I love you because you sucked out my brain for awhile…

I have not had any inspiration in a while. I realize that saying that may not mean a whole lot. But for me, it’s a first. Usually, no matter what is going on in my life, I always can sit down and write… At least something. It may not be good, moving, inspirational, grammatically correct, or even readable, but it was at least something. Even stream of consciousnesses have disappeared. I switched to art for awhile. But there’s always been some sort of ultimate joy and satisfaction from creating a picture or idea from words I can put in a specific order, my order, and neatly express my thoughts. Ok, so maybe sometimes not so neatly. Sometimes, messy is more fun anyway.

Over the last I few months, I have grown, more than I thought I could.
I have realized that I work differently than most people in my life.
I’ve learned that I can express myself clearly and in ways others can relate to.
I’ve learned than not everyone can, and I’ve watched how frustrating it can be. Which made me more grateful for the ability.
I’ve learned that I can read between the lines in places that silence fills.
I’ve learned that pain is easiest to see in those places.
I’ve learned that most people just want to know that someone understands their story, and view. And that connecting on that level is all most need to heal some of that pain.
I’ve learned that parents can do more damage to their child’s ability to launch into a successful future by simply uttering any phrase or word that the child could interpret as “you will fail”.
I’ve learned there are A LOT of phrases that qualify.
I’ve learned that when someone is not quite an adult, is when they need to hear, more than ever, that they are capable of reaching those long-forgotten dreams. Or even better, that they are allowed to dream and have the brains, skills, and drive to chase them.
I’ve learned that sometimes, parents forget that their children still need them, even when it feels like they would rather never see you again.
I’ve learned that asking a hurting, lost kid how they are, may not seem like it makes a difference now… But it does.
I’ve learned, never, ever judge a book by its cover. There are a lot of treasures, first-edition, hand-bound, one-of-a-kinds that show a little wear and tear… But once you start reading, you’ll never want to put it down.
I’ve learned that adventures come at unexpected times, frequently, but most of us usually ignore the opportunity because it’s too much of a disruption to our daily lives.
I’ve learned that teenage boys and girls desperately need someone to believe in them, and tell them they are loved, unconditionally.
I’ve learned I can be a mom to someone even though I haven’t been there since day one.
I’ve learned that my family will never be too big. Ever.
I’ve learned there is nothing more valuable than the things I can offer that didn’t cost money, just time.
I’ve learned that my parents did a phenomenal job and I can still learn from them daily.
I’ve learned that I will do whatever I want to do, because that’s who I am, but sometimes its ok to incorporate things that others may want to do too.
I’ve learned that I can show my kids that I can turn dreams into reality and sometimes, I have to color, not only outside the lines, but maybe off the paper to make it happen.
I’ve learned that my sobriety is the most important thing, and that controlling and protecting it is the greatest things I can do for myself, my dreams, and my family.
And I’ve learned that I have enough rebeliousness, red hair, and fire in me to still fight like hell for all the things I’ve learned, believe in, and dream about.

Posted in 2015, Life, Loss, Love | Leave a comment

I love you because you killed my high…

Dreams. I used to think that everyone had at least one. That house, the one you’ll call home forever and ever, family portrait over the fireplace. That car that you always can’t help but stare at as you drive past the dealership. Those 2 kids you see sometimes in your sleep, with names you’ve had picked out since high school. The perfect job that pays you enough for everything you need, and sometimes everything you want too. That partner, who shares every single part of your life with you, in perfect harmony. The dreams that becomes your motivation and drive. Constantly improving, pushing past boundaries you didn’t think you were capable of. I thought everyone had at least some of these.

Then I realized, the ones that dream, those are the lucky ones. The ones that can internally pull their strength out to the surface and use it to move them closer to what is theirs. But not everyone is that lucky, some lose theirs. I have spent a lot of time lately with a people that have forgotten how to dream. Forgot that they are worth more than what they’ve settled for. That they could do more than just survive every day, that they are worth more. Every day is endlessly repeating, and every ounce of their strength is used to make it till bed so they can survive to do it again tomorrow. It’s more than just the inability to remember how to dream, they’ve lost all hope and self-worth, often they are self-medicating. I’ve found that the point in which someone’s dreams fade into non-memories and when they feel the inescapable appeal to numb usually are indistinguishable from one another. I still can’t figure out which one happens first.

I can look into sparkless eyes, and lose myself in the mass emptiness. Wishing I could reach back in time to wherever their spirit was broken beyond repair and hold it together for them, just enough to give them the strength to hope.

I was one of those people. I had forgotten I had dreams of any kind, for a long time. Until someone did reach back in time for me and held me together long enough so I could remember what I wanted so badly at one point. All it took was the smallest gesture, someone reminding me that I had a choice to live a better life than the one I had been settling for. That I was worth everything I was capable of, and my options are limitless. I’ve found my dreams again and this time they feel closer than ever.

So now my only question is how far would you be willing to go to protect and pursue your dreams?

Posted in 2014, Life | Leave a comment

I love you because you completely destroyed me…

Bad luck. All the phrases associated with it. “That person is bad luck”, “you’re having a string of bad luck”, “don’t do that it means you’ll have bad luck”, “oh, bad luck!”. I have felt those phrases in a very personal way for as long as I can remember, even more so over the last few years. I’ve not only felt them but I also have had them directed at me and my family. At one point, a well meaning friend told me if I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all. Tragedy after heartbreaking tragedy hit me and my family. Each time, we all would feel completely battered and broken and unable to go on, hoping the next round of ‘bad luck’ would give us enough time to breathe before hitting again. To say it sucked for years, would be an understatement.

The problem was, I made a series of choices, the outcomes could have been good or bad, but they usually favored the more negative side, every single time. It became routine to expect the worst, never even hoping for a second that the best was ever going to be an option. We became incredible at surviving, barely. I remember talking to family and friends and telling them I had felt like I was drowning for so long that I didn’t remember what it felt like to breathe. Or how exhausting it was to always constantly be putting out fires. We lost everything. Including sense of safety, security, and sanity. More than once.

I can tell you I know what it’s like to live in a completely hopeless world. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, there was no end in the tunnel. Dreams were something forgotten and dismissed. How could we dream when we barely knew how to make it until bedtime that day? Sometimes moments were counted one breath at a time.

It broke us, completely enveloping me and my family in a very uncomfortable place for a very long time. Then, not long ago, on schedule, another heartbreaking event. But this time, I believe I had been broken to nothing and had already begun building a stronger, survivor series family. This blow – this hurricane, glanced off like it was nothing more than a minor irritation. For awhile, all of us heald our breaths and waited for the pain, loss, grief and agony. But this time, there was nothing but laughter. Since then, a few other ‘incidences’ have occurred. Each one armed and battle ready – dying before we even had to fight it.

I had a friend tell me the other day that I must be done or through my steak of bad luck because I was happier and seemed less burdened. I smiled, looking back and reflecting. It wasn’t bad luck, it was breaking and rebuilding. There will always be unfortunate events that look devastating. But instead of attributing things to bad luck, I can look at things as another opportunity to put one more brick onto my impenitrable sanctuary. I’m not scared of bad luck, and all those things that come with it. I now know we can face anything and not only will it be easy(er)’ it might be fun, and we aren’t looking behind anymore waiting for the next big blow. Because we know no matter what there is waiting in the future, we’re untouchable.

Posted in 2014, Life | 1 Comment

I love you because you burned me to inspiration…

Inspiration. The launching point of motivation and desire. Everyone gets their inspiration at different times through different outlets. Sometimes the same act or incident or thought or dream will inspire only one out of many that experienced similarly. But, isn’t that all it takes sometimes? One person, inspired – driven – completely immersed in the desire it birthed, that anyone caught in the path, can’t help but feel just a little different in the wake.

I am inspired because I survived, but beyond that I get to live now. It’s been more than a decade of survival. Answering the question “how are you?” With “surviving”. Because that was good enough, that’s all I needed to keep going. But at what point was it not enough? Survival became stale and stagnant. Then what? Nothing inspired, nothing motivated, it all just… Was. Until I started to move outside of the daily survival routine. The constant reminders from countless that cared, pounding into me over and over… Eventually taking hold.

I was inspired that a dear friend felt comfortable enough to tell me their untold story, to show me tears that no one ever would guess were there.

I was inspired because someone took the time to tell me every single day that they believed in me and that the impossible things I was only beginning to dream would become my reality.

I was inspired because of the man that always puts his family first. In unselfish and incredible ways.

I was inspired because I watched someone lose it all and still smile, every day. Then they lost everything again and used the pain to teach me to laugh.

I was inspired because of the person who unselfishly gave anything she had to another with nothing more than the hopes that it was making their life better.

I was inspired when I realized that someone did care, and would make sure I knew even if it was just a text every once in awhile to say they were there.

I was inspired when I learned family is more than distance, time, and blood.

I was inspired when I watched unconditional steadfast forgiveness. Over and over. Along with patience I still don’t understand.

I was inspired because I looked back and saw somewhere I never wanted to look at again.

I was inspired when I realized how many still didn’t give up, no matter how hard they were shoved away.

I am inspired because all these things amount to not only a second, third, but thousandth-chance, time forgiven and proof of unwavering faith in something I’m just beginning to be able to see.

I am inspired because you taught me to let go, in the most graceful, peaceful way.

I am inspired because I know now what I am, who I am, and where I am supposed to be.

I am inspired because no longer do I just have to survive. For the first time, in longer than I can remember, I can breath, live, dream, and prove. For no one else, but me.

There is a dream. I have been inspired to turn this dream into reality, and before I blink, it’s already begun.

Posted in 2014, Life, Loss | Leave a comment

I love you because you let me fail first…

I’m staring at a pool. Not one made of tile or concrete, but one that was formed naturally. It is unique like a snowflake, shaped in ways only the water it holds determines. Such a small pool of water, too small for the title of pond, too big to be called a puddle. I’ve been watching it for as long as I can remember. Watching it evolve. The water has been pushing the stone boundaries outward, ever persistent and determined to continue expanding. The life it protects inside, grows and changes. I see something different every day. It seems to have moods, reactions to its surroundings. Sometimes, it’s still and calm. So calm, I can get lost in the eyes of the face that stares back at me, or the vivid details of the diverse life that calls it home. The peace and tranquility spreads like it’s contagious. Other times, I watch as it fights invisible storms, winds that blow beneath the surface. The waves evicting its possessions without prejudice. My heart breaks, watching what was once full of life, part of a larger entity, be alone. Without the protection of the pool, it will die. Lately, the pool has been in chaotic turmoil. All life it carries is ejected, to wither, and eventually become what was. It’s hard to leave such amazing things separated from their natural environment, knowing how much was invested in growing them to their beautiful maturity. But I know when things are caught in the storms and removed, I can let them go. What it is replaced with is always stronger and more beautiful than what was there before.

It’s been storm after storm for as long as I can remember. The calm, still water, has become harder and harder to recall. I would use the quiet moments to recharge and renew focus. Without the tranquility, I’ve been looking for comfort in the violence, rarely do I succeed. The constant turmoil is exhausting. I reached a point of complete hopelessness. Multiple failed efforts to save any pool inhabitants are washed away. I was ready to walk away, give up completely and the water became unnaturally calm. The only evidence of the battle that existed moments ago was a small ripple from the very center. Barely noticeable. As I watched, the pool’s clear water faded into a murky greenish-brown – opaque, swallowing everything. The tiny ripple took shape, a perfect twirling circle. The mild swirling extended it’s reach and at the pools edge, pushed itself back inward. Gaining strength with every ring that touched the boundaries, the water became black. Foam outlines evidence of the strength that the quiet spiral carried. The white froth against the black water made intentions even clearer; drilling towards the center. The swirling continued relentlessly, and eventually, the last survivors of the pool were stripped away and completely destroyed. I stared, wondering why the whirlpool wasn’t showing any sign of tiring. Everything had been removed, so why would it continue. As I watched, I realized, some things were still there, in the deepest, darkest corners, hiding. Tirelessly, it spun, never letting up speed or intensity. Eventually, the remaining evidence of the past float to the top, and were flung out like a slingshot. When the last small stubborn growth was clear of the boundaries, the whirlpool slowed down. Spinning, turned into gentle waves, then to swells, finally still. The bottom of the pool settled, the water clearer than I ever had seen it before. What I saw was incredible. The walls were clear, every scrubbed dark corner, reflected the light back to the surface. There was no algae, no fungus, nothing growing or clinging inside at all.bI looked closer at the surface, trying to see anything left. I had been watching and even helping this pool for a long time. All the things I had grown to love, nurtured to life and maturity, everything I was proud of because of its beauty was gone. Then I realized when I stared at the glassy surface, that the only thing I could see at all, was me.

Everything that used to be in the pool had been blocking, altering my image. At times, it was impossible to even see my reflection. I let my pool get out of control. Instead of trying to remove the core or cause, I was adding more so hopefully no one could see the wild-uncontrolled parts. I understood now, the best place to build stronger, better, and more spectacular, is with a solid foundation. I have a second chance to make my pool anything I want it to be. This time I’m going to do it right.

Posted in 2014, Life, Loss, Love | Leave a comment

I love you because you hold my hair when I’m puking….

I have had a full life. I thought about what I wanted to do in life, what I wanted to accomplish and the answer is always the same. At least the broad picture answer. I want to make a difference. I want to matter, to leave a positive impact. I want to have someone look back and say I changed them, helped them make better decisions, saved them from some sort of pain they were headed toward, or helped them get through some struggle. Along the way though there has been several people, and I’m sure there will be more, that will make this kind of difference in my life.

One in particular has made the biggest impact. No matter what the situation or how lost I feel or how unvalidated I think my feelings are this person is always there cheering me on, reminding me I matter. They tell me that things will be ok. They have always been there, unwavering and unconditionally.

Our relationship didn’t always used to be like this. We weren’t anywhere near this close to each other. While the love has always been there, the ‘like’ sometimes not so much. In the last few years, I have had the realization that the wisdom this person carries far exceeds almost anyone I have ever known. When they give advice, not only is it good advice, but I have the security knowing it is always with my best interest in mind. They live as an example and I can use their life as a reference guide when I come to a decision I am unsure of.

This person has made my unglamorous and difficult (because of my own decisions) life seem like something I should be proud of, instead of shameful as I do often. While I used to feel on a lesser level than them, in the last few years, they have made an effort to strengthen our friendship instead of just our relationship. We’ve begun to make memories that will be the favorites I carry long into my older years. There’s been moments, especially through the last few years, I know the only reason I’m alive is because of their concern for my wellbeing.

They have forgiven me over and over for not only blatantly disregarding their warnings of the pending doom I insisted on running towards, but also for the pain I directly caused them. Caught up in my own selfish, self-serving behavior, causing them to feel rejection and hurt. There they are consistently ready to show me that they possess patience and forgiveness beyond my understanding.

While I’m sure they are tired of picking up my broken, drunk, worn out behind off the dirty bathroom floor time and time again, they never let on. They are my safe place. They make me want to do better, be better. Not just for them, but for my children and myself. They don’t judge, ever… Which is something that almost everyone else in my life has done over the last few years. I finally can relax and be me, mistakes and all. But when I do mess up, and I tell them, instead of pushing me away, usually I get pulled in closer. It still surprises me. I want to grow up to be just like them. They have had such an amazing impact on who I am now, and who I am becoming. I want to please them, make them proud… They have done so much for me, that when I say thank you, it feels like trying to fill the Grand Canyon with a marble… It’s just not enough.

So, this is to you, my hero, my example. I love you for who you are and who you’ve become. I love you because you show me that it is possible to move on, to pick up the pieces of my life one more time and put them back together, but this time, instead of trying to glue them back the way they were, try a different perspective and create something even more beautiful than the original. I am who I am because of how you love me and show me how to love others. You make a profound difference in my life. I hope I can inspire someone equally as awesomely as you do me. You encourage me to step outside my comfort zone and explore. You are my biggest (and sometimes only) cheerleader.

I love you mom.

Posted in 2013, Life, Love | 1 Comment

I love you because you told me I would fail…

For some reason mean people are on my mind today. Not just all mean people, but specifically the ones that have, and are in my life (whether I invited them or not).

I was raised with the care and protection equal to a fragile porcelain doll. Which now, having children myself, I completely understand my parents reasons for that. That being said, when I entered the real world, it was a little bit of a bumpy start. There were horrors and wonders I never imagined. One of which, was mean people. I still struggle with not taking every single thing said to me personally. My 18 year old self spent more time than I’m willing to admit crying over some comment a stranger threw at me because I unknowingly cut in line, or otherwise pissed them off. My intentions were always gentle, treat as I wanted to be… never wanting to rock anyone’s boat. Life continued on and I began to learn to either brush it off, or defend myself.

I dealt with insults, rejections and rudeness growing up, but never on the real world scale. This was the first time I realized I was a fighter. Not necessarily physically, but mentally, emotionally… I got better and better at blocking every blow that was thrown at me. Until I met one woman in particular. She was someone I had to deal with on a regular basis. No escape, not even the blessing of anonymity would hide me from her. She knew every mistake, every blemish and imperfection. I had not learned how to react logically, and everything still triggered an emotional response. I cared what she thought of me, of my life, my decisions. I found myself trying (always unsuccessfully) to please her. As time went on, I realized there was nothing I could do to meet her standards. The days I managed to fly under her radar were the best I could hope for. If I did something that attracted her attention, insults, cleverly hidden in “advice” were my reward.

Instead of pleasing her, it became harder and harder to not fear her. All the while, my own self-esteem disappearing before it really had a chance to solidify. My identity was being shaped through her. I began to believe the things she would tell me. I doubted every decision I would make, knowing most likely it would bring some sort of judgement. I was being told I would fail at things I had wanted to do since childhood. I began to do things her way, because it was easier than trying to stand up to her.

Eventually, as I grew older I found the courage to move on with my life. Her words and phone calls still carrying weight far beyond when the ties were cut. I started thinking for myself, my eyes began to open and I figured out who I was. I resented her for a long time. Nothing positive ever accompanied thoughts of her in my mind. Until I woke up one day and realized I wasn’t who she told me I was. I wasn’t failing at the things she had convinced me I would never be good at. I didn’t have to be who she told me I was.

Because of her, for the years after she quit being such a huge part of my life, I worked hard. Really hard. I didn’t know until years later that I fought so hard to survive because I needed to tell her, show her, that I wasn’t the write off she had already categorized me as. Because of her, I have success, family, hope, and a fearlessness that can only come from overcoming one of the greatest fears I have ever faced. So, to you, thank you for putting me down, telling me I would fail never believing in me, and threatening to take my life away. You gave me power, hope and strength.

Posted in 2014, Life | 1 Comment

I love you because you are real…

Bai bai. Cheerful, quick and very distinct. Such a familiar sound, that long ago has been recorded deeply in my subconscious. I’m able to recall in on command, and it immediately triggers a thousand memories. Each and every one a happy thought that gives me warm fuzzies. It’s also a sound I have taken for granted for the last 33 years. Another hero of mine.

Someone that I know I can turn to for help of any kind, for any reason. From fixing a leaky faucet to diaper rash to blunt but truthful relationship advice, solicited or not. Most of the time, the answers to my sometimes simple, sometimes complicated questions are unconventional. Those are my favorites, and the ones I am making sure my children know. Only knowledge that could come from someone who has lived long enough to tell you they have seen and been through it all. I’ve seen the pictures and heard the stories, knowing everything is quite the journey through life. I grew up visiting often, learning more every visit how to be better at whatever I did, because that’s just what they do. I would watch this person with the awe and wonder of how could they do all this. My child mind grew up believing they could do anything, and to this day, I still believe that.

I often would ask, how could they make doing and knowing everything look so easy. I knew that every time I saw them, there was the most comfortable chest and lap to snuggle into. Or the best hug I could hope for. I was rocked to sleep with a song accompanied by a rhythmic pat on the butt. Which is exactly how I put my babies to sleep. Smacking the bottom a little harder than the other mothers do, because it works better, I’ve seen it. They gave me unwavering faith that if I was told to wrap banana peel around a wart to remove it, that it absolutely would do as expected. I learned nothing goes to waste, even those things you’d wished you could just dump in the trash. They know uses for common household objects, that were endless. I will always have Vaseline, baking soda, and WD40 on hand for bee stings, creaky doors, duct tape remains.

Knowing my family began with this strong, funny, super-woman that has given us superior genetic contributions, makes me feel like I have to work hard to live up to family standards. She is my wonder-woman. Always has an answer, not just words, but solutions that solve. I have looked up to her for as long as I can remember. She is my own personal google, knowing just as much and way faster when the electricity is out. I love her endlessly. Her opinions have shaped many decisions that make me who I am. I doubt she knows the extent of the impact she has had on me, and continues to have, or the joy I’ve had in continuing her genetic line. Anxious and excited to proudly show off each of her new great-grandchildren moments after they were born. She has passed along talents that are strong in art, creativity, compassion, and humor. The legacy she has built is solid and deep and will continue for generations. I know I don’t say it as often as I should, and I haven’t been the greatest at making sure our relationship is as close as I want all the time, but I know no matter how much time has passed my grandma is always there for me. Cheering, prodding me on, and making me see overly-complicated things in a clear, simple way. I cherish our relationship and don’t tell you often enough how much you mean to me, or how much I want to make you proud of me. I love you Granny.

Posted in 2014, Love | 1 Comment

I love you because you often take me in the wrong direction….

It begins at an early age, very early. Which stuffed, silent friend is lucky enough to grace the pillow next to my head tonight? If I go downstairs in shorts, will mom let me all to school even though it’s snowing? Which shirt matches these pants and shoes? Which perfume should I wear? What will happen if I say no? What classes should I take? Should I say yes to him? What should we name her? It goes on. Our entire lives are made of choice after choice. Like a road that has a split in it every 5 feet, sometimes every 2. The direction and destination it could go is limitless, based on the choices we make every day. The big ones are usually noticeable and some even have trouble picking one over the other. They are the ones we consider to have the largest impact on our lives. Should I take this job? Should we move here? Should I have a baby? Those usually require some real independent thought. Maybe even some outside perspective, if that’s something you do to assist in your choice. You can usually look back in the big ones and see more clearly if what you chose was your ‘right’ answer or If the other road would have been better. Then there’s the choices that you make that lead you to a road that only has one fork here and there, and even those options are few and far between. How do you turn around and go back to a less restrictive road? Or the times when the road is chosen for you? Or when you feel like you have to choose the nicely paved road because those riding with you couldn’t handle the rough, bumpy, under construction road? What about the little choices, the ones that you make without thinking? The ones that long ago have become second nature, automatic. You choose what you have chosen over and over again because it’s familiar, you know what’s over the hill, or around the corner. When you come to the fork in the road and the big tree at the split has a tire swing on it, you don’t have to think about it, you know you’re going to turn right. When did those choices become so… Automated, brainless, subconscious making choice after choice based on what someone else wanted me to do, or the least resistant path. I’m a mom, so many of those choices have been and will be with my many passengers in mind, but… What if every time I turn right without thinking it’s actually taking me further and further from the destination I have been trying to reach on the left? The destination that I know I want to get to, but still am not sure what it looks like or where the road beyond it leads. What if I make some of those small, insignificant choices differently? It will be unfamiliar, and I’m sure uncomfortable. But as of now, I have made many, many choices that have made things unfamiliar and definitely uncomfortable. What kind of adventure could I go on, if I started choosing the directions based on my own thoughts and feelings? I made a series of choices that have led me to this point. A fork, more than a fork. A split in the road with hundreds or choices, all unknown, equally exciting, equally terrifying. I am who I am because I chose the green shirt instead of the blue, and pigtails instead of a ponytail years ago. Since then I have made a countless number of “harder than they should have been choices” and a few ok ones. I’ve often wondered looking back if I had chosen differently, what would I be like now, who would I be. Would I be faced with the same hundreds of options as I am now? Some of these roads will lead to happiness for the rest of my life. Some, I’m sure, are detours, just like many of the ones behind me have been. Also, what if I only have a certain number of choices left, and when I reach the number, that’s the destination, whether I like it or not? Why is making decisions so stressful? Eenie meenie miney mo is starting to look better and better…

Posted in 2014, Life | Leave a comment

I love you because you made me relax…

2013 was definitely a year of not only struggle and pain, but self discovery. I always seem to notice T-shirts, ads, or internet junk that has “inspirational” quotes about internal strength or surviving some hardship. While most of them come across cheesy, it still makes me smile a little on the inside. I didn’t realize how true a lot of them were until now. I now more than ever believe that the more struggles one goes thru, the more colorful and fantastic the person is. More open-minded and driven. When someone faces something they never thought they would make it thru, whether emotional, physical, or other, there is no greater feeling than looking back and knowing you conquered.

My family and I just got back from a vacation. The first time all of us had gone anywhere other than grandmas house as a family. The first time several of them had flown on a plane. We were blessed to be able to go to a much warmer area on the globe. I am not a big outdoors person, but when there’s a beach and warm sand, I forget that I am probably blinding others with my vampiric skin and put on the only pair of shorts I have. Pretending that I belong with all the other leathery looking people. There is huge comfort in knowing you will never see those people again. Since I’ve been back though, I’ve heard “you’re glowing”, “those pictures of yourself are beautiful, did you do something different with yourself?”.

I thought for awhile that it was just the burn/tan I had acquired. But then I started thinking and really began to look at why I appear to others differently right now. I released last year and all the stress that went with it while we were gone. I began caring a lot less about what others think of me, vacationers or not and more about living in the moment. I didn’t have fun on the trio because of where we got to go or what we were doing. I had fun because I got to focus on just my family and spending time together. Without having to worry about what’s going on with my job. How I take things my life to the next level. What my next chapter looks like. I do know this for sure though, I am still in the preface and only a few short pages to turn before the best chapter of all.

Posted in 2014, Life | Leave a comment