Let It Be

This has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write, and the struggle over the last few months has been more than real. I’ve started writing and rewriting this a dozen times. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to make sense of the things I was feeling. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide from my emotions, from my pain…I wanted to run away. Sometimes I felt nothing at all, and that was even more troubling. So here I am, soul bared, trying to find words that do justice to one of the great loves of my life. I imagine this will be disjointed, and more than a little sad. Wish me luck.

On January 12th I lost my mother.

I have never known a love like my mother’s; it was unconditional, deeper and more expansive than the entirety of space. My mother was the embodiment of love. Love personified.

When I was at the end of my rope, questioning everything I was and everything I knew, just a few words from my mom would make the world right side up again. She was selfless and supportive, and there will never be another like her.

My mother taught me to be unapologetically myself; strong and confident. I firmly believe she encouraged that in me because she wanted me to be all of the things she imagined that she was not. And though she was never much of an adventurer, she lived a life of meaning and purpose.

Mom and I had always been close. She was my best friend, and though distance separated us, she was never far from my thoughts. We spoke almost daily since departing from California, my home state. One of my favorite activities was to call her on my long drives to, and from work. We’d talk about everything from music to literature, politics to everyday life. My mother was one of my greatest joys and I miss her voice (and her beautiful laughter) every second of every day.

Becoming a parent at nineteen brought more challenges than I care to admit…being a single parent even more so. Throughout my struggle I was so blessed to have such a phenomenally supportive woman in my corner. My mom helped me every step of the way, and allowed me to keep (most of) my sanity intact. I could not have raised my son successfully without her guidance and strength. My son was…spirited. Some would say difficult, others would also say difficult (lol), my mother always said he was perfect. She was forever saying things like “when they’re the worst is when they need love the most”…and since he was regularly the worst, I loved him with every ounce of my being, parented to the best of my ability, and hoped for the best. My son would not be the man he is today without that guidance, and without the unconditional love only a Grammy could provide. She never ceased telling me how proud she was of Tristan, or how proud she was of me for raising such a stellar human being. He would not be who he is, without her.

I would not be who I am, without her.

She was my heart. She was my strength. She was my rock.

She is now my angel.

I love you, mom. I miss you. God help me, I miss you. I promise to always make you proud, and live my life to the fullest, filling it with love, laughter, good food, great times, and a zillion perfect memories…for both of us. ❤️


Good Good Things

As 2017 comes to a close I am reminded of the last days of 2015…I was blissfully unaware that I was miserable, locked in a loveless marriage, woefully unprepared for my then-husband leaving me, and certainly less than ready for the litany of strangeness and upheaval that was to come in 2016.

And yet here I am: living across the country, watching my beautiful son attend his last year of high school, busting my ass for a job I believe in, and becoming the family I’ve always wanted.

Lots of ups and more than my fair share of downs have accompanied the last two years. But through it all (with the help of my family, and friends who have become family) I survived, clawing my way back from the brink on more than one occasion. Knowing what I’ve survived gives me the courage to fight daily for what matters most.

My life has become distinctly mine. Gone are the days of complacency, and stagnation. Each and every morning has become a gift, and I refuse to waste such things.

The world might be a giant mess, but my little corner is bright and joyous.

Happy Holidays from my family to yours.

Oh, and Happy New Year! 🍾✨❤️

When You Wish Upon A Star

Sometimes I have dreams.  Normal people dreams.  Dreams of simplicity.  Of domesticity.  

Living a comfortable existence.  Laughter and love are plentiful.  We talk of things: current events, literature, politics, philosophy, and a myriad of topics known only to those involved.  Holding hands, a touch on the shoulder, a light kiss.  We entertain in sync, our hospitality flawless, and lighthearted.  Everyone is well taken care of, all are jubilant.  It is the holiday season after all.  

The smell of Christmas time fills the air, as carols play over portable speakers.  Cookies are well baked, and delectable pies are available on every kitchen surface.  The cocktails flow, and each guest feels charmed, as plenty of attention is paid.  

This is my joy.  Just being with you, and enjoying those we love.  Such lovely thoughts.  These are my dreams.  My simple wish.  My humble prayer.  

I’m Not Down

I am anxious.

Questions abound that remain unanswered.  Words halted by mouths too afraid to hear answers.  

I push them down.  

Breathe in and out.  Create meditative spaces that enhance patience, and develop understanding.

I unravel momentarily.

As things remain in stasis, I am visited by the ghosts of relationships past.  The liars, the cheaters, the thieves.  The patterns of hurt and worry burst forth, smothering me…restricting my airways, and causing the ever-present feeling of drowning.  

I am stronger than anxiety.

Panic attacks cannot subdue me.  Tears do not choke me.  I am bigger and badder than the melancholy of a suspended heart.  Today I want to transcend fear.  Transcend self-doubt.  Transcend the emotional wounds.  Transcend any and all things that hold me back.  

I want to breathe easy knowing that things are simple and uncomplicated.  That the paradigm has shifted, and I can quiet my raucous mind.  Others may have failed you.  But if you’ll allow me, I will show you what it is to truly have a partner in all things.  Just you and I.  Equals.  

I cannot promise much.  All I have is the potential for adventures, laughter, deep conversations, political discourse, a shared passion for music, physical compatibility, and all of the love and support a person could ever ask for. 

Take a chance on me.  


Long Black Veil

Had my faith sorely tested, and my trust in people shattered.  Someone who at one time I would’ve entrusted with my life, wound up being just as big of a liar and a fraud as every other man I’ve had the misfortune of being attached to.  It’s a blow to my psyche, and a worrisome chipping away of my only happy memories of 2016.  

A man I had thought myself in love with (at one time), who proclaimed he’d give me the world, and never ceased telling me that I was the most beautiful woman in existence, turned out to be a lying sleazebag of epic proportions.  

Playing two women at the same time.  Telling one he loved her, while romancing another.  Continually talking to one after securing another in a “monogamous” fashion.  Sexualizing one, while actually sleeping with another.  

I was cheated on…he was cheated on…and now it’s he who has become that which he so despised.  I’m disgusted and dissolutioned.  

I talked about him as though he were noble and kind.  I excused his bad behavior because I thought it all came from a place of goodness, of necessity, of caring.  I wrote as though the sun rose and set with him…because at the time, it did.  Turns out he did not deserve any such praise, nor any forgiveness from me.  

He always said he wanted me to be angry at him, to rail against him for what he did to me.  I could never bring myself to be upset with him.  I’d felt that he was justified in his actions and above reproach.  It.  Was.  All.  Lies.  It was never anything but lies.  

Now I’m angry.  

Now I’m hurt.

Now I’m done.

Luckily, that’s what you always wanted.  

So here’s a big-beer-and-music-drenched “FUCK YOU” from me.  I hope you choke on it.  

Bottomless Seas 

**I wrote this post after a vacation with one of my closest friends.  Honestly, I thought it had been deleted accidentally, so it was never posted.  Super excited to find it again.  Enjoy.**

I woke up this morning, still feeling the waves beneath me.  And though I know I remain on dry land, the rhythm of the sea still dwells deep within.  I’ve always been transfixed by the soft white caps that make up the ocean’s waves.  There’s something about it that speaks to the soul in a language that only exists in movement.  The ebb and flow a deep breath in and out of the waters great, proverbial lungs…its beauty immeasurable.

Standing on rocky shores, I embraced you.  I stared into your great expanse and came back changed.  I touched your edges and you touched my soul.  We danced together on sandy beaches beneath a bright and tropical sun.  It was a time I will not soon forget.

The wind was at our backs, propelling us ever forward, urging us onward toward adventure.  We tasted exotic foods, drank to our heart’s content, and experienced some of life’s great moments.  Every instance forever etched in our memories.

Within your waves, my heart dwells.  Inside my mind, your calm exists.  We are one, you and I.  Uncharted, with depths undiscovered.  I will carry you with me always.

Until we meet again. ❤️

We Close Our Eyes

Imagine a woman. 

She struggles.  She fights.  She climbs from dark depths.  She breathes fire and moves mountains. When she sleeps the world blurs and fades away, because all life lives within her.  She is strength personified.  She is that which you are, and all that you are not.  She is a cleansing rain.  She is resilience.  She is woman.  She is you.  She is me.

I have lived a life of adversity.  I have wrestled with demons, and spoken with angels.  In my time on this earth, I have done my damndest to breathe life into my surroundings, support those whom I love, and shape myself into the person I am today.  I fail more than I succeed, but not trying is never an option.  

My ideology is this: Take joy in the little things.  Appreciate always.  Live to be grateful.  Share your truths.  Be better.  Help those less fortunate.  Participate.  Let go of negativity.  Be confident in yourself, and your abilities.  Laugh…loudly and often.  Intellectualize and theorize with abandon.  Take chances.  Be kind.  

I say these things with no judgement, no negative intent…I am no more evolved than you, merely self-actualized.  We are that which we choose to be.  Your only limitations being the breadth of your vast imagination.  So have your dreams, be your dreams, live your dreams.  

And never, ever let life pass you by.


Time Bomb

Last night was one of the worst I’ve ever experienced.  From beginning to end it was a nonstop parade of shit, and even now in the glaring light of day, I am unable to escape its events.

A man pretending to be my lyft driver tried to sexually assault me.  I will spare you the gory details, since reliving such atrocities is difficult for both me and my reader.  Just know that he’s nursing some wounds today…he picked the wrong woman to mess with.  I haven’t fought like that in some time, and today my body is reminding me of just that very fact.  I haven’t stopped shaking.  

On my way home, I was visibly shaken from the horrid turn my night had taken.  I was around twenty-five minutes from home, when a car pulled in front of me and slammed on its brakes.   I rear-ended said car.  I’ve had this happen once before, in the early 2000’s…it’s a way to commit insurance fraud.  I hit them, I’m at fault.  No way to fight it.  I’m just screwed.  Now, 12+ hours later my car won’t start, and I don’t know what to do.  

Lately my stress levels have been through the roof.  I’ve been coping as well as can be expected, but things just haven’t been going my way.  I don’t feel equipped to process any of this.  Part of me wants to retreat into silence and nurse my wounds, part of me wants to fight through the pain (mental, physical, emotional), and part of me wants to simply give up and break down.

Not entirely sure of what I should do.  I feel really lost, and unbelievably alone.  

Happy Mother’s Day to me.

Sweet For Sorrow

I’m exhausted.

As of late I’ve been unable to rest or relax.  My shoulders are tight, and my back is a jumble of knots getting more gnarled by the day.  My head aches, and my body quickly follows suit.  Depression and anxiety are my constant companions, and the worst part about that is: life is good.  

I have no complaints about my existence currently.  My home has become a refuge that speaks to me, and it gives me comfort.  Work is fulfilling, and the people I work with…inspiring.  Planning a trip home to California to visit family and friends has allowed me to feel excitement and anticipation.  There’s no reason whatsoever for this immense onslaught of debilitating yuckiness.  

So why do I feel this way?

Unfortunately for those who suffer from chemical imbalance, there doesn’t have to be a reason.  The constant misfire and synapse reuptake issues in the brain make for the most annoying grab bag of mental misfortune.  All of this manifests itself both physically and mentally.  My heartache can turn into body ache in the blink of an eye, and the after effects are painfully long term.  

This is why I’m so tired.  This is why I’m unable to sleep and feel rested.  This is why I wake up feeling miserable.  This is why I don’t want to talk.  This is my proverbial fetal position.  

Cognitively I know that life is good.  Rationally I can look out my window and know that what I’m seeing is beautiful.  I am self-aware enough to know when I’m in the midst of a depressive episode, and cognizant enough to know that this too shall pass.  I simply have to wait it out.  Keep struggling for that silver lining I know is just beyond the horizon.  

I am stronger than mental illness.


I’m Shipping Up To Boston (Blood & Whiskey)

May those who love us, love us;

And for those who don’t love us,

May God turn their hearts;

And if He doesn’t turn their hearts,

May He turn their ankles, 

So we will know them by their limping!

-Irish Blessing

Love is a funny thing.  Love takes you places you never thought you’d go; and down rabbit holes you’d never dare venture into otherwise.  Love is the blindfold that we wear in front of the firing squad.  Love is the pillow we smother ourselves with.  Love is a burden I’d rather not bear.  

Humans are such squishy, sentimental creatures, baring their souls to the masses daily (I, myself included).  Taking a hard look inward, I’ve noticed that I’m a disgustingly emotional hooman bean.  I cry at movies.  I keep mementos of times long since gone.  I occasionally write blogs about romance, and retreat deep into my psyche when love songs are heard.  I’m a sad grown-up version of my 15 year old self…and I abhor it.

I thought things would be different in my 30’s.  I figured by now I’d be married, or in a committed relationship with someone who gets me, and living the life I’m “supposed to”.  But honestly, I want nothing to do with that anymore.  Not saying that I never will again, but for now the thought is simply unappealing.  When you’ve got a face in your mind, and you’re unable to conjure said person, it makes dreaming again far more difficult.  A heart can only take so much.

Having a romantic soul is the epitome of masochism.  You dream, you hope, you lose, and then you wake up one day and do it all over again.  We’re such ridiculous creatures, unable to let go of the things that hurt us most.  Unwilling to change that which is intristic to our being.  We just don’t know how to let go…nor do we want to.  It’s a catch-22 of bullshit and never-ending disappointment.  

So, on this St Patrick’s Day weekend, I wish you luck, because love is nothing but a pain in the ass.  🍀