Skip to main content

The Real Me ....

By


I know I have screwed up as a wife, a mother, a daughter and as a friend because I don't always say or do the "right things". 

I have a smart mouth. I can be loud. I have secrets. I have scars because I have a history. 

Some people love me, some don’t.  Most people  have an opinion of me.

I have done good in my life. I have done bad in my life. I go without makeup in public. I wear ball caps and t-shirts. I don't dress up for the most part and sometimes I don’t even want to get dressed at all.

I am random, outspoken and I can be silly. I will not pretend to be someone I am not. I am a fighter and will stand my ground for something I truly believe in or something I feel strongly about.

I am broken to a point, but unbroken as I have healed from things that have caused me pain. 

If I love you, I will do it with my whole heart, mind, soul and being because that’s just the way I love and the way I want to be loved back and I will make no apologies for the way I am. 

There are a lot of things I am not… but one thing I certainly am is loyal. TO. THE.  CORE. 

If I were anyone but me, I would want someone just like me in my corner. 

Someone to bring their strengths to my weaknesses. Someone to share secrets with. Someone to love unconditionally. Someone to pick me up when I’m down. Someone to laugh and cry with. Someone to stand by me regardless of my faults. Someone to help hold me accountable for doing what is right. Someone to be a positive influence in negative times.  

I am perfectly imperfect but I am 100% all of those things and a lot more.  I have been 54 years in the making ... Here I am!! This is the real me. 

Comments

  1. VickieMarch 9, 2020 at 9:17 AM

    You be you. I love you and always think of you as the strong one. I've never been perfect ,I'm still learning myself at 51 ,NO.. 52 this week. Lol..I've done alot of bad but also good. If we haven't made mistakes how would we grow? mental and spiritual growth comes from accual living, making mistakes and learning to let go. I'm proud of you and you have been through alot and still rise above. Yes you be you.♥️

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mirrored; the Healing in the Hair

By
  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...
1 comment
Read more

✨ The Rooms That Remember✨

By
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...
Post a Comment
Read more

Where Time Softens Edges

By
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...
Post a Comment
Read more