Archive for the ‘hope’ Category

his world

I posted a meme recently that seemed to ruffle some feathers.   It is interesting how one person can see something as beautiful and yet another sees it as sad.  There is nothing wrong with different perspectives.  Everyone is entitled to their own.  And depending on life experiences, age and time frames, the perspectives can vary to a large degree.

I am attaching the meme I speak of.  When I posted it, I didn’t add a message as to my point of view.  I honestly didn’t think it was necessary.  That was rather presumptuous of me and wrong.  I am not sure of the other opinions involved.  It seems that some think of the meme as sad.  Perhaps they view it as a man offering a woman everything and her saying no thank, because she already has everything that he offers.  I’m not really sure.

But when I read this meme, it spoke to my heart.  It was one of the most beautiful things I had seen in a while.  To me, it was a man offering a woman his world.  He was offering her everything he had.  She lovingly let him know he didn’t need to do that.  She already had those things, plus some things that were different than his world.  She took a weight off his shoulders and let him know she doesn’t mind visiting his world, but she needed to live in her own.  That also meant she didn’t expect him to live in her world, but just to visit it and continue living in his own.

A partnership.  A mutual respect.  And no enormous expectations.

I have always enmeshed myself into the world of whatever man offered me his own.  I would adapt and learn to fit into whatever world that might be.  In the end, I would lose myself and become sad.  And more often than not, the one who offered me his world would suddenly feel I owed him for what he gave me.  He would see it as a lack of respect if I complained of missing my own.  It would become leverage in heated situations.

Nothing good came from that for me.  There ended up being resentment, frustration, sadness, loneliness, anger and strife just to mention a few.

So when I saw this meme, I saw a situation where it was acceptable for her to say that she had her own world.  I saw a mutual respect and a situation where he could sigh a breath of relief.  He offered her everything he had, but saw that he didn’t need to do that.  All he needed to do was to be himself.  Be willing to visit her world from time to time and enjoy her presence in his world from time to time.  They could be together in a new place that they created.  Something different than his world and her world.  Something they built as a team, as a couple, and as friends.

I love this meme.  I love what it says to me.  I see a beautiful future one day, very different than any past I have known.

Feel free to leave a message and tell what the meme says to you.  There are no wrong answers.  Only varying perspectives and all will be respected.

Thank you for reading.  X

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I have always loved my birthday.  I don’t have any family members that share my special day.  It just meant so much to me that people were excited about the day I entered this world.

But now it is a very different reason.  You see, on December 22nd, 2015, I attempted suicide by swallowing a bunch of pills.  The police came and took me to a psych ward for observation.  After spending a bit of time there, I sought help with a therapist.  And now I no longer have those dark thoughts.  I have hopeful thoughts.  Positive thoughts.  And I am eternally grateful that I failed to end my life when I tried.  Grateful that I am here. Grateful for every single birthday I am blessed with, purely because I love being alive.

It’s why I take pictures of everything that I find fascinating or funny or beautiful and share them on social media.  I want to share my appreciation for life with the world.  I love listening to the train as it passes by in the night.  I love beautiful cloudy days and gorgeous sunny ones.  I love the smell of the rain and the sound it makes outside the window or on my umbrella.  I love the feel of the warm rain on my skin.  I love witty people that laugh at their own jokes even harder than the rest of us.  I love to hear people laugh.  I love the sound of dozens of voices talking when I enter a crowded place, especially places where there are family functions going on.  I love hugs.  I love kindness.  I love the roar of the ocean waves meeting the rocks and sand.  I love sunsets and sunrises. I love that first sip of coffee with my favorite creamer, in the morning.  I love the comfort of my bed at the end of a long day.  I love to dance to music, in the kitchen, when preparing food or doing dishes.  I love the hum of the fan when I fall asleep in the dark.  I love my fuzzy Star Wars pajama pants and oversized Harley Davidson sweatshirt.  I love going barefoot.  I love having hope that things will turn out okay.  I love having faith that God is in control.  I love when I see his signs so clearly leaving no room for doubt.  I love peace.  I love solitude.  I love going to the movies and out for dinner.  I love doing things on my own, feeling independent.  I also love having help from people who never make me feel indebted to them.  I love helping others.  I love doing speaking engagements.  I love impacting others lives in a positive way.  I love the castle ruins in Ireland, the sunsets at Santa Monica beach, the history in Delaware, the skies over Texas and all the people I have been blessed to meet in-between. And I love writing.  Telling the stories I watch in my mind as movies.  I love sharing those stories with others.  The love of my family and friends.  The ones who have been here for me in the darkest of times.  I love cuddles from my little dog.  And more than anything, I love my children.  To realize all the years of their hugs, hearing their laughter, being there for them through tears…that were almost gone. It makes me love life all the more.

I am here.  I am alive.  I have learned to love myself.  I have purpose.  And I am loved.

This is why my birthday is so very important to me.  Yes, every day is important to me, but I wasn’t born every day.  I was born March 15th.  That is my day to celebrate me and the life I have been blessed with.

Thank you for reading.  X

Heart of Stone

Posted: February 23, 2017 in adventure, aging, hope, love, Uncategorized

I will be 48 years old next month.  That is nearly half a century.  How do I feel about this?  I feel good about it.  My health is pretty good.  I have already lost half of the weight I gained due to extremely high stress levels over the last three years.  And I am in a very good place both physically and mentally.  That doesn’t mean I want to stay this way forever.  Each point in my life is temporary and I know that.  It’s a good thing.  I think about all the things I have experienced in my 48 years.  Some good, some bad and many unforgettable.

I remember getting my first apartment with my best friend, three weeks after graduating high school.  We were poor but it was an incredible time.  We had a cardboard box ,as a table, where we ate our 39 cent pasta that came with the powder and water faux spaghetti sauce on it.  No TV, no phone, no internet, no computer.  It was an awesome time.  From there, I got my own place. Nearly starved, but it was mine.

Every little girl dreams of her wedding day.  Or most of them do, so I am told.  I was one of them that did.  I had a wedding.  It wasn’t quite like I had planned in my dreams, but it was fitting for me and the way I am.  I find humor in most anything.  The preacher showed up in polyester blue pants, white coat, white belt and white shoes, wearing a pink tie.  He caught us off guard when he said(in his thick Texas accent)during the ceremony, “Now, back in the olden days, they would put the ring through the girls nose and the husband would lead her around by a stick with a hook in it.  But nowadays, we just put it on her finger.”  It was so hard not laugh.  Oh.my.goodness.

From there, I had my daughter and my son.  I was blessed to feel and watch life grow within my belly.  They would say and do the funniest things.  I kept journals to remember them all.  I think one of my favorite things about my son was watching him think of what he wanted to be when he grew up.  When he was four he came to me and said, “Momma, I know what I want to be when I grow up.”  I asked what.  He said, “A black doctor.”  I smiled, looking at this little white boy.  I knew his favorite doctor was African American.  I said, “I think that’s great.  You can be anything you want.”  He smiled and left to go play with his toys.  I loved that moment.  One of favorite moments with my daughter was when my ex husband and I were getting ready for church.  Our bathroom had two sinks.  He was at his, shaving, I was at mine, curling my hair.  Sitting on the dock of the bay was playing on the stereo and we were dancing as we looked in the mirror, continuing to get ready. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my 9 month old baby.  She was sitting on the floor, holding her socks with her mouth and wiggling to the beat of the music.  She was dancing, too.

I also found out how it feels to nearly lose a child.  My son got sick with an unexplained illness when he was 7.  His fever shot up, he had unstoppable diarrhea and vomiting.  The doctor visits and medicine wasn’t helping.  At one point he was in the tub.  Everything exploding out his little body and he looked up at me and asked, “Momma.  Am I dying?” That was the hardest moment in my life.  I told him no, but I knew it was a possibility.  We rushed him to the ER.  His blood pressure was 187/165.  They said he should be having a stroke or heart attack.  His kidneys were failing.  5 days later, after many treatments, and a miracle, he got well.  He is a strapping young man now with an incredible wife.

I got to watch both of my children get married.  I love their spouses.

I have been to Disneyland in California and Universal studios in Florida.  I got to stay in a condo each Summer and spend vacations with my kids on the beach in Destin, Florida.  I got to see most of our 50 states.  I have lived everywhere from one coast to the other. Delaware to California.

I’ve experienced a proposal in Ireland along with my first book signing there.  I wrote a novel.  I have a children’s book out, too, under my legal name.  I have been a Sunday School teacher, run an in home daycare for the underprivileged, sold Mary Kay cosmetics, been a make up girl in a department store, a receptionist, a bounty hunter, a certified nurses assistant, a cashier, but most importantly a mom.

My 48 years have seen friendships created and friendships ended, the same goes for romantic relationships.  But through it all, God has blessed me.  Somehow there has always been shelter and food and loved ones.

I am going to be 48 years old next month and I am so excited to see where the next chapter takes me.  I’ve experienced hardships and blessedly easy moments.  Life will give me more of each and I welcome them both.  All of these things make me who I am and who I am going to be.

I found a stone shaped like a heart on my walk yesterday.  It seemed so very appropriate. Because I can choose to see hope in that fact that is it shaped like a heart or I can choose to see it as the heart of stone I could so easily have myself.  I choose hope.  I choose to see it as a reminder not to let the hardships in life, harden my heart.  I choose love.

Thank you for reading.  x

Oh, where to begin.  Starting over is never easy.  The last time I started over it was exciting.  I had a plan.  Well, sort of had a plan.  More like, I had a man.  I have always had a man there to take care of me in some way.  I lived on my own when I was a teenager.  I moved in with my best friend three weeks after graduating high school.  She and I had been besties for 6 years.  It was exciting and new, but within a year I had struck out on my own.  I lived in a small condo that was on the border of foreclosure.  I rented from a nice man and his wife for a year.  I didn’t make much money and nearly starved to death.  My average weight is 125.  I met a nice man at work.  He was 15 years my senior.  My weight was down to 104 pounds.  He fed me and I married him.  I knew from the start that we married for the wrong reasons.  I moved into his home, when to his church, learned to like many of the things that he liked.  I conformed to his way of life.  By the end of the relationship I found myself going from being a sheltered housewife to a bounty hunter, then a makeup artist at a department store.  Two children and nearly twenty years later we divorced.  I ended up in another long term relationship.  I moved from Texas to Delaware to be with him.  I ended up on welfare until the state offered me a career opportunity.  I did the schooling and became a Certified Nurses Assistant.  I worked in home health and took care of mostly elderly patients.  Many of them over 90.  After a few years they would pass on and I would be devastated.  I stayed in that relationship for 5 years.  He was a quadriplegic.  That was why I chose to become a CNA.  I conformed to his way of life.  It ended and I wanted to move to Maine.  My dream was to live in a little house by a lighthouse and write.  Maybe work as a barmaid.  But my kids were grown and renting a house in Texas.  My daughter and her husband, my son and his then fiance’ (now wife). They had an extra bedroom and asked me to live with them while I got on my feet.  So I did.  Maine could wait for a while.  I missed my kids.  It was the most amazing year, living with the four of them.  I got to know my son in law and daughter in law.  I love them.  In fact, she is one of my closest friends now. We talk about everything.   Within a month of moving in with them and anxious to heal and figure out who I was and what I wanted, I fell right into my next relationship.  I wasn’t ready for a relationship but I didn’t know that at the time.

We would do the long distance thing for a year and then I moved to California to be with him.  I moved into his apartment, learned the ropes of travel, learned the art of public speaking.  I conformed to his way of life.  Are you seeing a pattern here?  This relationship ended, too.  I am still broken over this one.  I am still in love with him and he is still in love with me, but we both know we did the right thing.  Personal reasons that I will not go into.

So here I am.  But this time, my mind is different.  I was in cognitive behavior therapy for the last year.  The state of California offered to help me after my suicide attempt.  They offered me free therapy if I was willing to become a case study.  I agreed.  It made a huge difference in me.  I am starting the workbook over.  The last time I worked through it, I did it all from the perspective of one trying to save a relationship.  Now I am doing it from the correct perspective.  I am doing it so I can heal.  So I can be stronger, more in touch with that little voice that tells me when something is wrong.  I can look back on my life and see that in almost every heartbreaking or devastating situation I found myself in, I heard that little voice first.  I would argue with it and try to reason away my concerns.  I don’t do that anymore.  I listen now.  I seek out that little voice now through prayer.  This is not a get out of jail free card for the ones who have chosen to hurt me.  It is simply me taking responsibility for my own poor decisions.

I admit, I am scared.  I haven’t been ‘on my own’ since I was nineteen years old.  And really, this is the first time I have been 100% single since I was a teen.  Not someone hurting over a recently ended relationship and falling into new one immediately.  I am not open to being taken advantage of due to my vulnerability.  I am vulnerable, my emotions are raw, my mind still goes in and out of feeling independent to feeling like a scared little mouse in a the middle of a herd of elephants and looking for a safe place.  Then I remember, I have one of the strongest support systems one could ask for.  I have a hundred arms ready to give me a much needed hug.  I am at a place in my life that I have never experienced before.  And I am eternally grateful for the friendships that have stayed intact since my last break up.  He introduced me to a world of people that welcome the hurting, the lonely and the scared.  They not only welcome you, but once they take you in, they never let you go.  I have blessings that have remained from all the difficult situations that I have somehow put myself in.  Something good has always come from any of the bad in my life.  And I am so very grateful.

So here I am.  I have gone from a life of luxury and travel to one of very low pay, lots of hard work cashiering and time to focus on me and heal.  I paid all my bills this month and had money for food.  My son and his wife have taken me in until I can get on my feet.  I wake up to people who love me and encourage me every single day.  I get hugs and I love you’s.  I have a place to work, with people I consider friends.  I feel loved every where I go. I have an online community who supports me.  And most of all, I have me.  I am learning to love me and believe in me.  I am taking it one day at a time.  Some days I fail, some days I cry and some days I smile.  And other days, like today, I do it all.

Thank you for taking the time to read.  I love you all.  x