Tag: gratitude

Endings. Lessons.

Sunkissedsoul

You know… Over a year ago, a wonderful man came back into my life. We had initially met in 2018 when we were both really broken and we had a super fun time together.

We drifted apart but remained friends, checking in with each other over the years. That man came back into my life at the beginning of Covid.

A friendship grew into a real life relationship. We were a couple. 🙂 We even decided to put it on social media….”in a relationship “!

I remember when we did that, I was terrified. I was wondering what people would think. Were they think we were like giddy high schoolers?. Kind of we were… This part was a first for both of us.. And man did it feel good to know someone was proud to publicly and proudly “claim” me? Yes!

Would they judge us if it didn’t last? Would they relish in our togetherness and then make scandalous stories up about our demise? It was scary. We did it anyway.

So what’s the point of my sharing?

Relationships can be very scary. Each person has been traveling their own journey and very likely, one or both parties have been hurt before. Now we are supposed to trust and love again… Things that deepen (or don’t) with time.

If we are willing participants, relationships, whatever the outcome, teach things about ourselves.. Sometimes they teach us absolutely beautiful things that we are proud of… Like how big we are really able to love. Sometimes they teach us things about ourselves when another layer is exposed and we know that we need more healing. Either way… There are lessons to learn and beauty to be had.

Back to that wonderful man… We had time together filled with ups and downs just like life. We grew individually and together. We taught, loved and supported one another. In the end, we are better as friends in this season.

We are both back to “single“ as our relationship status on social media. I don’t feel silly or dumb. I feel thankful for the journey and proud that we opened ourselves up to the experience.

“Single” doesn’t change our value, our worthiness, or our desire to love and be loved.

Single doesn’t change that this man is one of the most extraordinary, big hearted, warriors that I have ever known.

Single doesn’t change how thankful I am for the journey, whatever the outcome.

We don’t love to win or to lose. We love to love.

Summer Days

Sunkissedsoul

I’m sure going to miss my quiet time at the pool as the weather changes and I start working a new job while Stelly returns to school. There is something about the pool or being in water that brings me such peace and I can just forget about everything for a little bit.

I will definitely miss hanging out with my beautiful baby girl, and running over to my precious mama or handsome son for a hug and and other lackadaisical no make up no messing with my hair structureless kind of days.

But oh how I long for the crispy fall air and positive changes to come.🍁🍂🍁.

I am honored to be stepping into my dreams. How lovely to love and be loved; to pray and be prayed for; to watch Gods restoring hand move. How sacred to walk through the journey of another with them.

So….summer days…I know you are slowly saying goodbye. My drooping plants feel it too. I have treasured and will treasure you even as I enter the next season.

With gratitude, thanks for letting me walk in the sun.❤️☀️

Happy Halloween 2020

Sunkissedsoul

What an odd Halloween it has been.

My daughter had a friend over, so did I. A quiet evening at home…just like many of the others.

I’m sure my adult son is out with friends. I miss him.

I miss pre Covid days and I’m trying hard to extract the value of the Covid era.

I miss my littles and costumes and trick or treating and I miss working with littles.

Thank you to everyone who has shared fabulous pictures on Facebook, they were joy bringers.

I miss seeing my clients and connecting face to face.

I MISS MY PEOPLE. Waaah. I always try and remember not to “at least” people because I feel that diminishes the hurt they’re experiencing. I noticed that I kind of “at least” myself but right now I’m just gonna whine about it. I can be thankful and sad at the same time.

All that said…

I think if there was an emotion to feel today, I’ve felt it. 🤦‍♀️💯 Is it that damn mercury in retrograde or the upcoming election or Covid or my own personal thoughts?

I thought I was managing my stress but my body thought otherwise.

By evening, my busy mind caught up with me and I just felt ick and had a big ole nap.

Note to self…either deal with my feels or they deal with me.

Joy comes in the morning. Gratitude is here tonight….right along w my grumbles.

In the meantime

Sunkissedsoul

In the meantime….

My downstairs toilet made a gurgling noise two nights ago.  There was nothing in the toilet so I flushed it to see if the noise would stop.  Instead of flushing down, water rose to the top.  Despite my professional plunger efforts, the water would not go down.

I shut the water valve to the toilet off before running to home depot (literally across the street)  to purchase Green Goblin to destroy the issue…I thought.  I always used this in our old home and had great success.  Anywho…never had to use the Green Goblin as I returned home and saw that the toilet had drained.  Whew.  Bullet dodged.

I made a quick trip to Walmart (a block away) to grab a few groceries…maybe gone 20 minutes.  I came back to such a surprise!  Poop water (aka sewage…aka Class 3 according to the restoration man) had flooded every crevice from the downstairs bathroom, down the hall, down the stairs into my split level living room and into the living room.

An.explosion.of.poop.  Everybody’s poop.  Thank God my adrenaline was pumping so hard that I didn’t have time to stop and reflect on the new floor covering.  I knew my friend was on his way over so we could watch a movie and have dinner.  Honestly, my first thoughts were that he was going to gross out and leave me here to deal with this.  I would need to call my brother or my ex husband.

I had begun laying towels everywhere when friend (we will call him D) walked in.  I yelled for him to be careful.  Without explanation; he knew what was on the floor.  Instead of leaving, he grabbed towels and started helping me with the mess.  Together we cleaned, using every single towel, sheet and blanket that we could find.  I know…gross.

We had almost everything cleaned.  I began my second round of sanitizing laundry and we decided to go to Home Depot for a big mop.  We made another expedient trip there, grabbed a mop and $5 mop  bucket (Did you know some mop buckets cost $70 or more?)

We came home, ready to mop and sanitize; shower and order dinner…in that order!  Can you imagine the expletives that sounded when we walked in to find that sudsy water had now flooded the entire living room floor? As a matter of fact, that water was still shooting out of the sink in the bar area as well as from underneath the sink where the pipes are.

We did our best to keep up but it would not stop (yes, D shut the water valve under the sink off).  He mopped, and I (with gloved hands) squeezed the mop….since I didn’t buy the $70 bucket with the squeezee apparatus.  We were our own Saturday Night Live episode…from back in the good ole days…when SNL was super funny!

D told me to shut the washing machine off when he surmised that is where the water was coming from.  He was correct.  The pouring of water stopped.  Finally.  The floor was soaked, we were drenched in water and poo water and all the yuck; still we were laughing.  So thankful for D’s presence and willingness to help….sometimes we need a friend to help us not become blithering balls of tears curled up in the fetal position, right?  Sometimes those friends are the same ones laying curled up with us…but that’s for another post.

I felt that the floor needed just one more round with the mop.  D told me we had done all we could for the night; the floor was slippery and I needed to stay off of it so I didn’t fall.  I know I have balance issues, true.  I didn’t realize the floor was quite as slippery as it was.

Being a tiny bit of a stubborn soul, I decided yes to one more round with the mop.  I headed down the steps into the living room.  My bare feet gave way to the wet floor.  There I was…on my bottom, sliding down the hard, sharp edged stairs.  One, two, three, I hit each of them with my booty, tailbone and right hip.  Ouch.

This was reminiscent of being a little kid who loved sliding down the carpeted stairs on her booty.  Reminiscent because I slid down so easily; yet entirely a different experience.  D helped me up.  Kind of.  As much as I would allow. Falling tends to make me feel fearful…too much passing out as a kid.  Yuck.

Anyway….I had attempted to call my property management company emergency number several times, as well as their office, when this was happening.  I never got a call back.  I finally reached out the the owner of my condo and told him.  He was sending a plumber in the morning.  I felt it needed to be right then, but I am not the decider of all things.

In the morning, the property management company called.  By now, I was fuming that they had not called me and been a part of any of this.  Long story short, the office person tends to be extremely rude, makes me feel like a criminal any time I report something and now was asking numerous questions that supported her past behavior.  I felt she was trying to make this my fault.

I sent an email of complaint and asked for her supervisors number.  I did not get that yet.  I have gotten a sudden amount of kindness when she speaks to me.  I still want to speak with the supervisor.

The restoration company is now ripping out the entire living room floor bc of the class 3 damage.  When the owner was speaking with the property management company, she asked him to step away from me to talk.  This was obvious and confirmed when I asked him about it later. My mistrust in her affirmed in that moment.

Thank God the plumber found NOTHING in the system that was not supposed to be there.  I was well aware that if the clog were due to feminine products, we would be responsible.  (We grew up with a very touchy septic system and our Daddy drilled it into our heads that only toilet paper went down the toilet.  If there was a clog, we girls knew the first question from Dad would be; “Did you flush anything that shouldn’t be flushed?”) My daughter and I are both extremely cautious about this as are our guests (at least we make them aware…I never have actually accompanied anyone on their potty break).  Still…lots of teenage girls so that was a thought on my side too.

I am sure the property company management (PMP} lady dislikes me.  Or she likes to pretend she dislikes me for fun?  At this point, the owner might dislike me too and I hate that possibility.

PMP lady has told me the owner is frustrated with all of ‘my issues’.  I reminded PMP lady that with exception to one issue and this, everything I have turned in has been existent since before we moved in on March 24 of this year.  It takes me several times to get a response and then several weeks for them to provide the cheapest solution possible.  I’m sure the owner is paying them and I wonder if this is just how the system always works.

Enough of that!  Last night, the precious people from the restoration company were working hard well past 8 pm.  I came downstairs to get a drink and didn’t realize that it was wet at the bottom of the stairs.

I was made aware of the wetness as my bottom again made contact with the ground, magically, I bounced off the same areas this go round too!  The people working were super kind and tried to help me up.  I assured them I was fine and just needed a moment.

Truly not their fault, I just didn’t anticipate the wet floor.  I am moving around like a little ole lady this morning!  Lol but not really lol.

Here it is…no matter who is pleased with me or not (and lately it seems like a lot more not than this lady is comfortable with)…I’m okay.

God has my back and He is Good.  All of the time.  Even as I walk through literal s*h&t, he provides a tangible friend here for me and always His mighty love.  The question remains as always…will I accept it?

Still, my bum hurts.

A tribute to my brother

Sunkissedsoul

Thirty three years ago today, my brother Brent passed away.   He was killed in a motorcycle accident at the young age of 27.

I was in Tennessee with Mom, Dad and our dachsund Schatze when it happened.

Looking back….the trip was ‘off’ from the get go.  My Grandma had been very upset with me for choosing to go with my parents rather than stay with her.  Our little Schatze hurt her back on the way to Tennessee.  The air just felt unusually tense.  It was too hot.  Something in the motor home broke.  We came home from the Grand Ole Opry and there was a message to visit the office.  My Dad got the call.  The news was devastating.

Today is not for recounting all the ugly details. I’ve done that before and truly, there is no use going to that painful place today. The interesting thing is that I journaled about every moment during the trip.  Even without looking back, the memories are as vivid in my mind as if they had happened yesterday.

Today is for acknowledging my brother.  A beautiful, artistic soul who has been said to have been born ahead of his time.  A creative, warm spirit that I was just beginning to really get to know. A man who served his country and loved living overseas.

I miss him terribly.  I often wonder what he would be like today and wish I’d gotten to know him as an adult; and that my children could’ve known their cool uncle. I am incredibly thankful for his presence in my life for any amount of time.  Time.  Treasure it.

Suffice it to say, there is a space in many hearts that will always be only for Brent Eugene Suppes.  He is extraordinarily missed.

As his wife always says, “Forever Young”.  True story.

God bless you everyone.  Breathe in the moments, for the moments are all we have.

Real Life

Sunkissedsoul

My heart hurts this morning. I’m scared and I feel lonely. I could keep quiet and not share this, yet I feel nudged to do otherwise.

I know truth versus my feelings.

I’m not alone. I have a God who is already in my tomorrow and faith does reign over my fear.

I long for something relationally different, yet I am never alone. My God has never and will never forsake me.

Keeping my vulnerability under wraps is me believing the lies. It is me not honoring who I am to save another’s discomfort. It is me not being me.

I do live in gratitude and seek a path of surrender and trust.

Still, I am afraid of unknowns. Sometimes my most honest prayer is a “Lord, please help me with my unbelief.” I know you are there but I’m often not sure that our definitions of “okay” match. I need help trusting that your “okay” is far better.

I lived through a corrective heart surgery at 9 months of age that was a glorious medical miracle. My childhood was shaped by my Grandmas mental illness. There was a stroke that I “shouldn’t have survived”. A divorce that left me reeling. Daddy’s battle with Alzheimer’s. So much more.

I am here.

For whatever reason, I am here.

I am deeply compassionate toward those suffering with mental illness as a result of those childhood years.

The love of and for my family (immediate and extended) is abundant, genuine and solid.

My friends are a balm to my heart. They surround me with accountability, support, love, laughter and insight. They are my framily.

That stroke taught me lessons that nothing else could; it gave me a whole new lens to see with.

That divorce. It sucked. From those married years I have the best two children; glorious beyond anything I ever prayed for. Perfectly imperfect yet perfect for me. An ex-spouse who is my best friend and a growing up me.

Alzheimer’s. I learned to truly find joy in the journey. Daddy and I. Healing, laughter, tears and so much love. Precious memories made all while the memory thief was hard at work. Irony at its best.

Grief taught me…everyone’s path is experienced differently. For me, guttural crying and rolling around on the floor until your bones ache was part of the path. No need to be sorry. It’s my path to travel.

….although your heart physically aches and hope might seem beyond reach, the sun will rise again, one day. In the meantime, let it rain as long as you need rain.

…your experience is normal for You. If and when a plethora of people are feeling concerned, take heed, don’t be afraid to seek help. Medication, counseling, church….find your support and dive into it free from shame.

Always lessons learned. Gratitude sought. Love expressed. Faith over fear reached for.

Here I remain, human as human can be.

In this moment God, I am lonely. My heart hurts. I am afraid. Help me be a light and glorify your heart in the middle of my fear and solitude. Help me love you deeper. Help me strengthen my faith. And please hold me tight. I know there are gifts in this part of the journey too.

May we all seek and savor them.

Be blessed loves.

Sprinkle some more hope in, please

Sunkissedsoul
I am learning gobs about myself throughout the process of obtaining a Master’s degree, and especially through this CCI. (It’s a Critical Competency Interview and it’s a BIG deal).
 
1) I tend to freeze or give up right before I reach the point of success. This applies to self-care, eating healthy, mindfulness, my children, dating and so much more….but not to school and not to work. I wonder why that is and what I’ve cost myself with this behavior.
 
I guess I’ll delve into that later but first I will finish this CCI and Family Teen Camp.
 
2) If I am scared I won’t do it right, I would just rather not do it.
So many ways to do this but my favorite is to just pretend it doesn’t exist. (I.E. Make a treatment plan, budget, APA questions that I ‘should’ not struggle with etc) In the end, this doesn’t work out in my favor.
 
3) If doing it requires asking for help, it’s very likely not going to happen. This is especially funny since I always encourage others to remember we are made for relationship and connection, and that we all need to help one another. Lifelong struggle…I’d rather be the helper not the helpee.
 
Additionally, if I have been helped in the ways that have touched my heart deepest,, my deep gratitude carries shame. Shame that I couldn’t do it on my own. Shame that you could see I needed help and gave it without my even asking. Shame that I am in this spot at 46 (almost 47) years old. Feeling needy is so vulnerable to me and I hate it. Yet, you all are part of my heart beat and I don’t think I’d ever have enough words to adequately express my love and gratitude for you.
 
4) I am very impatient in the things that matter. I think (in the moment) that I prefer my own timing over God’s timing. I look back and see clearly that His timing is ALWAYS better so I’m not sure why I am so incredibly hesitant to trust Him now.
 
I settle for what’s given rather than wait for what I pray for, and for what I am worth. Nice in the moment…empty soon after. This applies to food, relationships, self-care, etc) Knowing I view myself so much less than sometimes hurts my heart.
 
5) I really am right where I am supposed to be and I truly do have everything I need in this moment. Still, I can be impulsive, impatient, controlling and self-sabotaging. I’m on this journey…learning, growing, loving and evolving.
 
Hope is a beautiful and a fragile thing.  I need a little more of it sprinkled in my life right now.
 
Happy Thursday, I love you all!

The Bakery Experience

Sunkissedsoul

Did you know that a doughnut experience or bar is a really trendy thing to do at weddings right now?  I love it!  I especially love it since it goes right along with my current train of thought.

I’ve been thinking so much about doughnuts (and not just because I have had no more than two bites of a doughnut since last April!).  My ex husband and I had a delightful conversation about donuts a couple of weeks ago and this analogy has been spinning around in my brain since then.

So…let’s take a little trip to the corner bakery shop.  (Remember that childhood song; “Well, I walked around the corner and I walked around the block, and I walked right in to a bakery shop…and I picked up a doughnut and I wiped off the grease…and I handed the lady a 5 cent piece.  Well…she looked at the nickel and she looked at me, and she said, “kind sir, can’t you plainly see?”  There’s a hole in the nickel, there’s a whole right through.  Said I, there’s a hole in the doughnut too!)  This is apparently the world’s best song, so says my brain as it hears it for the billionth time!

There is every kind of doughnut imaginable.  Iced, sprinkled, coconut flakes, powdered sugar, cookie bit toppings, even one with bacon bits.  I’m a pretty simple lady.  I just want something comforting, traditional and of course, absolutely delicious.

Countless doughnuts are before me, their tempting aromas floating through the air.  I choose what I imagine will be the most wonderful doughnut of all.  It was just set out on the cooling rack.  Warm and sticky to the touch, but not hot.  I pick it up, inhaling it’s sweet scent as I bring it closer to my lips.  My tummy rumbles and my mouth waters, I have not tasted a confection treat like this for a full year.

This particular doughnut (because it’s my chosen doughnut), is  softly round, gently iced with freshly made chocolate icing, perfectly heated and so melty that it will dissolve in my mouth.  Oh!  It is wonderful to look at, arouses my senses when I think about how exquisite it is going to be to eat every last bite of it.

I lick my lips and bring the object of desire close, I open my mouth and take the first bite.  Savoring every nibble;  I am pleased that this doughnut is every bit as magnificent as I’d hoped.  I’ve eaten about 1/2 of it when I begin to feel it’s sticky sugars coat my teeth and the roof of my mouth. I need a napkin because even though I have licked the icing off my fingers, they are still sticky.   I am quite thirsty.

Unfortunately, the water at the doughnut shop has been shut off and they are out of milk and juice.  I ask for coffee.  There is no coffee.  So, I sit down at the lone booth, all of a sudden aware that there is no one in the bakery shop other than the man serving donuts.  My thirst grows and my mouth feels pasty.  Where is the doughnut guy anyway?  It seems I am my only company.

I look at the doughnut remains in my hand, looking drastically less appetizing than before.  I am a little bit bored and unfocused…so I finish it off; not enjoying the last 1/2 nearly as much as the first.  Still, no one is here.  I am a little lonely.  Actually, my stomach kind of aches.  I don’t know if it was the sugar or something else.  I kind of wish I would’ve stopped after just a taste.  I feel bitterness rise in my throat.  I haven’t experienced acid reflux since I stopped eating sugar and now look…one little doughnut.  Why did I choose this when I knew what it would do to me?

I am alone in the bakery.  I see that the counters are a 60’s kind of bright yellow and the room all of a sudden feels too bright.  My stomach is bloated at the top and I need something to quench my thirst.  Where are the people?  My feelings of loneliness increase and I’m overcome with the feeling that I can’t leave fast enough.

I place a dollar bill on the table, in case the guy comes back and I walk out.  I feel the breeze on my skin, a little colder than when I came in.  The sun is out but it’s not warm enough.  I am reminded of the  way life used to be when I consistently chose the doughnut.  I am uncomfortable in my own skin and wish I could have a re-do.

Friends!!!

This is me talking about my dating life right now.  Let me break this down.

Physicality in a relationship…that’s the doughnut.  It’s sooooo yummy!  It’s soooooo fantastically good to a woman who loves feeling desired, giving, being close, being told she’s beautiful, ALL of the good stuff.  It’s enjoyable, phenomenal, pleasurable and fun!

The point is, the doughnut is super sweet in the beginning.  It is scintillating, intoxicating, forbidden yumminess!  Let’s be honest…kisses are fabulous, snuggles are warm, our insides are gooey goodness.  It’s all incredibly hard to resist. In spite of all this, it might be best to not indulge in the doughnut; or at least give some thought and intention before that first bite. Once you have a nibble, the cravings set in.

But, if that is all there is…the doughnut…I’m left with nothing but reminders of what I don’t have that I once (kind of) had.  I tell myself, no more doughnuts.  No more donuts!  NO MORE DOUGHNUTS!

I eat the doughnut anyway.  I get angry with myself because it was just a doughnut.  My hunger is not satisfied, I am thirsty still and I am alone.

Doughnuts aren’t bad.  Doughnuts are very, very good. They should just be ingested with a generous dose of awareness and wisdom.  There’s good stuff in that doughnut song.  There is a reason there is a hole in the doughnut.  The doughnut alone isn’t enough.  At least in my life, for me, for now.

Picture that same warm out of the oven, sticky, perfectly iced, soft doughnut.  Instead of an empty coffee shop, I am in line with many others.  I don’t really see them though, because my attention is focused on the one special person who I walked hand in hand here with.

We order a doughnut to share, because neither of us eat much sugar.  (Okay…that’s too much of a fantasy, we each get our own doughnut!) He quietly pays for our purchase and for the family behind us.  I admire and respect his heart and consider that he is worth everything I have been through to get to him.  I know he looks at me the same.

Also, we have coffee with real cream.  We sit down with our doughnuts.  The conversation is easy and the laughter is abundant.  This guy.  He is yummy, he is kind, he thinks I am the most beautiful woman in the world.  We both think the doughnut is so much better when it comes with coffee and connection.  We discuss a little bit of the silliness of the doughnuts we enjoyed when we didn’t believed doughnuts were all there were.  There is deep gratitude for the now.

We agree, this is how it’s been for us…

Only the doughnut….  It’s sugary and temporarily satisfying.  But then what?  (Again, if one is in a place of only wanting the doughnut, enjoy the doughnut!)

Then, there is the whole bakery experience. Enjoying the doughnut with someone who savors it with you; someone who takes you to the bakery shop and sits with you; sips coffee; kisses and conversation are never ending.  Maybe even read the paper (or a little Anais Nin and Henry Miller to each other).

Doughnuts vs. The Bakery Shop…my preferences are a changing.

 

 

 

CHOSEN

Sunkissedsoul

Sitting in my group psychotherapy class, in a group….it’s my turn to share.  We had each made a collage with images or words that symbolized our spiritual life, gender role, sexual orientation, masks we wear, an identity not mentioned that was important to us and a few other things.

We had been a little bit focused on the topic of death, namely, how our lives would change if we knew we only had 10 years left to live.  There were discussions of dropping out of grad school, deciding no children could be birthed if there were only 10 years with them, and support for having kids even though because the experience was so valuable.  It wasn’t my turn to speak yet, my mind was spinning with thoughts.  10 years!  10 years?  TEN YEARS!  What a gift!  I thought back to the stroke in 2009 and how terrified I was to die.  If someone promised me 10 more years from now, it would almost be a relief.  Then I could stop wondering how much more time I had with my people and in this life. Ten years seems awfully precious when I consider that no one actually knows if they even have the next moment.

The question was posed directly to me, “What was the hardest thing on your collage for you?”   I began sharing;  “You see, in 2009, I had a massive stroke, I had to learn to walk again.”  Having my own mortality in my face like that and realizing how precious it was to be able to walk contributes well to thinking that 10 more years is a gift.  Our professor remarked, “Gosh, you are almost 10 years out from that stroke.”  I am!  I hadn’t even thought of that, and somehow it seems like something that I should celebrate even more than I do every other year.

(SIDENOTE:  I know I drive others crazy with my selfie taking and insistence on picture taking during nearly anything.  My classmates were fussing about precisely this at lunch today, thus, I explained to them the why’s of my insistence.  

My Daddy lost his memories with his Alzheimer’s.  I recognized from that how very important pictures were in helping tell him stories, whether he recalled or not, we remembered precious moments.  Also, after the stroke, I lost a few big  chunks of memories that I treasure.  In looking at pictures or videos, it will often trigger a memory recollection that I had lost.  Lastly, I NEVER took a selfie until after my divorce.  I’m truly not vain.  However, I do cherish memories and know it is possible to lose them.  This is why I like to have so many pictures.  The selfies….they help me remember where I’ve been and how far (usually) I’ve come.)

I continued, “So, the hardest thing on this collage is the blank spot on the bottom left corner.  It is blank because I couldn’t find the word.”  “I was looking for the word chosen“.

This ties in with my ideas of spirituality.  I can trust the process.  I can trust that I am right where I am meant to be.  I can trust that I have a bright future ahead.  I can trust God.  “The reason that chosen ties in with this seems insignificant but I know it’s not.”  In my heart, I know that I have been chosen for many things that I am not deserving of.  I am healthy, whole and breathing, for a start.

I explained in detail, “When I look back and see how God has put the puzzle pieces together, I know He is trustworthy.  In hindsight, He is good.  However, for the future, I struggle with this whole trust thing hugely.  There are two driving factors to my thinking.

First, I am not really sure that the desires of my heart are worth His time, or the plan, or whatever.  Second, I still grapple with the lifetime thoughts that I am not worth it.  Period.  That said, I took a deep breath and shared what my deepest desire was.

I absolutely want to share my life with a mate.  This is terrifying to me.  I explained, “My ex-husband is my best friend, we were together for 23 years and I don’t want to lose that friendship.”  Hard questions followed and the tears that had started flowing the minute I spoke hadn’t stopped.  I decided that my vulnerability in this moment was a good thing, even if it totally sucked.  I know (believe) that when I give my heart to someone, the relationship between my ex and I will need to change.

We will always be important to one another, and we will always have a friendship and co-parent our precious children.  However, we still at times share the intimate nature of friendship that I feel belongs in a relationship.  No more romance but all of the deep connection.  It’s weird.  I just know deep down that will change; and although it could be very positive, it’s super scary.  For 23 years, we have been there for one another.  Who will ever know me so well?  I don’t know how to navigate any of this so even thinking about the possibilities makes me want to throw up in my mouth.

Despite these fears, I long for that intimate, soul sharing connection with the man who I hope exists not just in my heart and mind.  I pray my desires aren’t denied.  I don’t like saying any of this.  It’s quite uncomfortable.  I do not ‘need’ a man.  If it is true that I want my own fairy tale, I am resentful of even wanting that.  I recognize that my fears are holding me back and I am trying my damnedest to work my way out of them.

Back to the word, “chosen“…let me paint what this looks like to me.  I want to be the woman that is not second choice to another woman and is in competition with no one.  I want to choose and be chosen; to cherish and be cherished; to treasure and be treasured; to accept and be accepted; to trust and be trusted; and to passionately love and be passionately loved.  All with the wildness and naturalness we are capable of.

Whether my hair is long or short, my booty is flat or bubblicious, whether my emotions are a jumbled mess or I am steady as a surgeon’s hand…just see me (an my people) and love me (us) right there, just like that.  Just as I am (we are).

Is that a crazy notion? I want to give these things right back, in the manner they are needed.  I guess this is my version of a fairy tale.  I went to the restroom and cleaned of my mascara stained face, then returned to my desk.  I picked up my pen and began an unfiltered 3 page list of what had happened or changed in my life in the past 10 years.  Just look at this…

2009 – 2019

  • Celebratory 1 year ‘birthday’ party on the strokeaversary.  Celebrations on year 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 as well.  I will always celebrate November 9 as a second birthday because it was a second chance that forever changed me for the better.
  • Surgical repair of a paten foramen ovale (hole in my heart suspected to have caused stroke)
  • My babies are 9 years older.  They are 17 and 14.  Just wow.
  • Infidelity in my marriage
  • 3 years of intense marriage therapy and growth
  • Divorce 
  • Started grad school (which I will complete 1 month after my 10th year celebration!)
  • A special journey of self discovery…still in process.
  • Had my only two relationships other than my marriage after divorce. One great, one yuck.  Learning to date.
  • Grappled with God.  Alot.
  • Grappled with self.  Alot.
  • My Daddy battled with Alzheimer’s.  He passed away.  I miss him.
  • Went through and graduated Pathways.
  • Learned more effective ways of dealing with my anxieties and fears.
  • Lost weight. Gained weight. Lost weight.
  • Learning to love myself.
  • Almost lost home due to foreclosure.
  • New and old animals.
  • Worked at Jenks public schools, Sooner Start, Life, Autumn Leaves and I’m sure I’m missing something.
  • Learning the value of letting go, letting go and letting go.
  • Became stronger, wiser, taller, braver, more cognizant of reality and less apt to live in a fantasy land.
  • Continue learning every day.
  • Lost and made and regained and didn’t regain friendships.
  • Endless hugs and kisses, even more heart to heart moments.
  • Drove (all by myself) to Dallas, Kansas, Arkansas, and Missouri.
  • Finding my voice in a positive way.
  • Practicing gratitude more than ever.
  • Stepped out of my comfort zone a billion times.
  • Crossed items off bucket list, including getting fired from Whole Foods!
  • Learning who I am as a grown woman.
  • Treat myself with love and respect more than ever.
  • Gardened until my fingers and feet were mud stained.
  • Cooked a trillion meals.
  • Watched my Momma move out of our family home and into a new home.
  • Stopped sugar and processed foods.
  • Watched more precious nieces and nephews graduate, get married, have babies, enjoy first careers and more.  Added the role of friend in with aunt.
  • Learned that I am strong.  I am a survivor.  
  • Finding my path to joy and freedom (it’s a journey.)
  • Learned to love the word fuck.  As in fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck….because sometimes it’s the only appropriate word even for a princess.  (really a Sailor Sarah)
  • Experienced two fabulous years of marriage that placed hope in my heart for beautiful things.
  • Put dreams into action, see some coming to fruition.
  • Experienced countless storms, rainy days, splashed in puddles, danced, sang, laughed, cried, embraced, shared, found the deepest pain and the most radiant joy, focused on passions, wrote, cooked, held hands with dying people, held new born babies, manicures, pedicures, massages, listened to music, had my eyes opened to the beauty of diversity, loved hard….an endless list.  
  • I’m still breathing.

I’m breathing.  What a miracle I am.  What a miracle we all are.  This gift of life is one I can barely grasp.  What did I do to deserve the goodness of being here and of being me?  Chosen.  Yes.  Want to be chosen in other ways? Yes.

So ya…10 years.  An amazing gift.

 

Briefly forgotten

Sunkissedsoul

Sometimes I get stuck in the muck. Focusing on the lack does that for me.

I forgot my word this year is abundance…as in I have been provided with an abundance of all my needs.

I forgot I have the option to love myself despite someone else’s actions.

I forgot I can choose acceptance over struggle. We are all fighting our own battles and traveling our own journey.

I forgot about grace for all. Forgiveness is healing. Love is stronger than fear. Emotions are okay and gratitude is growth.

Today, I remember these things.

It’s okay to be hurt. It’s not okay to accept the perception of others as an interpretation of my own worth.