Childhoodtake2!

When relationships, friendships, love, actual love, ends...
it never ever just ends.
There are so many emotions, what ifs, lingering thoughts, feelings, ties.
There are literal ties to the person(s) and your history together.
There are too many emotions, nothing is ever a clean break.

Too many things bring it all back,
like a memory, a song, a drive, or a dream.
There is too much in our past to make it completely go away.
And I have to always ask myself if I want it all to go away.
Because there are times when my memories keep me warm, and you were a part of that.

And when it really ends, closure isn't as easy as it sounds.
The grieving/loss/mourning that needs to happen is relentless.
And then you hope that somehow your heart will fix all the broken, that time will once again make things feel okay.

I go back and forth between
- getting so mad at myself for missing parts of my history
and
- embracing the fact that true love was shared so of course I want to honor the past.

I go back and forth between
- why can't I let you go forever
and
- I never want to lose what you meant to me.

I go back and forth between
- why am I always the only one hanging on
and
- isn't it obvious why?

In a heartbeat, a story and a life can change.
What was once your forever and always can become so painfully a thing of your past.
At least that's how I feel about it.

I often wonder how you will move on from heartbreak.
I can take a guess that one of you will get mad instead of sad, because feeling sad makes you angry.
I can take a guess that the other will crumble and ask all of the questions and second guess your every move.
I can take a guess that one of you won't be treated disrespectfully for even one minute.
I can take a guess that the other will keep holding on hoping it will eventually fix itself.

I hope you both find a middle ground but most importantly, I hope you both feel and understand loss.
It means your heart loved and that's okay.
It means that you allowed your heart to take a chance and that's good.
It means that you did have good/great/memorable times and that is important.
It means that you carried someone close to you and that is necessary.
It hopefully means that you too were loved and that is vital.
It hopefully means you know better for next time and you learned more about yourself, and that is constant.

When it ends littles, nothing is really over forever.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on story.

Our story started as two young moms, with two young kids.
Our story started over family, surviving, and complaining.
Our story started with trepidation, nerves, and some second thoughts.

And then it bloomed and blossomed and what we created was magical.
We created love and wholeness and friendship and need.
We entered each other's lives just as we needed to, or at least, as I needed.
Because I really needed you and your entire family.

So so much so that I let it go, I let a lot of it go.
So so much that I got lost in you.
But I'm not even a little bit upset about that, I wanted so desperately to get lost in you.
I wanted, needed, too much, to have you be a part of my story.
I'm so so sorry I tried that hard.

I lingered.
I stayed too long.
I was too much.
I allowed too much.
I put up with too much too.

And then, just like that, it was over.
Our story was over.
I have been told that it ended also out of need.
I have been told that it ended because it needed to.
I have been told that the way I miss you is normal, and I have been told that it's time to put this all to rest.
I have been told that our story is in the past and I need to move on.
Everyone is right.

But, our story meant something to me and I want you to know that.
I mourned us.
I cried at every single turn.
I still do, at times but it's hitting me less and less now.

I understand it's over...our story is over.
It's in the past, we're a thing of the past.
Our story is a thing of the past.

Good morning joy, it's been a while since I have seen your face.
First thing in the morning, it's been a long long time.
I suddenly noticed you when I felt light, airy, almost a bounce in my step.
I saw you when I was walking Pearl and loving her tail wagging.
I saw you while in the gym and pushing myself hard.
I saw you this morning, when the snow was quietly falling, I noticed the quiet and I breathed you in.
I saw you and I remembered what you felt like.
Good morning joy, welcome back to me.

Good afternoon joy, it's been a while since I have felt you.
Right in the middle of the day.
Working my day, working my work.
It's been so long since I have felt this good about my work and my day and my schedule.
It's been so long since I have felt happy, this happy, this joyful.
I am able to break and be.
I am able to run my day the way I would like to.
I felt you creep in while I wasn't looking.
I felt you take a hold of what was once tired and dread, and I breathed you in, again and again and again.
Good afternoon joy, welcome back to me.

Good evening joy, it's been a while since I have seen you.
At night, when the chaos really begins.
But, there you are. Present when my daughter comes home and fills me in on the funny of her day.
Present when our little guy comes barging through the door and asks to go play.
Present when I take Anna to the gym and get more alone/walking time with Pearl.
Present when we settle into our nightly routines.
Ever present when I'm finishing up on my work and feeling good about the spot I'm in.
Present, there, just fluttering.
Good evening joy, welcome back to me.

And by the time I crawl into bed, it's a different kind of tired.
It's a ready for bed tired vs I want the world to go away tired.
I can read for a bit now, allow my mind to escape, vs I can't even keep my eyes open.
I take a bath to keep the cozy feeling going vs I have to wash the day off of me.
I dream of my life vs the nightmares I was living in.
The stress and anxiety and fear of my world are still present, I can still sense them, but they are once again fuel. No longer a foot standing on my chest and not allowing me to breathe.

My breath is different joy.
My smile is different too.
My thoughts are mine again.
My coffee can be felt.
My mood is yours joy.
My eyes are open again.
My life is okay...I feel okay.

Hello joy, welcome back to me.

"But rushing around seems what's wrong with the world..." DMB

I live a life of doing...striving...full of grit...full of determination...full of goals...and next steps...I always rush.
From one meeting to the next, from one thing to the other, I wore busy like a freaking badge of honor.

Grit, determination, goals, and even stress...those can all be good things.
Until they are not.
Like everything in the world, too much of a good thing is never good and I always crossed a line.
And my biggest complaint was exhaustion but I was unable to sleep. No longer dreaming but living in nightmares.

I was burnt out and I felt like my life had no meaning.
If I wasn't running, what was the point?
I had a goal in mind and I was going to get there, even if it made me a disaster.

And then I gave up a career that defined me and I started something I never imagined I could.
I gave up on what I thought I was always and forever meant for, but what I clearly was loving to death.
Because it was going to be the end of the real me if I stayed much longer.

And then the world stopped spinning and COVID forced us all to stop.
So stop I did.
I stopped rushing and planning and meeting.
I stopped races and racing.
I put a stop to proving I could do hard things. I already know I can so who do I need to prove it to anymore?

And then I figured out how sick I was - how sick I was making myself.
Because it's not normal to cry that much.
It's not normal to have dreams that are war zones.
It's not normal to feel like someone is standing on your chest.
And it's not normal to work that damn hard.
It's also not normal to get the shakes, to forget the most important and the least important things.

And then my father was diagnosed and everything in my life was chaos.
And it was complicated.
And I tried.
And I cried and cried and cried.
And through all of the pain, chaos, dysfunction, complications, and family dynamics, I felt prepared.
I felt as though my heartbeat had finally slowed.
It was no longer racing in my chest, but instead it slowed down even more.

Because I had changed.
I was no longer the woman that was looking to prove herself.
I was showing up for very different reasons.
I was also losing huge parts of me and I was learning who I now was without.

I said goodbye to a career and a definition of who I was.
I said goodbye to people I thought would be my always and forever.
I said goodbye to a man I thought would outlive us all.
I said goodbye to parts of me I was ready to shed.

I put down my fighting gloves.
I lost my venom.
I lost my voice at times.
I lost my desire to stand up for myself a lot.

And I slowed down a lot.
I started to really take notice of the change of seasons.
I listened to my breath on a run.
I took in the colors around me.
I pet and snuggled my dog.
I slept and napped and slept and fell deeper and deeper into sleep.
I ran to hear my feet and feel my lungs push a little bit.
I went all in on a workout and backed off when I realized it was too much - I realized something was too much!
I read before bed now.
I travel a lot.
I walk and walk and walk and walk the dog.
I soak in tubs.
I take crazy hot showers.
I'm with my kids.
My daughter and I talk.
My son and I snuggle.
We have actual time together to just be together.

"Breathing just to breathe
We might find some reason..." - DMB

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on reach.

When I was younger, I reached for things that were not there.
I longed to fill a hole I felt in my heart, so I reached for connection.
And at times, I made up those connections.
I made up the relationships and the meanings and the ties.
Everything always meant a little more to me.

As I got older (and older and older and older) you would think that I would feel more settled.
More in control of relationships.
More filled with love and family I have that I no longer need to fill a void.
No longer making up relationships in my head.
No longer feeling as though I need more because I have all that I need right here.
No longer wanting to reach for what is just not there.

But, that's just not true.
I'm still reaching.
I'm still coming to terms with the fact that parts of my life were made up.
I'm still creating what I need.

For the longest time, I reached for difficult.
For the longest time, I reached and strived to prove myself; prove I can do hard things.
For the longest time, I reached for things that were just not there for me...
love when it was just too complicated,
comfort and ease when it was just too difficult,
joy when it was just too chaotic,
family when it was just not possible.

Because, although all that I love and adore is snuggled under one roof...I still want a little more.
Although I have all that I never thought I wanted, I need to be defined by more than you.
Although I have created my world, my family, and my center, I still need others.
So, I'll keep reaching out.
I'll keep creating.
I'll keep putting the pieces of this life of mine together.

Stop.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on assume.

I assume it was said because you felt comfortable in the room.
I assume that the racism that was so clearly spilling from your being was comfortable for you, especially as others chimed in.
I assume I didn't say anything to contradict because I didn't want to make it uncomfortable.

But now I know, I'm a huge part of the problem.
And once again, I shut down at the wrong moment.
There were many ways I could have handled it:
I could have agreed with you that you are, in fact, being an asshole.
I could have said, I think it's time for me to go.
I could have pointed out that not talking about it and making racist jokes might be part of the problem.
I could have asked you if you've asked a marginalized person their perspective.
I could have asked you how many friends of color your kids actually have.

But I didn't.
I don't assume I'm part of the problem, I absolutely know it.

On holiday it is the reversing of normal habits that does one so much good. - R. C. SHERRIFF

Every vacation dad and I switch personalities.
I become very calm, I don't want to see a schedule, I get up late, I went to spend the entire time sleeping.
I still work, but here and there and just enough to keep up and even that, there is a different feeling about the work.

Dad, on vacation, loves a schedule.
Loves an agenda.
Loves a place to be and things to see.
Loves to get up and out the door early.
We have crowned him AIS...he will leave without us.
Waiting around makes him cringe.
Doing nothing all day, don't even try.

Even when it comes to planning for the trip.
It has been so long since I have planned a single trip or even helped, that I'm not sure I would even know how.
I don't know if I would know how to book a flight or how to navigate traveling.
I am literally along for the ride.
I normally have no idea where we are headed, how we are going to get there, or what we're going to eat, Dad just does it all for us.

And sometimes, I feel so bad. He works so so hard for us to get these trips just right.
But then I also realize how much he really really loves all the planning and going down rabbit holes for years to get it just right.
I do not have that kind of patience.

And as soon as we get there, it's on.
It makes me laugh, every single time, how we become the other person the second vacation starts.
I never understood it.

How does the type A mom that has everything in her life scheduled let go that much?
How does the calm and laid-back dad with no cares in the world suddenly snap to?

And then I saw this little sentence.
This little expression that made me pause.

This February we are away.
We went to a Cuse basketball game.
We're headed to Baltimore and then Philly.
Dad has it all planned out.
The routes to take, the way the car needs to be set up, the places he wants to see, the reservations he has, even the music he wants for his road trip.

At the end of every vacation he always asks, did I do a good job?
Like a little sweetheart asking for praise.
Of course you did sweetie.
You always get it just right.

Thank you Coach. You have given us so many memories.
Although I complain about some of the go-go-go of it all, I also know that if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have been able to do any of this.
Thank you for all of your hours of research.
Thank you for bookkeeping everything as soon as we need to.
Thank you for having us see all of the places and do all of the things.
Thank you for all of your attention and for making sure we book some downtime for me.

Me, I'll just pack my bag, follow you like a little lost puppy, and grab a nap where ever and whenever I can!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on many.

Go.

For many years, I have loved you.
For many many years, I have held you close, and thought of you always.
For many many many many years, I have needed your love right back.
And that need has grown.

For many years, I have been suffocating.
For many many years, I love a little too hard.
For many many many years, I have not listened to those that have felt suffocated.
And that need has to stop.

For many years, I have tried to fill an obvious hole.
For many many years, there has been a gap I have tried to stuff full.
For many many many years, the people I love have felt I am too much.
And that need has to stop.

For many years, I have been so pleased with how I love.
For many many years, I am proud of that, I call it my superpower.
For many many many years, I have been told I expect too much.
And that need has to stop.

I have to find many different ways to love.
I have to find many many different ways to feel loved.
I have to find many many many different ways to stop.

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself. - Emily Dickinson

Hi sweet loves.
There are times in all of our lives in which we go searching.
We find ourselves a little lost.

Sometimes, it's because we don't know if we should stay in a relationship.
Sometimes, it's because we don't know what to do with a career.
Sometimes, it's because of our location and thoughts of moving.
Sometimes, it's because we just feel lost.
So we go searching.

Sometimes, it's because we have to make serious changes.
Sometimes, it's because we have to make decisions that are life-changing.
Sometimes, it's because we don't feel like ourselves and sometimes, it's because we've forgotten who we are.
So we go searching.

In 2023, your mom went searching.
After so much loss in her life, after feeling so off, after feeling so tired, she went searching.

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

I'm trying to figure myself out...again.
I'm trying to find myself...again.
I'm searching for my heart, but afraid to find it because I know there is still pain there.
I'm searching for myself, but afraid to find her because I know she is hurt.

And I have to ask myself if I'm really ready to find her.
Am I ready to pick her up? Am I ready to hold her up?
But I'm tired of feeling so heavy and I'm tired of feeling so off.
I'm tired of feeling and I'm tired of pretending.
So I do have a lot to figure out.

So, throughout your life, you too will go searching, I'm sure of it.
Especially for you Anna, you will find yourself time and time again a little lost.
It sneaks up on you when you don't think it should.
When you're young, when you're old, when you're unsettled, and when you're settled.
And it will happen more times than you can imagine.

For me it happened when I graduated college.
Then multiple times in my career.
Once to leave the city dad and I fell in love in.
Once after the fog fell onto our home and again and again and again.

So, I am out there again, with lanterns, looking for myself.
Trying to shine a light on the darkness all around me.
Trying to see if I can find her, most likely huddled on the ground.
Holding her knees close to her chest.
Most likely crying.
Most likely cold and wishing for a little comfort and warmth.

I'm coming, just look for my lantern and give me a shout, I'll find you soon enough.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on access.

Go.

In this year, things have to be different. I have to be different. I am the common denominator in my chaos and I have to be different. I have to.
Which means I need to provide less access - to me, to my heart, to my energy.
That is so different for me...
...because the honest truth is, I'm suffocating. I suffocate my relationships and I ask and expect too much.
...because the honest truth is, I'm just as much to blame. I am trying to fill a void and that is not fair.
...because the honest truth is, I'm a lot and not everyone can be with me.
...because the honest truth is, I need to take a step back and see who has access to me, and I need to make changes.

All while still being me and having my one and only superpower shine through.
I need to provide less access - and that is so hard for me to figure out, but I need to.

That means I need to realize when and why I am uncomfortable.
I need to find a way to speak up and say that I am.
I need to process...less.
I need to think about it...less.
I need to explain it...less.
I need to speak up...more.
I need to, at the very least, say that we are headed down a hurtful conversation and I need to step out.
I need to do better.
I need to live up to who I am and I need to remind myself that I matter too...I matter.

I need to realize no one is responsible for making me whole.
I need to make myself whole.
I need to find my voice, my love, and my self-respect.
I need to show up much more for me.

I have not been well and I have felt depleted and I have been depleted.
And now I have to do better by doing a little less.