The Mirror Once Said.

“The things you are passionate about are not random, they are your calling.” Unknown. Newport, RI.  

Minutes before I stumbled upon the life confirming (literally and figuratively speaking) serendipitous sign that read, “The things you are passionate about are not random, they are your calling,” I had just wrapped up a lengthy “what do you want out of life” discussion with my new partner.  We were only a few months in but I was experienced enough to know that those kinds are best had up front. Surprisingly, he responded to that question with ease-as if he had been pondering and questioning that very sentiment for a while.

For years, we both had just been hanging on. Trying to catch up and get our lives where we wanted them to be. We were going in the right direction but it took a lot of wrong turns and redirection to get there. Then again, following your bliss is never easy. It usually infers giving up what’s comfortable in order to fulfill some desire to feed the unknown. That’s the tradeoff though. The removal of an unwanted layer allows the soul to breathe in exactly what its craving.

  

I’m not here to sugar coat this journey or tell you it’s all sunshine and unicorn glitter. In fact, following your bliss is one of the hardest things you will do. If you choose to do so. It will be a lengthy dissection of self and surroundings, it will take you on a wild ride that no matter how prepared you are, until that first drop, you aren’t and you won’t be. You just have to keep riding in hopes that you won’t lose your shit or lunch along the way.

However, as someone who has been on this ride for a bit, I have do some advice. Look at it as a proverbial barf bag. It’s there to help so take it or leave it. Read it or avoid it. Totally up to you. But before you do anything, ask yourself one question: what led me to this very post? Maybe, just maybe, your soul is trying to tell you something.

To begin with and for whatever reason, (my boss calls it, “shaking the snow globe”) some people may take caution to YOUR RUNNING FREE. They may not agree with what you are doing and they damn sure aren’t going to be there to support it. Hell, some might even fight you the whole way. Pay no mind to this behavior, at the end of the day, it’s your snow globe you’re shaking…so shake it. Do be aware though to the reasons you’re not getting a pep rally for your efforts. Misery loves company and even the most comfortable energy can be toxic to your life changes. When you’re following your bliss, you’re essentially going punk rock on the social norm. To some, this may be offensive or invasive. You, in your own nonchalant way, just told the social norms that YOU were too good for those types of standards. Even though you aren’t verbally saying that, energies will take it as such.

Still, stand tall and keep on moving. You will learn and understand which energies are in your corner and which are not and YOU will have to cut ties accordingly. While you’re essentially flicking off the neighborhood be cognizant to your new found free spirited way of life.  You, my dear, will have to work extra hard at proving that you’re responsible and that you made the right choice. As said before, this is no easy task. Running back to what’s comfortable means you gave up. Why begin the journey in the first place? 

Why exhaust yourself with trying? Rome wasn’t built in a day nor should your life altering odyssey. It takes trial and error. It take being vulnerable enough accept the things you may not be able to change. And it takes time to hone in on how to learn from mistakes with grace and ease.

Regardless, don’t be afraid to fail because you will and you will a few times. It’s easier to accept this now then later, I swear. You will have a grandiose plan all thought out. In your head, A will lead to B and B will lead C and so on and so forth. No, I’m not saying it won’t. It most certainly will. Howbeit, you will also visit Z, T, and L before B but after A. You’re grandiose plan is great and all but it’s just a plan and it deserves to be tweaked. Life doesn’t guarantee nor owe you anything but doesn’t it mean giving up at the first sign of failure. No way!!! Not at all!!! Not going to happen!!! That plan was the reason you got moving in the first place so stick with its foundation. Honor it in fact. Celebrate your failure as a stepping stone to something greater. Bask in the glory of messing up and getting dirty. You’re alive!!! You’re chasing your dreams and most importantly, you’re calling your own shots. The universe gives when it knows you’re ready and if you can’t even deal with sometimes falling, how in the world will you ever learn to walk?   

I never quite grasped this concept until I was much older. Around 31. Sure, I had my likes and dislikes and sought my life out as such but what made me tick and love and speak up and hold my tongue about was and is a constant wheel in motion. Still though, reaching that 30 year mark and beyond has made me more aware of who I was, who I am and who I am going to be. I finally became accountable of managing my own life. Five years in, I can honestly say, I’m living my bliss. It took a long, twisty road to get there and I did almost give up…but I didn’t and if all else fails, at least I know I tried.

Every person has a rite of passage-we are human and therefore meant to screw up but it’s how you handle it that’s important. And, I tell you this now-with age does come wisdom. Learning who you are is a valuable commodity-more important than any accolade or reward or degree could ever give you-knowing who you are is the only sure way to surviving a world meant to destroy.  

While you’re holding onto to who you are, let go of the aspects you didn’t like. If that means people, then do so. If that means scenery, then do so. If that means chapters, then by all means, burn every last damn page. You don’t need that anymore! There is nothing wrong with change and the energy you surround yourself with is and will always be the energy that you keep.  Change can be good. Especially, if you feel lighter immediately thereafter. Once again, it’s scary as all get out but you wouldn’t be going for change if that’s wasn’t what your hearts of hearts was nagging at you to do. Following your bliss IS following your dreams. It’s recreating them with paper cut outs and ideal backdrops. It means dealing with reality and the here and now. The past is the past-store it away and revisit it when you need a reminder of how far you’ve come.  

I’m not going to lie, I still think about the past. I’m human and forgetting about it is easier said than done. The difference now though, I regard my past as a vessel in my growth. It no longer clings onto my future. It’s just a story about me that led me here…to my beautiful life in the Colorado mountains.

Finally, following your bliss means believing in yourself. Our culture is teaching us that we need validation everywhere we turn but that’s society’s issue and it has nothing to do with you. Success is relative and your success should never be measured to someone else’s. You know why? Hahaha. I thought you’d ask. Your success is in your snow globe and you can’t live for anyone until you live for yourself.

Circumstance have their own agenda and most of us have our own set of values and beliefs and all that those encompass. If you’re lucky enough, you’ll get to take in an array of them from a multitude of sources. You’ll learn from those ideals and wade through what impacts you. Positively or negatively, energy binds us to every situation, so don’t dismiss some informal lesson in all of this. Hell, dissect the shit out of yourself and come up with your own conclusion about how the world works and how you precisely jive with those workings. Then, when all that is said and done, live with who you are. Believing in yourself can be your biggest ally. Once again, how can anyone believe in you, if you don’t believe in yourself? You’re beautiful and if push came to shove, you could move mountains. Don’t be afraid to have faith in the notion that you are capable and strong and worthy of a fulfilling life. No one should ever have to tell you this because you should be telling yourself.

So…here you go, fly in any direction your heart is telling you to. Listen to it and don’t be afraid of getting your wings clipped or falling off course, rest assured you will. But, keep flying and shake that snow globe along way as much as possible along the way. There are discoveries to be had and you, my dear, have a bliss to follow.

Eye of the Tiger

I think life is one endless challenge testing my survival. Pushing me to the brink and begging the question, "Will you make it through this?" The answer: I have no choice but to make it through this! I'm a fighter and that's what fighters do. We, no matter how hard it gets, never give up. Even despite our better judgment sometimes. What I'm trying to say is my past will never interfere with my present nor future life, it's just reference point for when days were chaotic and I was lost. Perfectly put: May 4th, 2011 was and will forever be the beginning intro for my self-made manifesto. I mention this date a lot in my writing because for me, it was my personal day of reckoning. It was the day that life thereafter truly changed for me forever. If life isn't throwing us one curve ball, it's throwing us another and in that time of my life, I learned the great art of being ambidextrous.

I'm not saying that I am not vulnerable nor susceptible or even prone to break down every now and again. Hell, I'm as emotional as they come but the difference in me then and me now; my "break downs" include healthy choices. My anger and sadness have subsided and neither one of them consume my every move. I finally understand that we all have things in life that hurt and we all have ways of dealing with that hurt. We also all make choices-whether by our own hands or that of another or a blend of both....those choices all lead us to tell different stories. See, what I am getting at? On the opposite side of that coin neither am I screaming, "I am WOMAN, hear me roar." Although, I would really like to sometimes, I find it unproductive. If I have to scream, I am choosing to allow someone else to take my energy and as the human experience goes...there is always someone willing to do so. I'm not showing my scars to everyone but more importantly nor am I ignoring them. It's a balance. Each flaw, each cicatrix is relic from my past. It's a map of where I've been, what I've been through, and where I am now. A GPS for the soul, if you will.

We all, in one way or another, have lived hard yet triumphed lives and in my opinion; "From experience" is a euphemism for "mistake." You live and you learn. Every time I appropriate a challenge, I conquer it. Which leads to me to the bigger picture: becoming stronger and more cemented in my personal convictions are a distinct and deep rooted attribute of my moral compass. And to think, that once upon a time, I was a weak shell of a person. I had no direction or at least no gusto to get a direction. I was flailing and falling and it felt easier to sink than to try to learn how to float. However, as I said before; I overthrew that nasty jerk. It was me or her and I wasn't-as it turned out-ready to go.

Those three years after that one night was a long extended sabbatical of shedding skin. Layer after layer, my head slowly rose from the dark cave it was festering in and with it came an evaluation of self. It wasn't all pretty but it wasn't all that terrible either. Friendships, relationships, personal beliefs all transformed into new light. I saw things like I had never seen before and suddenly I became, metaphorically speaking, one of those people who could hear for the first time after years of silence. The sounds were terrifying and intimidating and brutal but they were also inspiring and beautiful and worth listening too.   

I had my breaking moment and awoke from it with a whole new set of priorities. Things that once mattered didn't as much. Battles and war wounds, they weren't worth it anymore. Settling and surrendering to compromise was out of the question and my value became my most important tool in my survival. Understanding that the dark side needed me more than I needed it, made the split less complicated on every level. I was free and I still am. Life's burdens are meant to be spiteful and crude. It wouldn't be called a burden otherwise. Going through it, sucks! But, coming out of it is one courageous feet and we should all be proud that we did. Our past makes us who we are. It solidifies our dreams and hopes and it makes us come up versus falling down. It humbles us and breaks us but most importantly, it creates us. I told my very last story about that night last night and before going to bed I realized that I needed that night not to define me but to help me get a clearer perspective on life and all its beautiful disasters.

And now, it's time to let go of that night.

It served its purpose and I learned more than I ever could have asked for from that evening and the journey that came after. It no longer needs to be the cross I bare-just a place I can go visit whenever I need a reminder of how far I've come.

Another Year Older. Another Year Wiser.

"After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child, and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure… that you really are strong, and you really do have worth." 
Veronica A. Shoffstall

Every year around my birthday, I get reflective. It wasn't long ago that life had made me so completely sad and disconnected. It wasn't that long ago that I felt that my heart was sour and so was I. The struggle was real and it had finally gotten the best of me. That night I fought hard. I won but when I came to, I knew the climb back up would be harder than anything I had ever tried before. And it was. Living. Surviving. Existing. Those things were much harder than giving up. Giving up was the easy way out and I had never done anything the easy way, so I certainly didn't need to start with that. I can talk about it openly because I will never, ever, go back to where I once was. Lost. Lonely. Disappointed in myself. So every year since then I look back. I reflect. And I come to terms with myself once more, and truth be told, every year since that day those terms have become more and more beautiful.

Now, I know I'm not where my idealistic 15 year old girl self  wanted me to be but I'm not that far from it. To be fair, my 15 year old self-who listened to Riot Girl music and had dreams to take over the world- hadn't seen nor done what my soon to be 35 year old self has. I've grown. I've raised my head from the insecurities from whence it came. I've been gutted. I've been reconditioned and I've been kicked off my pestilential-only to rebuild my inner kingdom once more. Most importantly, I've learned that "company doesn't mean security." People. Experiences. Life. It all connects and merges and becomes part of the roots for our personal journey's. However, that journey is ever changing and never permanently placed in one spot. To truly be set free, to truly know yourself and your worth, sometimes means you truly have to let go.

You see, I've never been a traditionalist. I never pictured my life to be mapped out in a conventional way. Then again, my life never gave me that luxury. My father left when I was young, my mother worked often, and I never felt like I belonged much of anywhere except for my bedroom. I wasn't a hermit by any means. I had friends and a social life but I was a weird kid. I knew that. Other people knew that. Still, I could stand on my own two feet, root for the underdog because I myself was an underdog and still be okay. I knew I would have to work harder and be more patient than others but living with adversity in my life made me exactly who I am....and not to rally for my own campaign but I wish there were more people like me in the world. It might be a little nicer. I still feel blessed everyday that I have what I have and am where I am. Despite my younger self getting on me from time to time.

Recently, I went on a ladies trip with a few of my most wonderful girlfriends. It had been at least a year since I had seen some of them and even longer for the others. It was beautiful to be around my tribe again because like all things, life had taken us in all different directions. That trip was exactly what we needed. Sure, there were some hairy moments but what do you expect with five strong women fumbling over a game of "follow the leader." Overall, we all came out of it cherishing the precise reasons why we were all sisters in the first place. What made me feel the greatest joy was recognizing how my friend's responded to my new chapter in life. I could see their happiness, I could feel their pride, I could hear their support. For once, I knew what I was doing was right and all those decisions that led to that moment had been the right ones, even if the outcome wasn't-the path I was on was the correct one. Finally, the one person who had their shit the least together all those years seemed to have it all sorted out. It had been a long time coming and still an evolving sentiment but a true and thankful gesture to what has come into fruition.

I don't have the typical life and I'm okay with that because my life suits me just fine. My creative side is being fed, my heart is being nurtured, and my soul is allowed growth. Some may have a hard time accepting my life as it is and I get that. Believe me, I get that. It took me years to come to terms with it myself but I can best explain it as this: the unknown is always scary but with uncertainty comes relinquishing control and there is something both nourishing and vulnerable for the soul in that. Risks and challenges test your ability to mold and morph into any situation. So I have been molded and morphed into just about any scenario. Some call it survival but I call it, "finally living." This also means that fate is now dictating life. Not lists. Not obligations. Fate. And, take it from me, fate can be both very beautiful and educating. Fate can also be surprising. Some of my worst mistakes have been my most beautiful disasters. For instance, I didn't have the usual college experience or the standard childhood for that matter but I wouldn't change either because any derailment in that life wouldn't have led me here to this one. It would had led me down a different course...with a whole new set of rules and familiar faces.

I've lived many lives...we all have.

I've seen what society has killed for, died for, and slaved for and coming to terms with, "That ain't for me!" was a tough pill to swallow. How could I not want the 9-5, the house, the kids, the marriage, the cookie cutter life that society had shoved down my throat since I can remember. Like if I did anything else that strayed from that path, I wouldn't be good enough? I had a hard enough time fighting my own self-esteem that I didn't need society's view making it worse. So, I stopped listening altogether. I stopped listening to society and quit school with one year left. My degree had absolutely nothing to do with my passions or what I wanted to do with me life. My job was making me jaded and my home was no longer home, just a place where people stayed. I stopped saying I couldn't and I told society the same. I was the only one who was going to determine my happiness, which meant I was in charge of it. This process wasn't easy. In it, I lost "friends" and "accepting" my life as is. Which in all brutal honesty, should have been happened sooner. Timing; however, is everything and I chalk this up to me just not being ready.

It took turning 33 for that.

So, here I am. Living a happily non-traditional life. My life is full of love and light and I know my woes and worries are just that. Everything will work out. I don't have kids yet and I'm not married but it took me this long to find a partner to finally make those types of plans with. I may have quit college but I started late anyhow and at least now I'm finally studying what I love. As for my job, well I guess now is a better time than ever to explain my fields. I work for a small psychic line and I'm a female grower. Both fell into my lap like fate manifesting opportunities. It was only a year ago that both my partner and I had a discussion about what we wanted out of life and here we are a now-doing exactly what we said we wanted to do.

Growing old has it's perks. I am finally comfortable in my own skin. I am finally happy to be where I'm at. It was a long and hard journey, but worth every painstaking step. My callous feet and wounded heart healed over time. Letting go let me shed layers of years piled up. Negative habits, negative thoughts, and negative Nancy's-all had their claws deep within my veins. Breaking free from that set me free from that and I think my 15 year old, "I'm going to take over the world," self  would be proud of that.
 
She would say, "That's the old story. Go write a new tale. You're the author and your veil is off and your broken moment taught you that broken can be beautiful and empowering. This book is still unwritten and your just at the beginning. It still needs a middle and it still needs an end, and it still needs you to tell it."

Wild Women Disorder

"I hear music that comes out of need, out of grief, sorrow, suffering and out of overcoming these things, as well. That journey to freedom still goes on today. It's an incremental change, the culmination of many events in your own life and the lives of your children and grandchildren."

Kathleen Battle

It's been almost year since I left my sleepy north Florida town for the mountains of Colorado and every day I wake up never regretting that decision. I am exactly where I need to be. For a while, my life was this adventurous-sometimes gutting-exploration of self. It was up. It was down. Hell, it was also sideways. Back then, most days consisted of angry thoughts and a bad attitude but that was the most beautiful brutal part. Then something in me changed. I turned 33 and begun to stop feeling feeling shitty and I began to start living. I cleansed my soul, my heart, and my protective space around me. This wasn't an easy feet. In the process of lifting the veil, my head simultaneously started to raise, giving me the ability to finally see my surroundings.

This experience came with heartbreak and letting go. I shed feelings, friends, ideas, lovers...I shed all things negative, starting with energy and pretty much any layer that needed to go. It was a new journey and a new path and since everything prior to that hadn't worked out for me...it didn't seem like a bad idea to go along. The rabbit luring me out of the rabbit hole knew that with time, I would make it to the tea party. I did everything my soul needed me to do. Fed it-Check! Loved it-Check! Listened to it-Check! Nurtured it-Check! Check! Check!

They say once you come out of something really horrible, you begin to appreciate things in a whole new light. That was exactly how it worked for me. The things I compromised on, I could no longer suffice. The things I accepted in other people, I could no longer swallow. The things I never believed for myself, I finally did. Some may call it maturity...I just call it experience but whatever you call it, it sure became my catalyst. Here's the thing, once you see the light, you never again want to waste time fumbling for a candle. At 33, I finally started listening to my intuition and boy did my guts have so much to say. Do this. Follow that. Be here, now!
My guts were exploding with advice and one by one, I took it. Like many woman, my guts had been silenced. I, like others, had hushed them in order to save face. The funny thing is though, the only face I wasn't saving was the most important-my own.

I don't know at what point we all stop listening. Is it childhood? Is it in college? Is it when we, women, experience our first taste of adulthood? I'm not sure but what I am sure about is how much silencing my intuition hindered my growth instead of helping it. Women are constantly in a state of motion. With that, we are in a constant state of evolution of compartmentalization. Yes, I know men get marginalized and I'm sorry about that. I truly am. However, this is a female run blog that touches on female issues-our sacred space. Believe me, men have more than enough sacred space in the world that my blog can be spared.

Leaving my quiet, little progressive town taught me a few things. 1) I needed to leave. 2) That tiny bubble of free thinking and progressive morals only possessed there in that city-the rest of the world, not so much. 3) I had to move out of that bubble in order to recognize this. Now, I'm the raging feminist of the group instead of being just one of the many belonging to that tribe. It's okay, really. I don't mind. However, I do get exhausted with the soap box routine. Round these parts: a strong woman (mind, body and soul) equates to a feminist. Fine with me, I'll wear that badge with honor. Just one thing, I need my tribe with me.

Moving means everything changes. Nothing, no matter how hard you try will stay the same. Not that this is a bad thing because I am a firm believer that with growth and experience comes education and survival. See the above few paragraphs. In the midst of needing growth, experience, education, and survival, I met another woman who was part of the same tribe I was. She, like me, was a strong, smart, and talented creature. We swapped old war stories of heartbreak and confusion...then out of nowhere, I looked down to see a tattoo on her legged that said, "WWD." Hmmmm.....what could those letters mean? It was too short for a Jesus acronym and she didn't seem like the type of person who was into wrestling or tattooing the latest hashtag so I was curious. What I found out was they stood for Wild Woman Disorder and according to her, every woman was entitled to this tattoo. All women from all walks of life deserved this tattoo because like it, we all had a wild woman waiting to get out.  

And, just like that I became a Wild Woman. I didn't get a tattoo on my skin to prove it instead it was tattooed into my brain. I was a Wild Woman. I didn't need a partner to fill me up, I didn't need a job to create me. I didn't need a family to complete me. I just needed me and of course my tribe. Before this, I never really knew what being a Wild Woman meant, I assumed it was its equivalence to "one of those dirty women you only read about." I never knew it meant so much more and something so entirely different until I became one myself. I was strong, had been through hell and back, found my own voice and my own skin. I was a woman-feminine, spiritual, intuitive, untamed, smart, and any other descriptive adjective you want to throw in there. I was all of it and I didn't see myself changing anytime soon.

We all belong to the same group of kindred tribeswomen of the feminine. However we got here or however long it took us to get here, doesn't matter. We are here now and that's what's important. No one is excluded at anytime and you can come and go as you please. It's a unique sisterhood that I feel blessed to have discovered. I am still discovering and Goddess willing, I won't stop discovering until my body leaves this Earthly plane for new existence. For now though, my tribe...my wild womanliness...my soul...is all part of the wheel that makes me run. I'm stronger than I ever could have imagined and taking that veil off to see, surprised many but mostly shocked the hell out of me.  

I CUNT Hear You.

“Any woman who chooses to behave like a full human being should be warned that the armies of the status quo will treat her as something of a dirty joke . . . She will need her sisterhood.”
― Gloria Steinem

I've never been one to just idly stand by while horrible things unravel around me. I usually speak up or try to solve the situation. That's me and it will never change. A few days ago, I witnessed, what I felt were wrongdoings via a friend's Facebook page. I thought, maybe once again, I could talk some sense into these ladies. Truth be told, I thought more highly of my friend, so, her actions, at best were completely shocking. She, as a grown woman, used Facebook as her platform to attack and bully another adult woman. We are all now in our mid-30's. 

Prior to this attack, I just so happened to have had a conversation with my partner concerning women and how vicious they can be to one another. He and I compared the differences of male interactions versus female interactions and I particularly pointed out these two women and how they were with each other as well as a lot of other women in their social circles. My partner and I came to the conclusion that when men fight, they fight and that's it. If it even gets to that point. Nothing more. Nothing less. They get angry and they get over it. They don't drag it out, they don't use social media as their guise for bravery, and they don't act catty. They face what's bothering them and move on.

Needles to say, when I pointed out the error of my friend's ways, she didn't take it well. So much so that her response to me went like this: words, words, words, JUDGY CUNT, then more words. I was taken aback because, up until then, our friendship involved great communication skills. Even when we disagreed, which we did about many things, we still respected each other. We still heard the others side and, most importantly, we never resorted to name calling or insulting one another to get our point across. Until now. Did I think I was over stepping my boundary by speaking up? The thought had crossed my mind but I assumed, since she was using a public forum to express herself; I could use the same forum to respond. 

In retrospect, it definitely was not a safe assumption on my part. After she reacted the way she did, I realized that the best thing for me to do was to eliminate myself from that conversation and her life. At 34, I'm too old to hang onto anyone who can't respect me or other people.

And, just like that, with the click of a button, our friendship and interactions were no more. Click. Move on. Done.

Which brings me to this, when did this type of behavior become acceptable? At what point in our lives did we decide this is how we, from now on, are going to act and treat people. At what time did we all decide that social media would become our backbone? Now, it's not the first time I have been called a cunt and I'm almost certain it won't be the last. This word seems to be everyone's go-to catch phrase to really drive whatever point there is to be made, home. However, I can't recall the last time a grown woman has called me that. I mean, I've been called a bitch, a witch, a feminist, not feminist enough, a whore, a slut, and so on and so forth so I'm used to the ignorance of name calling but that still doesn't mean it doesn't effect me. I'm not trying to give the word power but in this context-it has all the power. 

I write a blog about women for women. It's a collection of stories gathered from women of all different ages and experiences. It's a community that prides itself on creating a space where women thrive and survive. Some of the stories are of loss and struggle while others are about strength and gain. Regardless as to what the story is about, the overall goal is to make women feel empowered, validated, and important. So it pains me when outside those blog walls is a world that is anything but empowering for women.

Of course this "new" display of "I am woman, hear me roar!" has caused me to back up and ask, "When did we become the volatile group of human beings - women - we have become?  Why do we seem to enjoy bashing each other as women, and, even worse, flourish in another's pain? I have to ask myself, as well, at this age, what's truly important and what would I do differently? Surely, my energy is better spent elsewhere. As my nephew would say, "So, Gina, what did you take away from this experience." The answer: take what I learned and use it in the future to help me to be ONLY THE WOMAN I will be proud of in the end. There's a lesson here. For all of us. 

the hokey pokey

"If we don't change, then we don't grow. If we don't grow, then we aren't living." Gale Sheehy

I'm a survivor. I'm a survivor. I'm a survivor....repeat...I AM A FUCKING SURVIVOR. A warrior who goes to battle knowing she won't come out unscathed. It's okay though-the scars are my stories and they have quite the tale to tell. Do not feel sorry or sad or melancholy about it all. I don't and there is very little that I regret. I know, in the end, some pay it forward manifesto will linger itself my way-close enough to grab.

This is the hard part. Living. Figuring it all out. Not giving up. And still doing it with a smile on my face and optimistic point of view. It will all work out. It will all work out. It will all work....repeat...IT WILL ALL FUCKING WORK OUT. Sometimes though I struggle with all the uncertainty. I give up then all hell will break loose and so....I'm banking on not loosing my shit long enough to get my shit together. The thing is....I've been getting my shit together long enough so now it's time to do something about the life I want to live! As my mother says, "Shit or get off the pot."

That statement has new meaning. I  mean it's simple yet to the point. Shit or get on the pot. Everyday I try to make the best of a strange situation. AT 34, I never pictured my life this way: in transient limbo. Then again, I don't remember how I pictured my life. Deep down though I always knew it would be different. Different isn't a bad thing per say but it isn't exactly crystal clear either. The things I have always wanted have been consistent-those have never changed. The path to get there; however, has been a real prick of a drive sometimes. Frankly, that little asshole owes me an explanation. For instance, that crappy map made out of sticks and slashes isn't exactly what I had in mind when I asked where should I go? Truly, it can't all be happenstance-some of it has to be some kind of cosmic force that just wants to test me and make sure I never get too comfortable. Too comfortable is too easy and God forbid life be easy.

I guess that's what it's all about. You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out, you put your right foot in and pray to God your left foot isn't being gnawed off by some 100th time "lesson" you needed to learn. In the grand scheme of things: I have my health, a solid partner, and determination. I know myself more than I have ever before and I have never had this much direction. In hindsight, I know-many times it was me gnawing my own foot off. The thing is, HOPE never stays silent (I saw that on a tee shirt once). It is loud and in your face. It has demands and expectations and goals that it needs to achieve. Simple or complex, it all stems from the same line of thinking...work hard, stay focused and believe that life's constant tests make you stronger, more appreciative, and less willing to walk away from wise decisions. Hope gives you a reason to get up in the morning and continue on-despite all the bullshit.

So that's what I am doing. It's the reason behind why I am here. Why I packed my whole old life in order to start a new one and it's the reason I decided chasing dreams meant more to me than conforming. It's a risk and sometimes doesn't always pan out the way you wanted it to but it will work out....it will most definitely work out as it should.

un native

"Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed to to try just one more time. "
Thomas Edison


At 34, I'm back at slinging tables. Truth be told, I kinda missed this line of work. I like staying active and being active and the thought of staring at a computer, behind a segregated cubicle, makes my stomach turn. Sure, waiting on people isn't what I want to do for the rest of my life but for now it's paying the bills and giving me a little wiggle room in addition too. All in all, I'm making the best of my situation.

This blog is all about thriving and surviving and sometimes that means not doing exactly what you want to do. Yeah, I'm not thrilled about waiting on people but I don't mind it either. I mean, I wish I was rich and didn't have to worry about money but I want to write books and create things for a living but those require more investment then I have right now so until the money tree pops off in the mountain top called my backyard-serving will have to do.

Before this, I worked in a women's clinic and a women's domestic abuse shelter. Just like I took a long break from serving, I saw myself needing to take a long break from this line of work as well. It's serious business. Some days would be back to back clinic and shelter. Shelter and clinic and back again. It is very true: a job can both be very rewarding and mentally draining at the same time. Another honest point, since we are being so honest-I was over my whole Gainesville existence in general. Maybe I was having an early life crisis? I'm not sure. The only thing I was sure of is by the end of my life there I was ready for my life here. Really ready.

Work is something I do not what I am and so going back to temporarily serve isn't that big of a deal to me. Like I said, I missed the hustle and bustle of it all. I have the freedom to do what I want for the most part and I'm excited about that. I have never been so free or felt so free. I mean, I'm really going after the things I want out of life.

          To get where you're going, you gotta start somewhere.

I still have my stresses and worries. But I know, if I keep going, keep trying-I will come out exactly where I need to. On top of my own happy plot in life. Living has never been so liberating. I have never been so free to explore and create and I have never been so rallied on by such great support systems. I have also never been this curious about life. My partner calls it being whimsical-I call it, being thirsty.

I'm adjusting to mountain life, Colorado, and couplehood quite well. In fact, they all fit like a perfect sweater. In Gainesville...the metaphorical sweater....so to speak was either too small, too big, or just not hipster enough. Or it was being worn by someone else who criticized the sweater to begin with. I'm becoming quite native for being un native....

I know a happy life takes time. I know I will marry the man I am with. I know we will have our own treehouse cabin in the mountains. I know that I will do with my life what I have always said since I was a little girl I would do, and I know that I don't know when it will all take place but I'm getting prepared and ready and accountable and that's exactly what I need to be doing.