THE STRUGGLE...

For many years I struggled with depression and anxiety. I harbored a lot of anger, bitterness and resentment. There were so many things that I could not let go of. I had buried that pain so deep inside of me and refused to let it show. It was a BEAST.

Because of this I was nearly always offended by what people said and did.

I failed to realize that my bitterness, resentment and anger was a reflection of myself and not anyone else. It was bad…

For years I blamed my parents, childhood issues, ex-husbands and failed marriages for how I felt. Thinking about all of that, there was one common denominator. ME.

I played a part in each of those things… whether it was an issue I could control or not, a decision or choice that was made for me or on my behalf or something I voluntarily participated in… I had a large role in it.

At the time I couldn’t see it and certainly did not want to believe it. So I prayed about it. I asked the Lord to take my blinders off to help me see, learn and grow who I was in Him. He showed me his grace and mercy. I needed forgiveness of everything harbored inside of me.

In order for me to have peace and contentment in my life I also needed to forgive the people that hurt me the worst… not for them though, but for myself.

The hardest thing for me to do was to humble myself to pray for blessings over the ones that had hurt me so bad. I had to do it though. God expects me to forgive others if I expect to be forgiven. There is no way around it.

Since the days of praying daily blessings and forgiveness in my heart those that hurt me the worse, I have seen many blessings in return. In little ways and in big.

My heart doesn’t hurt like it used to. I no longer hold on to the things that once hurt me. While I still struggle with life… I don’t struggle with depression and anxiety.

The thing is… they were never mine to hold on to in the first place. I chose those burdens, myself.

Anger, bitterness and resentment are all part of my past. I have learned, though it has taken many years, how to overcome those things .....

From now on, I choose differently. I choose to never look back so it it will never happen again. I choose joy, peace and love. I choose to be happy.

Comments

Mirrored; the Healing in the Hair

Mirrored; the Healing in the Hair. Behind the Chair, Through the Fire: Why We Never Walk Away Most people see a hair appointment as a luxury—a routine hour of pampering. But for those of us behind the chair, that chair is a sacred space, and the appointment book is a lifeline. I’ve spent my career navigating a whirlwind of personal trauma that would have leveled most. I’ve survived a fire and a flood. I’ve endured the terror of domestic violence and the fight of my life against cancer. I’ve navigated the complex grief of losing my children’s father and the transitions of three marriages. Through every surgery, every tear, and every disaster, there was one constant: I showed up for my clients. The Silent Toll : A Body in Service. What my clients don't always see is the physical price of that commitment. In this industry, we are our own health hazards. I have stood behind that chair while battling the widespread, invisible fires of fibromyalgia and arthritis. I’ve work...

✨ The Rooms That Remember✨

I have stood through many winters, but Christmas has always been my favorite season—because that’s when I came alive. I remember the 1970s first, when the walls were young and so were you. Three sisters, one brother, Mom, Dad, and Grandmother—all of you packed inside me like laughter in a gift box waiting to burst open. You didn’t have much, not in the way the world measures things, but my floors never felt poor. They felt rich with excitement. On Christmas Eve you children would run circles around me, whispering plans to catch Santa Claus in the act. I watched you wiggle in your blankets, wide-eyed, too excited to sleep. I could almost feel your heartbeat in the quiet hours before dawn. And then—morning. Daylight barely breaking through the curtains before little footsteps raced across my boards. Stockings filled with candy and fruit, gifts being ripped open, squeals of joy bouncing off my walls. Wrapping paper flying, giggles echoing, the smell of breakfast drifting in from the kitch...

Where Time Softens Edges

There’s something about the way time softens edges. When she was younger, she was a loud storm. Strong opinions, sharp words, decisions that didn’t always make sense to the child standing beneath her. I learned to defend myself, to brace myself, to bend, to push back and create my own way of being far from the places I didn’t want her to fit. And somewhere in all of that… distance grew. Not always loud. Not always obvious. But there. Then time did what it always does. It kept moving. The hands that should’ve supported me —now reach for support. The voice that carried authority carries anxiety and grief instead. And the roles begin to blur in a quiet, almost sacred way. Because here’s the truth no one prepares you for: You don’t take care of your parents because they got everything right. You take care of them because they were part of your beginning. Because love isn’t always neat. It doesn’t require agreement or a perfect past. Our past is now history. Sometimes love is simply showing...

Boldly Unbroken

Search This Blog