I am Nancy Botwin.

I’ve caught on to the craze of Weeds, albeit many years too late. Luckily Netflix has all of the season ready to plan at my whim. As I’ve watched Nancy Botwin make shapr decisions with a dash of well-meaning but bad decisions, I started to identify her.

Here is a women who did not expect to end up in this situation - a widow, now single mom with two boys. Though her decision to sell drugs may fall on morally questionable ground at best, she attempts to take control of an out-of-control situation and make something better happen.

I’m only on Season 3, so please no spoilers - but so far she follows a pattern that she is trying to control what she can in an out-of-control life. But due to things outside of her control, and some decisions that she brought on herself, things spin even more wildly out of control and when she starts to get overwhelmed, she acts out. She does crazy stuff that leaves you wondering “Why are you doing that girl? you are better than that!” Isn’t that exactly what my friends and I have been asking of myself lately?

I am sure my friends are tiring of the endless barrage of texts that fly faster than my brain can process a logical thought. I’ve been running on almost pure emotion fueled by fading dreams, lofty ideals and Black Box Pinot Grigio.  I admire my friends for their kindness and support as I attempt to bring what was an out of control situation under control, but I can only imagine what goes through their minds when I start to get overwhelmed, feeling the restrictions on my life tighten and suffocate, and I act out - to break the pain, to feel some sense of control - even if the action actually causes more chaos and will inevitably result in a sense of lost control again (both for me and for my gal, Nancy!).  In the moment, acting out feels like freedom. You can see it in Nancy when she got the U Turn tattoo - she was acting out to be breaking free of her life’s restrictions for that one moment.

I want to thank my amazing friends for being by my side. I would apologize for the emotional rollercoaster that I jump on and off of, but the truth is, until you’ve walked in my shoes, you don’t know who you would be. I still don’t know who I am.  Just like Nancy’s husband’s death changed her, my husband’s affair and destruction of our family changed me. Maybe I’m still muddy on who is underneath but I have a pretty good idea of who is there - and she’s pretty freaking badass.