A little late? The car was totaled, I was hurt and in shock, surrounded by the flashing lights of emergency vehicles, and I’m going to be a little late? For body work? Make that “a little late, but we now have a pemanent relationship.
An uber-responsible reaction is one sure sign I’ve pulled on my Big-girl Britches to Rise to the Challenge. My Big Girl Britches have gotten my through a lot of crap. When something hard needs to be done, there she is. She knows she can count on her common sense and guidance to get to the other side of through. But there’s a cost, too. She tends to push too hard, be too ambitious, thinks she knows stuff (like how long it takes to heal).
Fast forward through the adrenaline and its let-down, and I’m (almost) keeping my original appointments with clients. My work almost always gives me energy back. And the inquiry I do for others almost always turns out to be just what I need to examine for myself.
Within a couple of days,I worked with two different clients on the thought that they have to tough it out, put on their “big girl britches.” After we talked, my entire last few days passed through my head. The times I told myself and others that I was all right when I wasn’t. The times I believed I had to do things for myself when I didn’t.
Then my life passed before me. Layers and layers of times I’ve responded to crises, BIG challenges by pulling on my Big Girl pants. I could see all those situations where that capability had served me. I was filled with gratefulness for having the ability to trust that inner resolve when I needed it. It had helped me.
AND I knew I didn’t need it any more. The stiff upper lip was bruised and battered. Underneath it was a surrender so profound I knew it could be trusted.
As a woman called Rev Deb put it, “Courage is the willingness to take a step toward the path of your own surrender.”
Although I did not willingly take that step, I could see there really wasn’t a mistake. Life was asking me to surrender my capable, confident identity and bravely open to reality. I could choose real courage or the Big Girl Pants.
So I did what any Truly Big Girl does. I threw away the magical pants and surrendered to my life.
When do you “suck it up” and push through the moment? How do you experience your own Big Girl Britches? When might you question the need to pull them up?