So, I'm 3 days away from no longer being divorced in happy valley...
and I'm on to being happily married in Salt Lake Valley.
I feel like this is the part where I talk about what an amazing, hard journey it has been. And well yeah, sure, it has been.
But I just don't feel like talking about that now.
I was perusing Facebook and saw a photo a friend had posted, with a caption of something like, "I totally love her." It was a photo (from what I gathered) of his soon to be wife playing with his kids on the tramp.
And for whatever reason it sort of hit me like a ton of bricks in the face (well, that would really hurt, so maybe something lighter). Anyway, I just thought it was so lovely.
And it got me thinking about my own "soon to be."
I think my experiences over the last several years, in a way, have hardened me. I have built a tough shell around me and my babies, to ensure that no one would ever be able to get in and hurt me/us again.
But like all shells, they not only repel the bad, but they definitely keep out the good too.
And bless his heart, my future hubby sure has had a lot of wall to fight through to get to me. I know I haven't always made it easy for him.
I think it just always comes down to fear.
But let me go back to the photo...
It just made me think "Why can't people just be crazy about each other? In front of EVERYONE!"
This friend posted that photo, with those words, for all to see. You can tell he's crazy about her. And how wonderful is that?
Granted, I tend to be a more private person, public displays have not traditionally been my scene, and I have often been the one instigating the disgust over people "in love."
But, I still feel what I feel about MY love.
Maybe I have gotten to a point where I don't want to make apologies for how I feel. Yeah, I think that's it.
Because yes, it's been a hard, super sucky, awful, yet amazing road. But somehow, I found a great guy who wants to be with me, despite having to bust out the jackhammer and tear down my walls, and despite my past, my quirks and my fears.
I found someone who is crazy about me, and I'm crazy about him.
And no, I don't anticipate a ride that will not have some (multiple, numerous, many...) bumps along the road, but at least when I hit those bumps I'll have someone holding my hand, someone who is on my side. And when I remember that, all that fear melts.
So now I start a new path, and this time I won't be alone. What do you bet I get much farther, or maybe the journey will be a little more enjoyable this time? There's nothing like being married to someone who actually wants to be there...or so I hear.
And I won't make apologies for being crazy about him.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Torn, my internal battle
As of late, I've felt incredibly torn.
I've been experiencing an internal battle of sorts, and I think I've come to the conclusion that these two sides need to coexist, somehow.
From the time I was young it was my dream to write and to be a mother.
I couldn't have realized then that those two dreams would exist side by side...or that those two dreams would create such conflict with one another.
The dreams themselves aren't naturally conflicting. The conflict began when I used writing to make a living.
Or really when I was forced to forfeit...or rather change the way I perceived both dreams.
And perhaps that is where the bulk of my resentment lies with the ex, the one guy I used to be married to.
The divorce, and the ultimate lack of taking up responsibility, by that guy, has forced me to change my perspective on motherhood, and on making a living.
Without my job (which happens to be in writing) I couldn't be a good mother and feed my babies.
But making a living with writing certainly fulfills a big childhood dream.
But sometimes I feel like my need to work pulls me away too much. And all I really want to do is spend time with them, read to them, make them dresses, snuggle with them, find bugs, all that good stuff.
So, this is where my conclusion comes in. These two needs, wants, dreams have been battling long enough. And it is apparent they are better suited to coexist.
I just need to change my perspective. I need to realize the blessing it is to have two dreams fulfilled, even if they aren't in the way I had imagined. And I need to morn the loss of the dreams as I had previously imagined them to be.
And I will have to make the most of my time with my girls and my time writing, so both can be rich and full parts of my life.
And I think it will just always be hard to kiss my babies goodbye, when I go to work. I just have to remember I kiss them goodbye so I can care not only for their emotional, mental and spiritual needs, but so I can care for their physical needs as well.
Because that is what a mother has to do.
And then, I hurry back when work is all done, so we can play hide-and-seek or build a fort out of blankets.
I've been experiencing an internal battle of sorts, and I think I've come to the conclusion that these two sides need to coexist, somehow.
From the time I was young it was my dream to write and to be a mother.
I couldn't have realized then that those two dreams would exist side by side...or that those two dreams would create such conflict with one another.
The dreams themselves aren't naturally conflicting. The conflict began when I used writing to make a living.
Or really when I was forced to forfeit...or rather change the way I perceived both dreams.
And perhaps that is where the bulk of my resentment lies with the ex, the one guy I used to be married to.
The divorce, and the ultimate lack of taking up responsibility, by that guy, has forced me to change my perspective on motherhood, and on making a living.
Without my job (which happens to be in writing) I couldn't be a good mother and feed my babies.
But making a living with writing certainly fulfills a big childhood dream.
But sometimes I feel like my need to work pulls me away too much. And all I really want to do is spend time with them, read to them, make them dresses, snuggle with them, find bugs, all that good stuff.
So, this is where my conclusion comes in. These two needs, wants, dreams have been battling long enough. And it is apparent they are better suited to coexist.
I just need to change my perspective. I need to realize the blessing it is to have two dreams fulfilled, even if they aren't in the way I had imagined. And I need to morn the loss of the dreams as I had previously imagined them to be.
And I will have to make the most of my time with my girls and my time writing, so both can be rich and full parts of my life.
And I think it will just always be hard to kiss my babies goodbye, when I go to work. I just have to remember I kiss them goodbye so I can care not only for their emotional, mental and spiritual needs, but so I can care for their physical needs as well.
Because that is what a mother has to do.
And then, I hurry back when work is all done, so we can play hide-and-seek or build a fort out of blankets.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Stagnant water
Have you ever gone on a hike on a beautiful trail, and come across a little pond...that has no water coming in or water going out?
The water has become stagnant.
It doesn't grow in size (it can and often does shrink).
It doesn't mix with new water, making it fresh, or allowing it to grow.
I think we've come to a time in history where it makes little sense to remain stagnant anymore.
Maybe it's just my profession or the fact that I'm in college, I'm not sure, but I think as humans we need to maintain a flow of information.
It keeps things fresh.
It allows us space to grow.
And we can refrain from becoming stagnant ponds of water.
When we have that constant flow of information in and out, our makeup changes as well.
Just as the temperature of the pond water may change or the pond may be introduced to new species of plants and animals, so can we experience new life and changes when we open ourselves up.
And not only is it important for us to open ourselves up to new information, new ideas, but it's important that we then share that with neighboring ponds.
And then together we can all grow, all stay fresh and be sources and reciprocators of new ideas...new life and new water.
The water has become stagnant.
It doesn't grow in size (it can and often does shrink).
It doesn't mix with new water, making it fresh, or allowing it to grow.
I think we've come to a time in history where it makes little sense to remain stagnant anymore.
Maybe it's just my profession or the fact that I'm in college, I'm not sure, but I think as humans we need to maintain a flow of information.
It keeps things fresh.
It allows us space to grow.
And we can refrain from becoming stagnant ponds of water.
When we have that constant flow of information in and out, our makeup changes as well.
Just as the temperature of the pond water may change or the pond may be introduced to new species of plants and animals, so can we experience new life and changes when we open ourselves up.
And not only is it important for us to open ourselves up to new information, new ideas, but it's important that we then share that with neighboring ponds.
And then together we can all grow, all stay fresh and be sources and reciprocators of new ideas...new life and new water.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Mourning
Choices.
We all make them, we can't not.
Every second we make choice, conscious or unconscious.
Some choices are huge, and some, most are small.
And every choice has a consequence.
But we never get to choose the consequences,
Though there are some, many, that we can anticipate, and then base our decisions on the best anticipated consequence.
Taking in all the possibilities and making all the calculations, we often have the opportunity to make good choices.
But sometimes, we encounter choices that we think are good. Or sometimes we make, even good choices, that come with unintended, unpredictable consequences.
That is a side effect of choice, of life.
When we encounter the unintended consequences of a choice...something we cannot change, because often we can't, we then mourn.
We have to.
We mourn lost time, lost opportunities, broken hearts, missed experiences...the things that will never be, because we made a choice.
We mourn the life we could have had, if only we'd had the sense to choose better.
But,
The fact remains, we didn't choose better.
So we pause. And we mourn.
And hopefully next time...we won't have to, mourn.
We all make them, we can't not.
Every second we make choice, conscious or unconscious.
Some choices are huge, and some, most are small.
And every choice has a consequence.
But we never get to choose the consequences,
Though there are some, many, that we can anticipate, and then base our decisions on the best anticipated consequence.
Taking in all the possibilities and making all the calculations, we often have the opportunity to make good choices.
But sometimes, we encounter choices that we think are good. Or sometimes we make, even good choices, that come with unintended, unpredictable consequences.
That is a side effect of choice, of life.
When we encounter the unintended consequences of a choice...something we cannot change, because often we can't, we then mourn.
We have to.
We mourn lost time, lost opportunities, broken hearts, missed experiences...the things that will never be, because we made a choice.
We mourn the life we could have had, if only we'd had the sense to choose better.
But,
The fact remains, we didn't choose better.
So we pause. And we mourn.
And hopefully next time...we won't have to, mourn.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Don't call your boss an F%@#er
First, I just have to clarify that I did not do this...
There are some things, lessons that people should avoid learning the hard way.
But sadly, some people don't.
Lessons like, having some sense of pride in the organizations you choose to affiliate yourself with. Or be respectful and courteous to other human beings. Or, here's a crazy...don't tell your boss that he's a F%@#er.
Bad move.
Especially when your boss is, and has been extremely chill and laid back with you not learning the previous two lessons.
So to the kid who did this today, I say, "hope you learned your lesson pal."
But when you say stuff like that to the guy who gives you your job, well that is just plain dumb.
There are some things, lessons that people should avoid learning the hard way.
But sadly, some people don't.
Lessons like, having some sense of pride in the organizations you choose to affiliate yourself with. Or be respectful and courteous to other human beings. Or, here's a crazy...don't tell your boss that he's a F%@#er.
Bad move.
Especially when your boss is, and has been extremely chill and laid back with you not learning the previous two lessons.
So to the kid who did this today, I say, "hope you learned your lesson pal."
But when you say stuff like that to the guy who gives you your job, well that is just plain dumb.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
...we may not choose it, but we do our best.
Today I had a friend post something on his Facebook page about single moms and them always having a lot on their plate, and he asked for insight as to why this was.
I had to throw my two cents in the hat, I couldn't help myself.
And I have been thinking a lot about it since.
Being a single a mom is hard, there's no question about that. But why are we in this situation? Why are single moms bombarded with so much responsibility?
And I have to say that I think that (many) of the men in my generation just aren't being men.
I don't know where the fail was, but I see it all too often these days, that men just don't step up.
Men these days are lazy, and selfish and don't hesitate to walk away when things get hard.
They don't hold down a job, or finish school or move out of their folks' basement.
And I certainly don't mean every man. I actually have a man in my life now who is a real man, who works hard, who steps up, who gives of himself. And get this, who lives in his own place.
It's refreshing to see men be a strength and not cower in the face of responsibility.
But the sad thing is, it seems to be a rarity these days. And then you are left with single moms who work three jobs, go to school, chauffeur children, put food on the table and roof over their babies' heads, kiss booboos, read stories before bed, help with homework, video the school play, pay for ballet lessons and much much more.
And we do it willingly. Because its for our sweet sweet children.
But why don't more fathers have that mentality?
I don't know. I just think it's sad.
And, I feel lucky I found someone who is the man he should be.
Today I had a friend post something on his Facebook page about single moms and them always having a lot on their plate, and he asked for insight as to why this was.
I had to throw my two cents in the hat, I couldn't help myself.
And I have been thinking a lot about it since.
Being a single a mom is hard, there's no question about that. But why are we in this situation? Why are single moms bombarded with so much responsibility?
And I have to say that I think that (many) of the men in my generation just aren't being men.
I don't know where the fail was, but I see it all too often these days, that men just don't step up.
Men these days are lazy, and selfish and don't hesitate to walk away when things get hard.
They don't hold down a job, or finish school or move out of their folks' basement.
And I certainly don't mean every man. I actually have a man in my life now who is a real man, who works hard, who steps up, who gives of himself. And get this, who lives in his own place.
It's refreshing to see men be a strength and not cower in the face of responsibility.
But the sad thing is, it seems to be a rarity these days. And then you are left with single moms who work three jobs, go to school, chauffeur children, put food on the table and roof over their babies' heads, kiss booboos, read stories before bed, help with homework, video the school play, pay for ballet lessons and much much more.
And we do it willingly. Because its for our sweet sweet children.
But why don't more fathers have that mentality?
I don't know. I just think it's sad.
And, I feel lucky I found someone who is the man he should be.
Location:Single moms
Monday, March 5, 2012
Read my text
Communication is a funny thing. And I always hear people within the communication field talk about how terrible they are at communicating.
The stats vary depending on the source, but, the illusive "they" say that somewhere between 70-90% of communication is non verbal.
Which can be a little scary in our world of text dominant communication. I mean, jeez, you're reading these words right now, this communication by text. And as much as I wish I could insert my tone of voice or facial expressions into each sentence or word, I can't.
So you just have to take these words at face value.
Which is a hard thing to do. For me anyway.
I base so much of my communication with people off of the way they say something, or the look accompanying their words. Or even their stance as they speak.
So, understandably, texts and tweets and Facebook posts can cause some miscommunications, especially when you consider you're missing 70-90% of the message.
So what's the solution? I'm not exactly about to stop all high tech communication.
Maybe we need to improve our library of emoticons? Haha ;-)
I don't know. Maybe the solution is that we all first just give each other a break and not automatically assume the worst. And second, maybe we should try to be more clear in our selection of words.
And also, when it comes to personal, important conversations, it's just better to put that phone down, log out of Facebook and look that person in the eye and be real with them, take in that extra 70-90% of the message, and really connect.
The stats vary depending on the source, but, the illusive "they" say that somewhere between 70-90% of communication is non verbal.
Which can be a little scary in our world of text dominant communication. I mean, jeez, you're reading these words right now, this communication by text. And as much as I wish I could insert my tone of voice or facial expressions into each sentence or word, I can't.
So you just have to take these words at face value.
Which is a hard thing to do. For me anyway.
I base so much of my communication with people off of the way they say something, or the look accompanying their words. Or even their stance as they speak.
So, understandably, texts and tweets and Facebook posts can cause some miscommunications, especially when you consider you're missing 70-90% of the message.
So what's the solution? I'm not exactly about to stop all high tech communication.
Maybe we need to improve our library of emoticons? Haha ;-)
I don't know. Maybe the solution is that we all first just give each other a break and not automatically assume the worst. And second, maybe we should try to be more clear in our selection of words.
And also, when it comes to personal, important conversations, it's just better to put that phone down, log out of Facebook and look that person in the eye and be real with them, take in that extra 70-90% of the message, and really connect.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Broken hearts
Some things can never be repaired.
It won't matter how much tape is wrapped around,
or how much glue seeps through the cracks.
What's broken is broken.
And you can't take it back,
you can't undo it.
It won't matter how much tape is wrapped around,
or how much glue seeps through the cracks.
What's broken is broken.
And you can't take it back,
you can't undo it.
It doesn't matter
It doesn't really matter how great you are,
how much you accomplish,
how much you overcome,
who you become.
It doesn't matter.
You'll always be your past.
And that's it.
how much you accomplish,
how much you overcome,
who you become.
It doesn't matter.
You'll always be your past.
And that's it.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
I don't care what they think
What if I said that I love, love. Would that make me less tough? Less cool? I don't know. But I have felt for so long that I couldn't or maybe shouldn't be so excited or so giddy about love, weddings and even my impending marriage.
But in reality, if you stop and think about that for just one second, that is absurd. I mean, really?
I should be allowed to be ridiculous and silly about my love. He's amazing, and I adore him. I should be expected to be pouring over bridal magazines and, nowadays, pinterest, in search of that perfect dress, that perfect veil, those perfect flowers that will all be icing on the cake that is the day I marry the man I love.
The man who knows my heart and has taken it and promised to care for it. He is my dream. And I love him and I love our love. And if someone has a problem with that, well whatever, I don't care.
Because I'm happy. And I'm getting married. And this time, it's to the man I love, and to the man who loves me, my friend.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
To those who will never be enough
Somewhere along the way, someone told her she would never be enough.
Never enough to be loved.
Not as she was...not as she could be.
Because she could never be enough.
There would always be some flaw that proved too much, insurmountable.
She couldn't blame them when they walked.
She knew. She wasn't enough.
Some lasted longer than others, but the end was always the same.
She was never enough.
What was it? What about her didn't add up?
She wasn't sure. And yet she knew all the same.
And she knew it would never matter how much she ever became, because it would never. be. enough.
It became her identity.
"Hi, my name is...and I'm never enough."
She longed for the day when one, at least one, redeeming quality would over shadow a flaw.
That day never came until....
....she decided she was enough for herself.
She knew she wasn't perfect. No one is.
And if that guy, or that teacher or that friend doesn't think she's enough, well, they are the ones who aren't enough for her.
But she was enough. She IS enough.
Never enough to be loved.
Not as she was...not as she could be.
Because she could never be enough.
There would always be some flaw that proved too much, insurmountable.
She couldn't blame them when they walked.
She knew. She wasn't enough.
Some lasted longer than others, but the end was always the same.
She was never enough.
What was it? What about her didn't add up?
She wasn't sure. And yet she knew all the same.
And she knew it would never matter how much she ever became, because it would never. be. enough.
It became her identity.
"Hi, my name is...and I'm never enough."
She longed for the day when one, at least one, redeeming quality would over shadow a flaw.
That day never came until....
....she decided she was enough for herself.
She knew she wasn't perfect. No one is.
And if that guy, or that teacher or that friend doesn't think she's enough, well, they are the ones who aren't enough for her.
But she was enough. She IS enough.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Junk drawers and lost thoughts
I've had so many thoughts running through my brain the past few weeks/months. But I haven't been able to put them together, or make sense of them.
The thoughts seem very sporadic and incoherent, hence the reason I can't successfully catalog and organize them.
I guess that's why people have a junk drawer.
I need one for my brain.
A place for all the random, possibly useless...and yet possibly useful thoughts. The thoughts I don't quite know what to do with.
There's just no place for them.
Maybe what they really need is some time in the sun. A day. To walk around and stretch their legs.
Perhaps then they'd be able to find their place.
But airing a thought out or two or twenty can be daunting, exhausting.
Looking at all the ins and outs, analyzing...
But then, I guess if I were doing that, I'm not actually letting it walk around, I'm taking it for a walk.
I need to take the leash off and let it be.
Be the thought that it is.
Perhaps if I stop resisting it, stop trying to tie it down, the lost thought will find it's way home.
Maybe I'm just curious where it will end up.
The thoughts seem very sporadic and incoherent, hence the reason I can't successfully catalog and organize them.
I guess that's why people have a junk drawer.
I need one for my brain.
A place for all the random, possibly useless...and yet possibly useful thoughts. The thoughts I don't quite know what to do with.
There's just no place for them.
Maybe what they really need is some time in the sun. A day. To walk around and stretch their legs.
Perhaps then they'd be able to find their place.
But airing a thought out or two or twenty can be daunting, exhausting.
Looking at all the ins and outs, analyzing...
But then, I guess if I were doing that, I'm not actually letting it walk around, I'm taking it for a walk.
I need to take the leash off and let it be.
Be the thought that it is.
Perhaps if I stop resisting it, stop trying to tie it down, the lost thought will find it's way home.
Maybe I'm just curious where it will end up.
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