As you may have seen in a few of our posts recently, Model Behaviors is currently in the process of our next revamp. It’s important to keep the site fresh and authentic—embracing the now—both internally and externally and as a community. Sharing our individual journeys makes us a stronger whole.
Each one of our Behaviorists has her own page with a collage that speaks volumes. The photos in those collages contain stories that tell of where they’ve been and where they’re headed. These pages are refreshingly honest, glimpses into our souls and who we are at the moment. Our theme words try to sum it all up. For the last few months, mine read Chapters. It was a nostalgic period in my life, leading up to Darlington’s birth. My greatest hits reel kept replaying in my head, and I knew after her arrival, nothing would ever be the same. Every experience in my life was preparing me for this—moment, chapter, role, truth—and after I held her for the first time, I knew. I was changed!
Everyone kept telling me I looked different. I seemed different. According to my friend who went to Stanford (how intimidating is that?), even my writing was different. The old me would’ve been like you read my stuff. But the new me—the one who labored at home until I dilated to 8 cm, the one who saw my placenta fly across the room, the one who didn’t care if I pooped myself (by the way, I didn’t)—this me reveled in my new unabashed freedom. I finally got it. I understood why women sought each other out to talk about their birth experiences. And if you ever run into me in the grocery store and want to stand around to talk about my birth experience, I’ll drop whatever I’m doing and tell you about it. Whether a woman has a wonderful experience or a horrific one, birth is miraculous. It’s hard not to feel triumphant (having won a battle—victorious) about it.
So when my Stanford friend asked me what had changed, I thought, everything. This new me feels unapologetic about life now. I’d rather try new things, chase dreams, and make mistakes, than to never try at all and have regrets. There’s beauty in battle scars, whether I win or lose, because they’re reminders that I did it. I turned to my friend and just as quickly as I said “everything,” I am triumphant filled my heart.
With 2015 coming to an end and 2016 beginning anew, I chose triumphant as my latest theme word, replacing my old one to close out this year. I’ll start the New Year, as the new triumphant me, and I wonder…is there a single word guiding you or preparing you for 2016?