieted Grima’s counsel, hope began to color the king and sight was restored.

That’s what happens when you lose hope–you retreat inside yourself–you stop trusting your ability to make wise and lasting choices. We desperately need to rekindle the fires of hope in our lives: hope we can live free; hope in living our best selves; hope that we will be seen, accepted, cared for, and loved; hope in having a role in something much bigger than ourselves. Hope that we matter.

As for me, I want to be more like the fully realized Theoden–holding his sword, ready to do whatever it takes to prevail. Counting the cost and still not wavering. Not just stepping a toe into the waters of greatness, but sitting astride his white steed, Snowmane, galloping towards the light. Like Theoden, I am holding onto Hope knowing it may be wild ride.

Next: The Weekend Blues