Wearing my Life Journey

I have always struggled with body image.  I have looked in the mirror and loathed the person staring back at me.  I can remember spending hours lying in bed naked, in the middle of winter, next to a wide open window, just hating everything about myself.  Wishing I wasn’t alive.  I would hear men around me use words like “cow” and “doughy” in reference to curvy women.  My weight always made me feel ugly.

As I started my journey of self discovery, I realized, my physical appearance was not what was weighing me down.  It was the weight of worrying about what other people thought, the weight of always trying to make other people happy, the weight of not knowing who I really was, because I would always morph into whoever people wanted me to be.  The weight was literally pushing me down into the ground and burying me alive.  My anxiety was so high, I could barely leave the house.  I would sit in a closet and cry.  I would go outside in a thunderstorm and pray to get struck by lightening.  I am not sure if anyone around me realized just how bad it got.  I prayed every night to not wake up.

Then, my life was turned upside down.  I was no longer someone’s wife.  My kids were growing and it was time to let them fly.  I was forced to get to know myself.  To learn who I was.  It also meant I had to look at the person I loathed the most, in the mirror.  Every day, I took a long hard look at her.  At first, I would look at her and curse and scream and cry.  But I would start finding things, each day, to be proud of.  The little extra chin, that was from eating the popcorn with extra butter when my kids took me to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 with them.  So, that extra chin, it’s a reminder that my kids love me so much.  That extra roll in my back, well, that’s from going out and having a drink with a girlfriend.  I rarely kept up with friends, so getting out, was a big deal for me.  A success. 

I was starting to remember the carefree, silly girl I once was. She was coming out as a strong, kind woman who realized it didn’t matter what people thought her and that she couldn’t possibly please everyone. Loving who I am on the inside, that was the easy part, once I got to meet the real me. Working on what I saw in the mirror, that was the hardest thing. Sometimes, it’s still difficult.

You see, all too often, women are shown that beauty comes in a skinny body. I was not looking to lose my curves so I could love myself. I have known conditional love and I no longer want that in my life. The people I let in my life, myself included, will love me with no conditions. Curvy, thin, healthy, sick, happy, sad…the people that I have kept in my life, love me unconditionally. So I continued to force myself to look at myself in the mirror. “Look at that roll. That’s from all the meals my parents fed me as they supported me during the most difficult times in my life.”

“That belly, yes, it hangs over. A reminder of feeling two of the most amazing people in my life grow inside me.” I will gladly carry that reminder. “The bloated belly, that could be a good reminder of an amazing weekend of overeating, overdrinking, and laughter and love with my tribe.”

“That thigh flab, from a super fun evening with my sister, being silly.”

“Look at the way the skin under my arms moves. Maybe that’s from saying I craved mac and cheese, and coming home to three different kinds made by someone who loves me very much.”

So, whether my weight is up or down, my body is a roadmap to the incredible journey of my life. It’s a reminder of my strength and my resilience. I survived things I really didn’t know I could. So, if find that I am doubting myself, I give myself a gentle reminder that my body is my trophy of all I have survived, of all the love and support I both have and give. And that, is an easy thing to love. My curves are BEAUTIFUL.

Chuck it in the F@$k It Bucket

Learning to let go of things that are not meant to be, is one of the most freeing things someone can do.  I was just catching up on FB and read a post by one of my friends.  Her journey of single life started around the same time mine did.  Our journeys are different, but it still resonated with me.  It was a time of reflection.  Exactly what did I chuck in the f@k it bucket.  What are the challenges I faced?  What have I accomplished?

That list is pretty extensive.  It’s a list I am so proud of.   The last 6 years have been such a test for me.  I had never lived on my own before.  I had never really dealt with “grown up” bills on my own. I was fortunate enough to never have needed to work at more than one job, until I lived on my own. At one time, I worked 3 jobs at a time. I had never been on a plane that went over the ocean. I had never made a long road trip on my own with the kids. And I had never realized it was okay to stop putting everyone else first for fear they wouldn’t like me anymore.  And I never thought I would ever, ever, ever, let anyone into my heart, much less my home and my family again. These are some of my greatest challenges, that have turned into some amazing accomplishments. 

I realized I was living a life of fear.  Fear of failure, fear of dying, fear of not being liked, fear of failing.  I was carrying a huge load on my shoulders. Most of us do.  It was time to lighten that load. 

As with many divorces, I had to move.  I live in a pretty expensive county and rent, on my private non-profit salary would have been unaffordable.  Leaving the area was not an option.  My kids are here.  My parents and my sister are here.  That’s my support.  With a lot of help from my superstar mom, I was able to purchase home.  And let me tell you, I love my home.  It’s the perfect size, in the perfect  location.

Bills. Ooooof. No fun at all. I didn’t know what was in our bank account. I had to open my own, to start separating things. It was scary. Taking over bills was not the scariest part. At first, they were split based off income. But, once the house was sold, all my bills were my responsibility. F@!ck it! Let’s do this. Face it head on.

When the kids were born, I quit my job and stayed home with them. I wanted to do that. It was something my mom did for my sister and I and I wanted, and had the luxury to be able to do it, Don’t get me wrong. When I say luxury, that, by no means, means it was a cake walk. It was hard. One of the hardest things in the world. But I never regreted it.

When my youngest started school full time I decided to volunteer for a local non-profit. I never had a clue it would lead me into a job that would be a huge part of my life and a source of strength, for the next 11 years. I had always thought I wouldn’t be able to go back to work. I never got my master’s degree. I felt like I wasn’t good enough for anything. But this job, was huge for me. When I moved to my new home, I could afford it, but being single and making friends means going out to meet people. That isn’t always cheap. I met someone that helped me get a job at a local distillery. What fun that was. I met so many new people I learned how to mix some delicious drinks. And I had a blast. But, a friend that had worked at the distillery started running the restaurant at a local golf course and needed help. So I became a cart girl at the course. 7 days a week, I worked, Did I mention my first job was sort of 24/7. I would get calls at all hours and took on call shifts on a regular basis. But, for one summer, I said f@!ck it, I need money to have some fun. So I worked 3 jobs, 7 days a week. It wore me down. Finally, despite knowing I was letting a good friend down, I had to say f@!ck it. I can’t do this anymore. I realized I had to focus on myself. I knew finding someone would not make her life easier and I was really frightened she would be upset with me. Not because she is likee that at all, but because that’s my fear. Letting someone down and them not liking me anymore. But guess what. She definitely still likes me and we are still friends and I adore her.

Did I ever mention a huge fear of flying? When I was married, we had an RV and travelled cross country. If I knew I had to get on a plane, I would have anxiety attacks for months. So, post divorce, my daughter’s flute choir planned a trip to tour the Tuscan region of Italy. F@!ck it! I am getting on a damn plane and flying across the ocean…not just with my daughter, but also with my sister. What an amazing trip. I have blogged about it, so I won’t go into details. But the experience I had, just by letting shit go. What’s next with international travel? I have my fingers crossed for some hiking in the mountains of Austria.

When I first got separated, my daughter’s flute choir was traveling to Orlando to play at Universal. We had all been planning to go, but it turned into me going with the kids and one of my son’s best friends. I said f@ck it. We drove to Disney first, then travelled to Universal. That was a trip I never would have thought I could have done by myself. My son and his friend drove a couple of hours, but I did most of the driving and it was so empowering. To do the parks and the drive with the kids was amazing.

Learning to say what I need to say, and not worry about whether it will make someone not like me has been one of my greatest challenges. I had to fall in love with myself to be able to see what kind of person I am and to be able to let go of people, if they couldn’t accept me for who I am. So…f@!ck it. Here I am. If you don’t like it, you can walk away at any time. If you don’t treat me well, I can walk away at any time. In these last several years I have found that I had an amazing foundation of a support system with my family and a few friends. And then I built onto that foundation with some equally amazing friends. I am surrounded with people who love me for who I am. Whe treat me the way I deserve to be treated. I’ll be honest, some of them don’t always say the easy things. I don’t always like what they say. But they always help me grow. They always encourage me to continue on my path of loving myself.

I dated for a while. Hated it. The dating world sucks. I had learned to live on my own and I found that no one was worthy of letting in. One guy mentioned moving in. I said no and he lost it. F@!ck it! That was scary. So long. So, I stopped looking. Then, one day, a random person completely changed my world. Well not at first. Walls were up. I had someone to hang out with. That enjoyed the same things as me. I told my girlfriends, he’s in a box. He was not going to overflow into my life. After a few months, my girls would laugh when I mentioned the box. It was a super flimsy box. But I spent a lot of time protecting myself. Protecting my heart. But the effort he put into us, just floored me. So, guess what…FUCK IT! Welcome to my heart, welcome to my home, welcome to my family.

Chucking my fears in the f@!ck it bucket has completely opened up my world. I still have fear. Sometimes it gets the best of me. But it is no longer the driving force in my life. Living my best life is the driving force now. It doesn’t come without risks. I know that. I don’t expect my life to be perfect. There are going to be some really hard things in life. In fact, there are challenging, scary things now. But I have the strength, the self-love, and the support to know that I can get through anything life throws at me,

Coming Out the Other Side…

It’s been a very long time since I have been able to convince myself to write. The last several months have been an uphill battle for me. I’ve spent many days on my couch and many nights crying. I have woken up with my eyes practically swollen shut. It’s hard to write while you are in the midst of an internal storm. It has been really hard for me to find the joy in life. With help from amazing people in my life that have really put up with a lot from me, I’m finding my way out of the dark.

It started when I found out my kids wouldn’t be home for Thanksgiving. I had invited them for dinner, as I knew we wouldn’t have the normal family gathering and I would be alone. They informed me they would be staying in State College. That started a downward spiral for me. Feelings of loneliness. Feelings of being a waste of space. During these times, our worlds have all changed. When the lockdown first started I was doing video chats with friends and family. But then, I started realizing that seeing everyone through video just made me miss them more. I miss the face to face contact. I miss the hugs, the touches. I almost felt lonelier.

I started pulling away from everyone. I started to feel hurt and angry. And then people would tell me, you’re not the only one going through this. Believe me. I know I’m not. But that doesn’t make me feel better that other people are also struggling. We are all in this ocean, but we are all in different boats. Some days, my life raft is on a sunny ocean with a nice breeze, while someone else may be in the middle of a massive storm. Or vice versa. We are all going through it. But make no mistake, our boats are different. I don’t think mine is worse than someone else’s, but I am not about comparing. That does no good.

As Thanksgiving got closer, my mood got worse and worse. The anticipation of spending a day alone, when it’s always been a huge day of family football and food, was unbearable. But, the night before Thanksgiving, I found joy in one of the most unexpected places. I got a call from my kids’ stepmother. She and my ex-husband invited me over for Thanksgiving. I think one of my kids told them I would be alone. I declined and decided, with the weather being decent, I would go to my parent’s for dinner and eat with them outside. But, on Thanksgiving morning I got a call reminding about the invitation with my ex and his wife. When she called, she said her daughter was so excited to see Fifi’s mom and picked out a special outfit for me. How could I resist. So, I decided to go up there before dinner and hang out with them for a few hours.

When I walked into their house, I can’t tell you how amazing it was to get this huge hug, holding nothing back, from a 6 year old. I didn’t want to let go. It was amazing!!!! And hugs from the rest of the family were great too. I have been missing that physical touch so much. You don’t realize how much you need it until you don’t have it anymore.

Thanksgiving ended up being way better than I anticipated. I could feel myself doing better. But not all the way there. I knew I still had Christmas and New Years alone. But Christmas Day is normally a day alone. The anticipation wasn’t near as bad as Thanksgiving. But the days themselves were pretty hard. A couple weeks prior to Christmas, we had a huge loss in our family when we had to say goodbye to our family dog, Spyder. I felt angry that I couldn’t be with friends or family. I wasn’t really angry at them, but at the situation. I have been a bear to deal with, and I know it. And I am sorry for that. But, I have also found some joy during this season that has been unexpected. After Thanksgiving, I have spent more time with my ex-husband and his wife. We got through the loss of our family dog together. We spent a day decorating cookies when my daughter got home from school. It’s been a blessing.

I have had a wonderful time visiting with my kids. Oh how I had missed them. It had been way too long since I had seen them. My daughter caught me in a bad moment of tears. She was amazing. She helped me to realize I had lots of tools to get through these times, but I had to readjust how I used my tools and find soe new ones that work through social distancing. So, I am committing to journaling and exercising and taking care of myself more. While feeling better won’t happen completely over night, at least I can be more in control of how I respond to my emotions.

What I have learned from the last couple of months is that I won’t feel bad for having all the feels. I know others are struggling to. It’s not a competition for who has it worse. Let’s just all acknowledge how difficult this is for all of us and try to wrok together. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to feel alone. It’s okay to realize your emotional toolbox needs to be adjusted becauses not all your tools may work anymore.

Coming Out the Other Side…

It’s been a very long time since I have been able to convince myself to write. The last several months have been an uphill battle for me. I’ve spent many days on my couch and many nights crying. I have woken up with my eyes practically swollen shut. It’s hard to write while you are in the midst of an internal storm. It has been really hard for me to find the joy in life. With help from amazing people in my life that have really put up with a lot from me, I’m finding my way out of the dark.

It started when I found out my kids wouldn’t be home for Thanksgiving. I had invited them for dinner, as I knew we wouldn’t have the normal family gathering and I would be alone. They informed me they would be staying in State College. That started a downward spiral for me. Feelings of loneliness. Feelings of being a waste of space. During these times, our worlds have all changed. When the lockdown first started I was doing video chats with friends and family. But then, I started realizing that seeing everyone through video just made me miss them more. I miss the face to face contact. I miss the hugs, the touches. I almost felt lonelier.

I started pulling away from everyone. I started to feel hurt and angry. And then people would tell me, you’re not the only one going through this. Believe me. I know I’m not. But that doesn’t make me feel better that other people are also struggling. We are all in this ocean, but we are all in different boats. Some days, my life raft is on a sunny ocean with a nice breeze, while someone else may be in the middle of a massive storm. Or vice versa. We are all going through it. But make no mistake, our boats are different. I don’t think mine is worse than someone else’s, but I am not about comparing. That does no good.

As Thanksgiving got closer, my mood got worse and worse. The anticipation of spending a day alone, when it’s always been a huge day of family football and food, was unbearable. But, the night before Thanksgiving, I found joy in one of the most unexpected places. I got a call from my kids’ stepmother. She and my ex-husband invited me over for Thanksgiving. I think one of my kids told them I would be alone. I declined and decided, with the weather being decent, I would go to my parent’s for dinner and eat with them outside. But, on Thanksgiving morning I got a call reminding about the invitation with my ex and his wife. When she called, she said her daughter was so excited to see Fifi’s mom and picked out a special outfit for me. How could I resist. So, I decided to go up there before dinner and hang out with them for a few hours.

When I walked into their house, I can’t tell you how amazing it was to get this huge hug, holding nothing back, from a 6 year old. I didn’t want to let go. It was amazing!!!! And hugs from the rest of the family were great too. I have been missing that physical touch so much. You don’t realize how much you need it until you don’t have it anymore.

Thanksgiving ended up being way better than I anticipated. I could feel myself doing better. But not all the way there. I knew I still had Christmas and New Years alone. But Christmas Day is normally a day alone. The anticipation wasn’t near as bad as Thanksgiving. But the days themselves were pretty hard. A couple weeks prior to Christmas, we had a huge loss in our family when we had to say goodbye to our family dog, Spyder. I felt angry that I couldn’t be with friends or family. I wasn’t really angry at them, but at the situation. I have been a bear to deal with, and I know it. And I am sorry for that. But, I have also found some joy during this season that has been unexpected. After Thanksgiving, I have spent more time with my ex-husband and his wife. We got through the loss of our family dog together. We spent a day decorating cookies when my daughter got home from school. It’s been a blessing.

I have had a wonderful time visiting with my kids. Oh how I had missed them. It had been way too long since I had seen them. My daughter caught me in a bad moment of tears. She was amazing. She helped me to realize I had lots of tools to get through these times, but I had to readjust how I used my tools and find soe new ones that work through social distancing. So, I am committing to journaling and exercising and taking care of myself more. While feeling better won’t happen completely over night, at least I can be more in control of how I respond to my emotions.

What I have learned from the last couple of months is that I won’t feel bad for having all the feels. I know others are struggling to. It’s not a competition for who has it worse. Let’s just all acknowledge how difficult this is for all of us and try to wrok together. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to feel alone. It’s okay to realize your emotional toolbox needs to be adjusted becauses not all your tools may work anymore.

Fake It, Fake It, Fake It…(Screw it, I suck at faking it)

My kids told me once that they hated it when I said “fake it ’til you make it.” My thought was, pretend I am strong and eventually I will be. Don’t tell a soul what I am going through. Sweep it all under the rug and it will evaporate or dissolve. The truth is, sadness is not water, nor is it sugar. It won’t evaporate nor dissolve. I also learned that hiding my sadness created tension in relationships and increased my anxiety. My behavior would become passive aggressive and I found myself alone and just expecting people close to me to recognize something was wrong. I found myself alone and anxious.

To say that I have solved all those problems would be a complete lie. It would also be a lie to say that I don’t struggle with falling back into those patterns. It’s a constant internal battle. I find it so much easier, at the time, to say something passive aggressively, then to say the hard things, like why am I struggling. My thought process is that if I am putting it out there, I am being a drama queen or I am being needy. I never want to bring people around me down.

Basically, what I am trying to say is that my pride gets in the way. I want people to see me as strong and not as needy. It’s taken me a long time to learn the practice of humility. To come off my high horse and say, “I am struggling today. I might need some help getting through this. I might need a shoulder to cry on. I might need you to just hold space for me and hear my sadness.” So, give me a moment as dismount my horse named Pride…

It’s been a little over a week that I have been struggling. It’s no surprise, as the holiday season can be difficult for many. I have had my Christmas tree up since before Thanksgiving. There is not a single ornament up, nor are there any other decorations up in my house. I have some presents, but really no inventory of what I have nor what I need still. I have been working my day job and I have been working my Saturday job in the evenings, during the week. Between all the extra hours and the stress, my body hurts. And it’s not the good kind of hurt, like the day after a workout or after a good “playdate” with my guy. I feel as though I was run over. My legs are throbbing and my shoulders feel so tight it hurts to move. I cry at the drop of a hat and I feel like the Grinch. This will pass and I know it will. On December 24, when my family celebrates Christmas, I will feel my body sink into a chair and relax. All the stress and anxiety will leave my body. But that’s not for another 9 days. Let’s be honest. In sadness time, that is eons. Nine days of fighting my pride. Nine days of saying, “I am struggling.”

What do I need during this time? Not much. There are times of sadness that we find we need to be carried through. This isn’t one of those times for me. I just need some open space to say what I am feeling. No advice, just safe space. If I tell you, “I’m fine.” call me out on it. That shouldn’t be confused with, “I will be fine.” I am very aware that what this is is temporary. A little extra hug, but if you see a tear, ignore it. Maybe some humor. Laughter is the best medicine. Just an extra message saying hey. My texts tend to get shorter, maybe a little colder, less fun emojis. I am not mad, I am not pulling away. But I am fighting dumping everything on the people around me. Ruminating on the feelings does no good, only perpetuates them.

I am so strong and have come through so much. But I still have a ways to go. We are all works in progress. I find that I write so much about strength and happiness. I don’t want to be a hypocrite and pretend my life is all that. I have tough seasons too. We all do. We can accept those seasons and learn how to run through them. And I don’t mean take a leisurely jog. Run through those bad mother fucking times like a defensive lineman runs through the O Line to get to the quarterback. Plow through that sadness. Straight through it. Own it. Feel it. Use the help of the rest of your line and break through. Sack that sadness and do that victory dance with your teammates. If that was only the first down, get back on that line and do it again. Look next to you. You are not alone on that line. It’s a team effort. Don’t let your pride forget you have a team. Be humble. Let them carry you when you need them. Or, let them just make the space for you. Whatever you need, use your team.

Don’t fake it. Own it. Say, “This shit is hard today!” My kids were onto something when they said they hated the saying. I am learning the power of owning my emotions and expressig what I need.

Meet the Real Me

Yes, my story is real, and the strength I have gained from my experiences in life is very real. But, my story…my trauma, my anxiety…they don’t define me. I DON’T HAVE anxiety, I live my life despite it. I am NOT a victim, I have survived through trauma. There is a huge difference, and for a long time, I let both define me. What I learned is that you get stuck in those definitions and it becomes who you are. It was incredibly freeing when I learned that I didn’t have to be defined by these labels.

Growing up I was a bit of a trouble maker. Just ask my parents or my sister, especially my dad. Boy did I know how to push his buttons. I was a happy kid. I had friends in the neighborhood. We were usually bouncing from playground to playground. I loved spinning on the tire swing, at the playground behind our house, and looking up at the sky as we spun really fast. And the regular swings. Remember trying to swing so high you went all the way around the top bar? We tried, but never succeeded. I used to ride my bike down big hills with my hands to the side, feeling the wind rip through my hair. And I would steal kitchen spoons so I could dig to China in the backyard. I never quite made it. I would have always preferred bare feet to my tennis shoes. But my parents always caught me. And dancing, oh how I loved to dance. I enjoyed the feel of the bass as it ran through my body.

My sister and I would build blanket forts. They were always amazing. We would build forts with separate rooms in them. We used so many blankets. But the minute my sister made me mad, I would yank that fort down. When we went to the local elementary school to play tennis, I would pound my racket on the ground if I wasn’t winning. In elementary school, my friends and I would walk to school. But we usually walked the way our parents told us not to. In school, there were many times I was removed from the classroom because I was causing trouble.

On the weekends, my friends and I would watch scary movies. My hands would be in front of my face and I would be plugging my ears at the same time. But we loved scary movies. I was me and I never apologized for that. I always wanted to be outside and, in the summers, I would stay out as late as I could, until my mom put the front lights on. I was a free spirit. It had a way of getting me in trouble. I didn’t like rules. But, when I look back, I really like who I was.

I let my fear of what others thought of me get in the way for a very long time. I let my anxiety define me. I let myself play the role of the victim and expected others to nurture me and take care of me. I thought that was who I was. I let my experiences define me. I stopped watching horror films because they increased my anxiety. I stopped trying to dig to China and I stopped trying to make that swing flip over the bar. And…I stopped dancing. Oh how I missed dancing.

When I started living on my own, I realized, who the hell cares what others think of me. I liked the kid I was growing up. Maybe not everything was perfect about her, but she was actually pretty awesome, and she was a force to be reckoned with. I started taking yoga. While I was no longer trying to flip that swing over the bar, I was doing some incredible poses that I thought I would be way too old to do. And, I got to be barefoot while doing it. Growing up, I knew exactly how to push people’s buttons. I believe some of that was because I could read people pretty well. I do not try to push buttons anymore. Instead, I use my ability to read people to support them and put a smile on their faces. I don’t try to dig to China, but I feel very excited about my new love for travel and hope I get to take a ton of trips. I enjoy watching scary movies again (just not by myself). And dancing…I love to dance again. I go out and dance, I stay home and dance, I cook dinner and I dance. I am the person that I am and I make absolutely no apologies. If I offend someone, it’s okay. They don’t have to like me. But I won’t apologize.

This is the real me. Not my trauma, not my anxiety. I returned to the person I used to be, only, more grown up. I like who I am now. I am more than happy to share my story with others, but I realized it was important for you all to know who I really am. I do understand that a lot of my strength comes from my experiences and I don’t discount them. I live with anxiety and I am a survivor, but really, I am so much more than that.

Fall…My Favorite Time of Year…But…

Fall is my absolute favorite time of year! I love the colors, the crisp air, the crunch of the leaves when you walk on them. And don’t even get me started on pumpkin spice and apple cider.

But…I have a secret to tell…this is when I find I struggle. I am still strong. I still put a smile on my face and now I will make it through the season. But, boy do I struggle. I haven’t seen my kids in almost 2 months, it gets dark earlier, when I wake up in the morning it’s still dark, the holidays are coming up (which I tend to dread), and I really don’t enjoy my birthday much.

I have missed my kids like crazy. Talking and texting with them a couple of times a week is not near enough. And as my time with them coming home for breaks gets shorter and shorter, I just want to hang on for dear life and enjoy the moments I have with them. Being a parent, and letting them grow up is one of the hardest things I have had to do. I try to give them space, but, at the same time, I want to make sure they know I am always there if they need me. I do hope they know that.

When I was younger, my anxiety used to get so much worse when daylight savings ended. The sky looked so ominous, and I felt like the world was coming to an end. I don’t feel that way anymore. But the feelings I used to get have really stuck with me, and it’s easy to get caught up in those memories. They consumed my life for so many years and I do believe that, while I don’t have that anxiety anymore, I still anticipate it. The sunshine always seems to make everything better.

Holidays, well, we’ve all heard that holidays tend to be the toughest time of year for some people. I am no exception. It’s a time for family and love. Don’t get me wrong. I have an absolutely amazing family and so much love in my life. But it’s so hard to be with intact family units by myself. I feel pretty alone, and no matter how much I anticipate those feelings, it’s still tough.

And my birthday, well, I have not enjoyed it for a long time. My family does everything to try to make it special. No matter how much I tell myself that I know they are not trying to make it special out of pity, it always feels like my own personal pity party. My kids aren’t home to celebrate. I get a happy birthday text and a quick phone call. My co-workers recently told me I am supposed to take my birthday off and celebrate. It just struck me, what am I celebrating? Years of feeling like I wasn’t important enough to celebrate? Honestly, every year I say I am going to celebrate me. And every year, as it gets closer, I start to feel that dread and insecurity, and just decide to try to spend the day acting like it’s not even a thing.

The thing is, I think most people have a time of year they dread. Whether it’s a birthday, the holidays, another type of date, or a whole fucking season…it’s okay. Take the time to really acknowledge your feelings. I tend to invest in extra tissues and take some extra time for myself. The most important thing, during these times, is to know it isn’t forever. You see, once I get through all the dread, I start getting excited for the first good snowfall. The brightness of the snow. Watching the dog leap through it like a kangaroo. And even shoveling snow. The darkness is not here to stay and I know that. I will continue to walk through life with a smile on my face and maybe a few extra tissues (I don’t recommend tissues with Vick’s for tears), because I know the light will return and I will feel so much better. If I hide under the covers, because I am afraid of the dark, how will I know when the sun is shining.

What’s Your Story…An Update

Early September I shared my story of trauma and anxiety, strength and empowerment. I shared my story with the hopes that I can reach out to others. I can’t lie. It’s therapeutic for me too. Blogging has made me look deep inside myself to really figure out me. It’s a work in progress, but we are all evolving. The goal is to be happy with where you are headed.

I was totally unprepared for the healing that I had no idea I still needed. Not that I thought I was completely healed. I thought it was a part of me I would carry. It would always be there but not take over my life. I have been in a great place for quite some time now. So imagine my surprise when I got a message from a friend that I have not talked to in over 30 years. She lived right down the block from me when we were growing up. After I posted my blog, I went to dinner with my parents. As I’m having dinner I get a very long facebook message from my friend apologizing to me. She has a memory of me sharing with her about the abuse. At 6, she didn’t know how to process that information and never said anything to anyone.

I cannot explain the waves of emotions that followed. There was always the smallest piece of me that wondered if what had happened was a nightmare. I think that was because I was asked if I was sure it wasn’t a dream. I was positive, but there was a seed of doubt planted in my brain. Maybe the question was asked because my disclosure was years after the trauma. Either way, the question has always left me with the smallest sliver of doubt. So, when my friend reached out to me, it was like putting the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle. I didn’t realize how much that doubt weighed on me. But reading those words…”you and I”…”in your parents’ basement”…”and you talking about it.” Any doubt I had was completely erased. It had happened. I had told someone. I remembered that, but again, was that maybe a dream? Everything I was certain to be true was completely validated.

I got home from dinner and I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried. Not one part of me was sad. Those tears, they were cleansing tears. The tears from a ton of weight being lifted off my shoulders. I should never have doubted myself. So, while my friend is apologizing for not understanding my plea, words cannot describe the healing she gave to me earlier this month. How has my life changed in the last month? Well, there were times that my mind would take me back to those moments at 7 years old. That little voice in my head would start to whisper, “was it real?” I struggled to get past that. To trust my memories. I can honestly say, since she and I messaged, I have not revisited those moments again. I don’t look back and wonder if I said or did something wrong. So, while I will never forget what happened, I do not need to look back anymore and question. My past experiences helped create who I am today, but they do not define me.

So, I set out to share my story to reach others and make a difference. To my friend who reached out, Thank You!!!!! I will never be able to put into words what you gave to me by reaching out. I believe you were not meant to do anything with my disclosure when you were 6. It was always now. You were meant to tuck it away for that moment, earlier this month. That was when I needed it. Thank you for turning me straight ahead on my path so I can move forward and stop backtracking periodically.

New Friends,Old Friends, Girl Friends, Boy Friends

I have learned that being in love doesn’t necessarily make us stronger, or even happier, but having love does. I don’t mean the kind you have from a significant other. I am talking about the love you have from true friendships. The kind that last a lifetime. The kind of friends that include family or feel like family. I didn’t realize I had some of these friends until a few years ago. Friends I grew up with that I still connect with. Friends I may not see or talk to every day, for whom I would drop everything for if they were in need. And they would do the same for me.

I recently had dinner with one of my best friends we have been together since she was born, three days after me. we see each other two or three times a year. and, get this, we live three or four miles away from each other. The truth is, life can get in the way. At dinner, she aplogized for being out of touch. My first thought was, “no need to apologize because I am just as guilty.” We are at different places in life. She is married and has kids at home. I am single and live alone. But that does not make me value our friendship any less. We do less things together, but the love has not changed. And when asked about my best friends growing up, her name always comes up. And my response following that is, “and she is till one of my very best friends.” She is one of those friends that when we get together, we pick right up where we left off. I have a few friends like that, whom I can pick right up with.

I just went camping with another of those friends. We went camping together last weekend. Not glamping, not with an air matress or portable gourmet kitchen. But good old fashioned camping. Sleeping on the ground, cooking on the fire, peeing in the woods and no shower. Yeah, didn’t shower for a day and a half. We played games by the fire, we saw a bear near the campsite, and we fought off yellow jackets. But the weekend was fun anyway. Well, except that I shared my sleeping bag with my 68 pound dog. I think I need to invest in a double sleeping bag so I can share with Marshall. It was amazing to spend the weekend with a friend that I talk to on almost a daily basis, but hardly get to see. We talked about our kids and life. He is one of those friends I have known since high school, but didn’t realize how important he would be in my life until a few years ago. We have seen each other through some tough break ups, tough times raising kids, and exciting times raising kids. We have cried a lot together. I am so grateful that we were able to really reconnect and grow such an amazing friendship.

I have written about my tribe before, but I have been truly blessed to have them in my life. These women came into my life in the last year or two and it’s as if they were always there. When FaceBook pops up and says, “It’s your Friendiversary” I am surprised when it says 1 year, or 2 years. How is that possible? I can’t picture my life withouth these women. There are very few days when we don’t talk. These are the women I turn to when something happens with dating, being a divorced mom or dealing with an ex. I turn to them for so much more, however, they are the ones that completely understand the trials and tribulations of being divorced and single again. We straighten each others’ crowns and speak the truth, even if it hurts sometimes. We do game nights and girls’ weekends. An impromptu text to have a quick lunch during the work day. People always say that the challenges in life are not a sprint, they are like running a marathon. You have to go slow and steady to maintain strength for the full run. These women, they help me sustain my strength. They give me strength. I hope I return that for them. When one of us needs strength, those of us that have it, give it willingly.

I cannot write about friends and people that give you strength without writing about my family. There is absolutely no way I would have gotten through all the things in my life without family. I am, without a doubt, loved beyond belief. I may not always deserve it, I may take it for granted, but I know it’s there and I do know just how blessed I am. My parents have helped me through a divorce, buying a new home, totalling a car, getting a new job, helping me with my dogs and thousands of little things around the house that add up to tons and tons of love. And let’s not forget two surgeries. My mom slept on a little chair after my last surgery so I wasn’t home alone. She helped me shower and had to help me take care of my incisions. Not a pretty job at all. While I may not always show how appreciative I am, I do know exactly how much they do for me and there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thankful for them and that I don’t think about how much I love them. And my sister…She has no clue how strong she is. She has been this incredible rock for her family. At the same time as she was being so strong for her family at home, she was helping me through a divorce. She would come to my house late at night and soothe me as I cried myself to sleep. She and I have gone through very different challenges in our lives. I don’t pretend to understand what she has gone through. But I have seen how she has handled it. The grace with which she has handled it all. She has not been through the same challenges as me. But what she offers me is a listening ear. Not suggestions, not a knowledge of what I feel, but someone who accepts me for my challenges and supports me and just hears me. She is too humble to even see the impact she has had on so many lives. Girl, I know you’re reading this. The strength I have found, the strength your family has, it’s you.

I can’t talk about family without talking about my kiddos. So here’s the thing, when I realized divorce was the only option, I knew I wasn’t the only one that would go through it. My kids were going to have to go through it too. Their challenges were going to be very different from mine. I also knew I wouldn’t understand what they were going through. My parents are still together. What I did know, was that they were not going to be burdened with the challenges I faced from the divorce. I was not going to burden them with having to take sides. They should be able to love both me and their dad equally, without having to feel guilty or like they are hurting us. I never wanted them to feel as though they would need to be my rock through this difficult time. I needed to be their mom and love them and get them through their challenges. The kids didn’t talk much about the divorce. I didn’t force it and I tried to always make it clear that I was there for them no matter what. It took me a long time to really be able to look at my relationship with them and appreciate what I have. You see, teenagers are tough. Whether they are part of an intact family, a blended family, or with single parents, they present challenges because they are going through their own challenges, that they are not quite mature enough to handle all the time. I had to learn to not take everything personally. Now, I can gain strength from them too, and they don’t even realize it. When I get a first day of classes picture it melts my heart that they thought of me. When I get a surprise that one of them is home and wants to spend time with me. When they ask me to come to a college game to get that experience, I feel like a million bucks. The phone calls and text exchanges I have with my kids are becoming something I look forward to. I used to walk on eggshells being afraid to say the wrong thing. Now, I can let most things roll right off and not take it personally. I will say, my kids expressed to me a little over a year ago, that they wished I had opened up more to them about the divorce. I don’t know if it is because there dad was very open with them about his feelings, that they needed my “side” to balance it out so they didn’t feel pulled in one direction. I have stood by my choice to not share that with them. That is their dad. I will not say bad things about him to make me feel better. They are welcome to vent to me about him just as they should be able to vent to him about me. However, I will not join in and perpetuate the frustration for my personal gain. It doesn’t help them. I will support them and protect them and be their strength, but I will not talk bad about him to them. In sticking with my morals, I have found such a happiness, and the kids seem truly happy for me. And when I see them enjoying school, I am thrilled for them. Seeing them happy brings me so much joy.

This, this is what I have been craving my entire life. To have such amazing friendships. Everyone is so completely important to me and I am truly blessed to have them all in my life. I can only hope that I bring them even half the joy and strength that they give me. Because of them, I can live my life free from anxiety, free from fear of being hurt by an intimate relationship, without putting up walls. I can be my true self with anyone and I don’t have to give a flying fuck if someone doesn’t like it. I’m surrounded by people who love me and do like me, so others are free to walk away. People may come into my life that make me very happy. And I will not put up walls and I will let them into my life. And I can go into that without fear of getting hurt. Because I know if that happens, I’m surrounded by love, and my entire tribe will pick me up and I will be okay. Having friends is powerful. Probably one of the most powerful super powers. You don’t have to have a lot of friends. You just need to have the ones that will let you be unapologetically you.

What’s Your Story

I have been taking this amazing class for the last three weeks. It ended last week. That left me feeling a little empty. I felt connected with the class and was so grateful for all I learned. It was a class to become certified as a Peer Recovery Specialist. According to Tennessee’s Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services website, https://www.tn.gov/behavioral-health/mental-health-services/cprs/peer-recovery-services/certified-peer-recovery-specialist-program.html, the definition is as follows: a person who has lived experience of a mental illness, substance use disorder or co-occurring disorder, who has made the journey from illness to wellness, and who now wishes to help others. Being a trauma survivor and surviving years of anxiety gives me lived experiences to work with others who feel as though I can relate to their struggles.

Throughout the class, we would occassionally share bits and pieces of our stories. Each person in the class brought such unique gifts. I believe we were a pretty special class. On the second to last day, we all took turns sharing our story from beginning to end. We did not sit around and mope about the struggles in our lives. We each told a story of suffering that led to amazing hope and transformation. We briefly spoke of our bad experiences, but turned it around to show how we all became survivors of what life handed to us. While it was an emotionally draining day, I was so encourged by how resilient people are. And one thing that seemed to be universal, was that when the skeletons are let out of the closet, healing can begin. I have released my skeletons, but not for the whole world. So, here goes.

As a survivor of childhood sexual trauma, my control was taken from me at an early age. As I got older, anxiety set in. I was afraid of things beyond my control. I was up all night with an upset stomach and was distracted in class. There were so many times I felt like I was floating towards the ceiling and watching everything around me. At the time, my toolbox of coping skills was empty. I didn’t know grounding tools to help with the dissociation. I was stuck. Not sleeping led to depression. I either could barely eat or I couldn’t stop eating. I hated my body, I hated that I couldn’t concentrate in class, I hated that I felt isolated from friends because of my anxiety, and mostly, I hated myself.

My anxiety lasted from my third year in college (1993) until May, 2015. What changed? While I had talked a little about my childhood trauma, it still felt like a skeleton. The day I became single, was the day I found the strength to let my voice ROAR. Silence, no more. For me, staying silent meant staying a victim. That day, I did the Linda Carter spin and Wonder Woman was born. I took care of myself. I built a support network that was amazing and didn’t judge me. When I felt myself getting down, I used the tools my therapist gave me to get through. Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t an easy road. I fell down a lot. It took another year and a half to start recovering from the depression and really thinking I am worthy of amazing things. I love what I see in the mirror each day. Some days I would like a little fewer rolls, or maybe a little extra time to get myself organized, but all in all, I look in the mirror and I am that little girl that used to run around in those awesome Wonder Woman underoos with so much confidence. I was always her. I just forgot.

Recently, I had someone ask why the hell I would have gotten such a big tattoo for my first one. It’s a reminder to never forget that confident little Wonder Girl who would grow up to be a powerful Wonder Woman and would change the world of some people for the better.

My road to recovery is unique. Just as anyone else’s journey is unique. My experiences will be different than yours. But we can all find ways to relate to one another. I would love to encourage anyone who would like to share their stories to please do so. I would love to hear the amazing things you have to offer. To hear about your amazing strength. And if you aren’t ready to share your story, know that there is nothing wrong with that. Again, this is your own journey. When you’re ready, your path will be paved for you.

“The strength of my soul was born on the backs of moments that brought me to my knees.” S. L. Heaton