The day finally came...

This blog is to introduce you to what my blogs will typically be about. Those things that have happened in my life that I have learned to live with or overcome.

This is it. This is what happened. This is how I feel. This is why I am who I am and why I do what I do. This is what I have struggled with. This is what I have overcome. This is raw and uncensored. This is me from the inside out no longer hiding my feelings or worried about what others might think or even say. This is as real as it gets and I am putting it in black-and-white.

I have been still and quiet but I have also been extremely loud. I have been overbearing but I have also been a gift. I have been lied to, cheated on and emotionally abused. I have been hurt, thrown away and physically abused. I have been physically and mentally ill with scars that will never fade. I also admit that I have caused and created some of the very same things that I suffered from.

This blog is not intended to hurt anyone’s feelings, although it might. This blog is not intended to make anyone angry, although it might. This blog is not intended for gossipers and hypocrites to have something else to talk about, although it might. What it is intended for is to validate my healing; the way I heal; the way I overcome and the way I forgive so I can love with all of my being and stay happy.

.... The day finally came when I was able to see myself as God sees me… I am worthy, I am beautiful, I am loved, I am forgiven, but most of all I am His!!

”For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”. Jeremiah 29:11

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The Proposal

Thursday, February 16, 2023, will be a night forever stuck in my head. It had been cold that day; the aches and pains of fibromyalgia and arthritis had been tormenting me all day. I couldn’t wait to get home and curl up in front of a fire and do nothing for the rest of the evening. Kevin, my boyfriend, had come by the shop to get his haircut that afternoon. He told me he bought me a new pistol because he didn’t like the one I had. It was an old Charter Arms .38. The trigger was a little stubborn, for sure and the site was certainly off. I consider myself to be a little “sideways“ most of the time anyways, so if the pistol was a little off, no big deal but good thing I never had to use it! I was just super impressed that he was concerned enough about me and my safety to even purchase something that significant for me. After all, we had only been dating just over 10 months. I arrived to his house about 6:30 PM. He greeted me and led me to the kitchen where my surprise awaited me. He was ...

Running on Empty (and my husband’s last nerve)

One factual thing about me … I never look at the gas gauge. The only time I think of putting gas in my vehicle is when the gas light and alert goes off. That’s exactly what it’s there for … Just like the alarm clock or timer; a reminder that it’s time to do whatever it is that it needs to be done. When we go somewhere together, my husband is always asking if there’s gas in my car. (He should rightfully ask, knowing that there’s probably not). He’s warned me numerous times that one day it’s gonna happen; one day I’m gonna ride those fumes home and I’m not gonna have enough time to stop and get gas on the way to my next destination. One day. So there I was, on a Saturday afternoon, cruising along, singing at top of lungs, arm out the window, bobbing my head back and forth to some questionable 80s pop, completely oblivious to the fact that my car was running on fumes and good intentions. My destination? The nail parlor, about 12 miles away. Suddenly, I felt a sputt...

Row 7

You know that sinking feeling? The one where you emerge from a store, laden with bags (or, in my case, five sugar-fueled grandchildren), and you stare out at a sea of identical metal boxes, none of them yours? Yeah, that was my personal hell for years. My superpower, (one of them, at least), was forgetting where I parked the nanosecond I step away from my car. The true turning point, was quite a few years ago when my grandchildren forever cemented my reputation as "Nana Who Loses the Car," happened at Walmart. Imagine: five small humans, each with their own unique brand of post-shopping fatigue and a desperate need to pee, nap or eat, wandering aimlessly with me through acres of asphalt. We looked like a lost expedition, complete with complaints echoing off the distant fluorescent lights. "Nana, is it that one? No, that's not our white one!" "Are we ever going to find it?" The shame, people, the sheer, unadulterated shame. We eventually located my hu...

Boldly Unbroken

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