Mirror, Mirror On My Wall.

This week my friend shared in a Facebook update that her young daughter had voiced her personal concerns about her image and my friend didn't know how to react because she herself deeply struggles with her own set of image challenges.  It broke my heart to read the string of comments from fellow moms who have been thrown in to the same conversations with their young kids and hastily reminded me of the love-hate relationship I have with the mirror on my wall on a daily basis.

This blog is a three-fold initiative and one of the main topics is women's empowerment.  What brought me to that point?  The need I saw and felt for a real, raw, perfectly imperfect, curvy woman speaking up and standing at the front of the line for kindness and confidence in a sea of photo-shopped, fake and superficial. Does that mean that I have all the confidence and self-assurance that I am just fine the way I am?  Hell. No.  In fact, I had to stop MYSELF from the nitpick self talk when I saw myself in a bathing suit in a mirror at the local hot springs last week.  My brain is my own toughest critic.  I often wish there was a magic wand that my fairy godmother could sprinkle pixie dust on my forehead and I would see myself as others see me and as God sees me.  But, alas, that is not real, however, we can do so much to strengthen our self-confidence, self-esteem and self-love.  The best part is that as we do that we are happier and we become examples to others to do the same.  I want to share some of the feedback I received when I posed the question, "what would you say if this was your daughter?" To protect the individuals, I will keep all comments anonymous.  The comments come from a wide variety of women with differing religions, ages, professional backgrounds, some are mothers, some are not.  They are beautiful and strengthened me in my on-going quest for self-love.

• Tell her she is beautiful every day. Don't say "you look beautiful," but "you are beautiful." And also amazing, smart, strong, funny, kind, sweet, etc. Never comment on body. Ever. Even 'good' comments.

• Ask the why...why do you feel this way? Has someone said something? You know, God made you to his perfection and that is what really matters. Everyone has flaws or something they don't like about themselves but it's how God sees you. God made you this way for a reason. He loves the way you look and you should too!

• Focus on acknowledging the painful emotions that accompany - joining with her in sharing my own experiences of feeling " not good enough"

• Part of helping the problem is understanding where she is hating herself. If she isn't liking how big she is, instead of saying she needs to go on a diet, exercise with her and start eating healthy with her. Maybe find some good roll models that aren't fake (like pro female sports players) and let her see how not everyone is fake. Also help her understand that most people in magazines are photo-shopped.

• It's also important that this is something that our boys face too.

• First of all, I commend that little girl for being able to open up about her insecurities. Definitely nothing wrong with that. I just kept my insecurities bottled up as a child and I should have been more open with them. I would tell your friend to THANK her daughter for bringing up these insecurities. Her being open about them is a step in the right direction. If she were my daughter, I would tell her not to care what society thinks of her. Those idiots don't matter. What IS considered ideal? Is it even that desirable? Do you want to live the kind of lifestyle that comes with it? Girls who are "perfect" probably aren't as happy as they appear to be. They have problems, just like everybody else. Imperfection equates uniqueness. The people who give you the time of day truly appreciate and embrace your imperfections. They love you for them. I feel blessed to have the friends I do because they know I'm imperfect and insecure, but they don't CARE. They love me just the same. I would say to her, "You do you, hun, because trying to be someone or something else wastes a lot of time that could've been spent discovering yourself and developing your own unique talents." God created you the way he did for a specific reason.

Every single day we have to remember that God created us to be UNIQUE, wonderful, quirky and lovely for a reason. The media creates a standard to sell magazines and advertising. Others speak harshly towards us, about us or about themselves to draw the attention away from their blaring insecurity.  Please, please, please be mindful of how you speak and act around the kids in your life because they DO listen and create their own opinions of themselves before they can even express it.  

I've shared this video before, but I love it so much because it is a very literal and blunt example of how we shape the way our kids think.  #likeagirl is still such a powerful example to me and gives me a constant reminder to be a better example to the kids in my life, but to also live it with myself. 

The moral of the story: Being unique is our super power.  Fly high and save the world in your own special way.  

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Five.

This week marked a big milestone for me. On Thursday, March 17th, St. Patrick's Day, I celebrated my 5 year anniversary since I buttoned up organized therapy.  I ended therapy on St. Patrick's Day on purpose.  I LOVE the holiday (it's that redhead in me) and I always wanted to remember the end with a happy day.  If I was a drinker I would maybe have an extra drink, but alas, I am not, so I had a big fat piece of sinful 7 layer chocolate cake in my princess bed and it was glorious.  

I've written about my experiences in therapy and post therapy a number of times on le blog. There is a lot about the therapy process that is still so wrought with stigmas and misconceptions in the media and I've tried to be as open and honest as I can about the process and what I learned.  There is also a part of my experience that purposely is staying in the past.  It includes the mistakes, the heartaches and the toxic pain that I shed through the help of my amazing therapist.  History remains history and there is just some of it that I don't need or want to talk about.  I know I have a lot of readers who have struggled with the process of therapy and didn't feel like it helped them.  Today I am going to be very real and very honest so that you can see that therapy didn't actually cure me.  Therapy made me a better me so that I could face life differently.  But, it sure as hell did not cure me. 

The first thing I want you to know about therapy: there is absolutely no shame in seeking help.  There is immense value in talking to a third party that you are not emotionally connected with in any way other than the fact that you air your dirty laundry to them and they take notes and offer suggestions for coping.  These brave souls who have chosen the career of mental health specialists are highly educated and wired to take on the analysis of our lives and brains.  God bless them because I couldn't do it.  I know enough about people and their weirdness through my chosen profession, but I don't need to know more.  Much of the shame that we may feel is because our brains are so mucked up with trying to deal that they want us to give up so that the wiring doesn't have to change.  However, just like a well-maintained engine, our brains do so much better when they are oiled and monitored and flushed on a periodic basis and therapy can serve that purpose if we will let it.  

The second thing I want you to know about therapy: it is only as good as how you apply it in your every day life.  I was TERRIFIED to end my time with Jennifer because I knew it meant I had to deal on my own.  It was scary to think about having relationships and facing life challenges after I was done checking in with her.  I made absolutely sure that I was ready to fly on my own, but I also had a long list of things that I kept and still keep close to my heart.  What are my triggers?  Who are my triggers?  What calms me down?  What can I let slide and what do I have to always do when I'm having a tough mental health day?  How do I stop myself from the avalanche of "what ifs" that I'm so good at doing?  Who do I trust implicitly with all the hairy details and who am I on a "need to know, surface only" basis?  The list goes on and on.  More than once I have had to sit myself down and have a mental tune-up to get myself back on track after a big event or boulder fell out of the sky.  2015 anyone?  My most recent therapy post talked about a pair of shoes that reminded me of a terribly awful relationship mistake that I made.  In the post I talked about keeping them as a reminder of what I had accomplished.  I am happy to report, that because of my own blog post and the triggers that I set off (boo to me), I ended up getting rid of those hot polka-dotted vintage inspired pumps because they (a silly pair of shoes) were a trigger and they needed to go.  Talk about a weight lifted when I don't see the lurking reminder in my closet anymore.  

The third thing I want you to know about therapy: you are still going to have hard days.  You're going to have completely shitty, sad, crying, awful, hard-as-hell days.  But, you will also have days when you will think, "wow, pre-therapy me would have crumbled quicker and longer in this scenario than post-therapy me." My knees still get bruised and bloody when I fall and my heart still breaks when a relationship ends or someone dies.  But, how I treat myself and how I work through it compared to pre-therapy is light years different.  I still ache to have a better reality in regards to a couple of things in my life, but I know that gratitude conquers all and with that I relish in what I DO have and let the rest go.  

The fourth thing I want you to know about therapy:  Decide that you will not settle for any type of treatment or abuse that will put you right back to where you were pre-therapy. THIS takes practice and a whole hell of a lot of effort. I'm still finding out little quirks and nuances that I thought were fully addressed are, in fact, still a raging issue if I'm not careful. I've had some conversations with my friends that have recently divorced when I asked them, "what went wrong on both sides and how will you improve yourself the next time?" There are a lot of people, myself included, who have a hard time admitting they were wrong and at fault and that they need to use their picker with more prudence next time. If your surroundings need to change for your therapy to stick, then move.  Have the faith to do it.  If you need to have a sitter to watch your kids so you can go to the gym, then MAKE IT HAPPEN and go to the gym.  If you need friends who don't encourage you to drink like a crazy person or use drugs, then bravely cut them off and find new friends.  If you need to have a date night and some good loving calendared with your sweetheart then write it on the damn calendar and do it!  Remember how I said therapy is only as good as you apply it to your daily life?  Well it is.  Trust me.  Don't spend all that money, time and effort and expect no change necessary.  That is a LIE.  Change is the point.  Change is the healer.  

The fifth thing I want you to know about therapy: You can go back.  Jennifer called them booster visits and I've had a few.  The funny part about mine was that we usually chuckled together because I knew what I needed to do and was well on my way to the right path.  Going to see her for a booster visit was mostly for validation that I was, in fact, coping like a boss without her.  I've kept in contact with her and will send her a periodic email from time-to-time just to solidify that I'm doing well and that she's still there.  I've referred a lot of friends to her. When it came time to leave Utah, I promise you that I had a conscious thought process that included "what if I ever need to go see Jennifer? Will this next home be close enough that I could do that?"  The answer is yes, but I'm confident that I probably won't need to use that lifeline because I am using her advice every day as best I can.  

I am grateful for this milestone.  It has not been an easy 5 years.  Holy hell, at times, it has been everything but easy. I've felt a lot of anger and hate, but I've also learned to deeply, truly love others and myself and I know that my choice to give organized therapy a shot is the reason why.  Don't give up on yourself. Talk to someone who can help you trudge through your sorrow and confusion.

The moral of the story: Breathe. Trust. Love. Have faith in the timing AND the process.  And most of all work.  Work very very hard to be your best you in spite of your imperfections.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

Love Is Transforming.

In case my nephews' view on love wasn't enough, I'm gifting you with the next installment of what love means, courtesy of my friend's preschool students.  I was DYING as she shared them with me and had to change up the order of sharing musings from other kiddos because these were just too funny to share after the conspiracy holiday.  Before you wet your pants laughing, please remember that we really should just take what 3 year-olds say and apply it to life and be done.

"Love is like a transformer toy. It's fun and then it's not. But if you pretend to be a transformer then that's really fun." Love is SO transforming.  Some days it can make you so damn crazy that you want to cry and other days it carries you through the heaviest burdens and trials and brings insurmountable amounts of happiness. And some days it's just so chill and you look at the person across the room and laugh because they are your lobster (Friends reference) and they are weird and you love it. Some of the greatest examples of transforming love have been my friends who have walked side-by-side with a spouse during a health crisis or some other life rattling event. This fall my dear friend lost her husband to cancer and it was one of the most inspiring and heartbreaking things to watch as she loved him to his very last breath and STILL continues to love and remember him as she raises their three incredible kids who are so much like their daddy.  Love is transforming when imperfections take over and a couple has to strip their pride to decide if they can and want to make their relationship work or give up.  Love is transforming when two people want nothing more than to have a baby and that is not what God has in mind and they have to fight in the trenches of infertility treatments and/or adoption together. The transforming power of love means that you face life together with grit, compassion and faith.

"I think love is for hipsters, spaghettioes, and my mom because they're all weird." Spaghettioes are WAY weird.  Is it a starch, is it meat, does it make me glad that the zombie apocalypse hasn't happened yet and that's all we have to eat? Who really knows, but I concur that love is weird....and some hipsters are dang weird and wear pants that are too tight, but a lot of them are pretty endearing. Many of the endearing kind live in Ogden, my former 'hood, and I heart them. And what about moms?  They are so totally weird, but most of us are weird just like 'em and are too chicken to admit it. Don't tell my mom that I might be one of them.  

"Play dates are super exhausting. You think they like you, but they really just want to play. BORING!" At this point in the conversation, I would have switched in to the sweet, loving feminist in the room and say, "sweetie, ladies don't got no time for the playas. Either they like ya or they don't." Boring wouldn't be my choice of adjective as much as blasted frustrating. I too find play dates exhausting and I'm a grown up. I saw a meme on Pinterest this week about women not wanting to waste time playing and that we just want to get down to business and date. Yep.  Cut the crap and put the word commitment back in your vocab selection and let's do this. Otherwise, stroll on back to high school and play those man child games with your besties. We deserve the best, whether we are male or female, and the games are BORING. Let's be real, let's be raw and let's LOVE!

"I had a movie date."
"That's exciting, what did you watch?"
"I don't remember, I was more sad he didn't notice my lip gloss and eye pretties." Boys. What oddly handsome and necessary creatures. How many of us have dated someone and in the midst of dating we bought new shoes, a pretty dress or actually DID our hair and he didn't notice and we were pissed?  The transformation of love sometimes means that we have to bring those little things that matter to their attention in the form of a bullet point list with the most important at the top.  And if the most important is "I wore red hooker shoes, put on mascara and lip gloss for you so you better notice" then make sure they know it. I'm no expert on dealing with men, but one of the things I've learned from working with a lot of them over the years is they respond better to less fluff and more bullet points. Super romantical, right?

 "Miss A, I love you a whole lot."
"I love you too!"
"Like as much as to the sun and back. Although you might die at the sun, so I can't love you anymore." Damn the boundaries. What are boundaries you ask? Well, if you have to ask me then you go to that corner and I will stay in this corner and go on loving at a level I can....you know the kind where I don't burn up and DIE. I'll admit that it's challenging to put boundaries on certain relationships because we may love too much.  How do we define loving too much?  Loving someone who doesn't love us back as much as we love them just isn't fair. It's sucky, but we deserve better. We so totally deserve to love on the moon and not burn up.  Hashtag: put that on a pillow.  

And so it goes, the humans of a 3 year-old variety have their crap together on love and we should listen up.

The moral of the story: Love changes us, but shouldn't burn us. It calls for a lot of grit and laughter and perhaps some strolling to a real date in our pretty red shoes and it's totally worth it when they're our lobster.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

Love Is Happy.

Is it just me or is February the other F word for a few of you? I can't say that I particularly enjoy it myself for an extensive list of reasons that starts with winter is stupid and the 14th is that 1st quarter conspiracy holiday.  Now, don't get me wrong, I can't get enough of pink and red, roses, hand dipped chocolates and boxes of conversation hearts that bust my teeth, but it gets old pretending like the oozing blah blah blah is fun and that I should expect all those gifts listed above on THAT day more than any OTHER day.  So let's muse for a minute.

I've often brought up the subject of love on le bloggy blog. I've talked about how those three little words are some of the hardest words for some people to say audibly.  I've also talked about loving ourselves and taking care of our needs in the midst of hard times. But, I haven't really talked about it from the perspective of the profoundest love experts around and those are the little people. Have you ever had the chance to sit at a table of 5 year olds and listen to their version of life and living and loving? Compelling stuff. I had the chance to learn a whole lotta something while I was doing service in the Land o' Kindergarten in Utah. So, that got me thinking; what would the little people say about love?  And more specifically, what would MY little loves aka my ruffian, goofy nephews tell me that love meant to them?  What emerged was some of the sweetest, cutest and totally hysterical responses and I hearted all of them.  So, what's their opinion on this important matter?  Well....read on and find out.

Love is huggin' and kissin' according to all of them in their exact words.  It was a unanimous decision that love means you hug and you kiss. I can work with this! And I concur!  The huggin' and the kissin' is AWESOME when you love someone. Sometimes you have a little more huggin' than kissin' and it's OK. Hugs all around as far as I'm concerned and smoochies (S family dialect for mauling with kisses) for those we care about most or brothers who we want to embarrass the hell out of with a sloppy wet one on the cheek when he least expects it.

Love is happy.  And then the aunt's heart melted because their cute little faces said love is happy almost in unison.  Love IS happy! I am not a unicorns and rainbow blogger and going to fill you with the crap that love is EASY. Love takes a LOT of work and sometimes, as nephew #3 so eloquently chimed in, love is sad. Sending your love to heaven is super duper sad. Tough love is way sad. Tough love is not fun, especially when you have to walk away from someone because they are sucking the life out of you and making you bat shit cray. But!  Love IS happy and when the laughter, joy and trust is present, the happiness overflows.  I will also submit to you that if you are in a situation that you THINK is love and you are constantly sad, please get help and/or get out.  Please evaluate the root of your sadness and have the courage to make a change. That change may include some tough love of walking away, but I know you can do it!

Love is to be kind. I openly admit that my oldest nephew melts my heart with his tenderness and attention to the well-being of others. I didn't say he's my favorite, but he is so so much like my side of the family, specifically my dad, in that he truly cares and LOVES everyone. He remembers people's names and their life stories and he wants to know about everything. It made me smile that his version of love was to be kind. Amen and amen, my love. There is entirely too much hate in this world and it boils my blood when people are bullies and bigots because someone is different than they are. What the hell, people? Did you not learn the song, "Jesus Said Love Everyone?" Oh wait....that's a Mormon thing....scratch that. That song is a real thing and the title is just as the song goes. We need to love EVERYONE. I've been on a NetFlix binge the last couple of weeks that somehow roped in a lot of WWII movies. I'm fascinated by the history of that war, but I've watched a lot of movies that portrayed the other side of the war, namely the extreme racism and hate for groups of people that was completely unjustified. We can show infinite amounts of love just by smiling at a stranger and saying thank you to someone who least expects it. Kindness does not mean bravado, nor does it mean a marriage proposal.  Gasp..... We are all fighting a fight within our souls, play nice in the sandbox of life would ya?

Love is giving them a card and toys.  As the video interview continued they got progressively more silly. Surprised?  3 boys under the age of 6 being silly?  What?  No way.  My sister-in-law managed to catch nephew #2 saying that love meant buying them a card and toys. Ha! I love it. Definitely an answer from a kiddo, but let's be honest, I love handwritten cards so very much and if toys translates to Tiffany's then I'm SO IN!  However, I kind of wish that I could still construct a gaudy, yet super creative valentine box and have people put the itty bitty cheesy valentines in it. In fact, I would so love if a future sweetheart did just that on good old V Day.  He might win more points than some fancy pants dinner that requires I wear pants and make-up.....we can do that any day. Future Mr. @beYOUdesignsUT is still incognito, but I really appreciate it when someone is thoughtful enough to send me a handwritten note of any kind.  A sentimental old school hippie.  That's me.  I really do want peace and love....and pizza....oh wait....wrong topic....squirrel!

I hope that each and every one of us can find much to be happy about when the topic of love comes up in conversation and all over the media during the F month. No wearing black and a veil on February 14th, but you don't necessarily have to bust out your cupid get-up either. Love because you get to love. Love like it is a gift because it is a gift. Love can be your sunshine on a cloudy, cranky ass moody day. And if you still can't find anything to smile about just remember this.....the nephews' parting words on what love meant to them were this.... "love is lots of spanks."  Cue the giggling.  You're welcome.

The moral of the story: Love is the breath of life and the greatest test of life. Follow your heart; it will never ever let you down.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

The Atlas of Love.

In life it is either feast or famine for me.  I'm a hopeless cause for balance some days and sometimes I just throw all care and worry to the wind and tell myself "it could be worse, I could be a dangerous addict of some kind."  Might sound a bit harsh, but I find it rather amusing (most days).  In the last year I have read more books than I have in the last 5 years.  College fried my brain and my love for reading and it has taken me this long (10+years) to recover and find my reading bug again.  While I was exiting my last career, the stress was SO HIGH.  I would come home at night and want to crawl in a ball and cry, but knew that wasn't always the answer.  I started to see some great book recommendations on Instagram and Facebook and started to read again on my iPad.  I'm a big dork about reading and if it makes my eyes hurt or I can't see the words, I won't do it. **old lady status** The beauty of my iPad is a bright, back light that means I can read in my bed, in the dark.  Perfection.  The last two books I read have been actual hard-copy books, but only because of a random chain of events, including a new light bulb in my lamp.....don't ask.....  The first book I am going to save for a 2nd edition of Beachy Reads & Sunshine Dreams, but the second gets its own post.  Read on, my lovelies!

Do you ever walk into the dollar store and stroll past the books and wonder if it's all crap or if there might be something worth reading hiding in the pile that will only cost you a buck?  On occasion I do, and the last time this happened was when in Idaho visiting my Jo bestie.  She was picking up a few items at the dollar store and the books were in the front of the store...bonus!  I started to dig through them and this book popped out at me.  As you know from my post about Sarah Boucher's book, "Becoming Beauty", I am a sucker for a pretty cover.  I shout praises to authors who have publishers with art departments that know what their doing with cover art.  I mean, I'm only one person, but I take the cover in to serious consideration when deciding whether or not to read a book. 

The front of the book says the following, "This story of women's friendships and redefining 'family' flows with lovely writing."  I could end my review right now because the person who said it was spot on.  But, I'm not!  

There were five themes in this book that I want to briefly address.  They are: friendship, faith, fear, family and love.  

Friendship:  The Atlas of Love is centered around the friendship of 3 graduate students in Seattle.  Talk about three different personalities and family structures too.  The reader quickly realizes that opposites do attract and these three girls are miraculously besties because they are SO different.  The biggest irony of this book is that one of the main characters is Mormon and she's kind of a weirdo.  I can say that because I was raised Mormon and I could tell that the author was very well-versed in her quirky Mormon.  Still so funny, but probably more so because I could relate to it better and have known LOTS of women over the years very similar to this character....let's just leave it there.  The entire premise of this book is friendship through thick, thin, sad, happy, angry and repeat over and over.  

Faith:  As I said earlier, there is a blatant reference to faith because of the Mormon main character, but she does not dominate the faith discussion.  Throughout the book, there is much deliberation about faith in life, faith in God, faith in humanity and faith in what is meant to happen.  Who can relate to that more often than you care to admit?  **pick me, pick me**

Fear:  This book involves a baby.  It involves a baby that is a BIG surprise and thus enters a boat load of fear from numerous characters.  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you didn't see coming?  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you DID see coming?  That's the toughie for me personally.  Knowing that the end is inevitable because the writing is on the wall so you brace yourself for the impact.  Fear of the future presents itself in numerous forms throughout the book as they deal with an unexpected pregnancy, some broken loves, balancing life and the mourning and coping that goes along with it.  

Family: As I quoted above, the book talks about redefining family.  Without giving too much away (ok, I'll give away as much is on the back cover), these three girls take on the raising of the baby boy who is named Atlas.  They affectionately call it tri-parenting and it sort of works.  They are all insanely busy graduate students so they make the decision that the only way this little boy can have a relatively normal life, given the circumstances, is for them to commit to be mothers together.  It really is a heartwarming and delightful concept in theory, but they soon find that the mamma bear a.k.a. she who cooked and birthed said child is still the final say in all decisions made about Atlas.  One of the things that really touched my heart was the passion that came from the two friends who weren't the biological mothers, but dedicated their lives as if they were his mother.  In addition to their commitment to this little boy, their families also committed to being adoptive grandparents and everything that accompanied these roles.  I related well because I am the proud adoptive aunt of lots of little people who I fiercely love as much as my biological nephews and niece.  Motherhood hasn't been my adventure yet and I am so grateful for the little humans who call me Auntie Ray who aren't biological, but who I love like they were from day one.  

Love: The backbone of any great story is love and this is no exception.  Love is kind, love is selfless, love is patient and love is tough.  And when I say tough, I mean both kinds--the enduring and the challenging.  I know from personal experience that the more deeply we love the more deeply we hurt.  It seriously sucks when it doesn't go in our favor, but it is also the most rewarding and beautiful gift to have in life.  My heart runneth over when I see the beautiful, giggly faces of my nephews and niece via FaceTime and even more so when I get barrel-hugged (a real word) when I see them in person.  The human heart and soul has infinite capacity to love if we will let it.  I will be the first to admit that I am one who can easily put my heart in the deep freeze and let it sit on ice for an indefinite time, but I don't like how it makes me feel.  I want to love and be loved, thus I take risks and embrace my ability to feel the way I feel and live life as it comes.  

The quote above is near the end of the book and it really inspired me.  Not too long ago I referenced "The End" really meaning "The Beginning" and I think this quote attests to that as well.  When we have loved then we can come to the close of a moment and begin the next set of amazing moments.  Love is our focus.  Love can and will continue to reclaim us if we will let it.  And just as this quote says there will be anger AND love, with hefty helpings of both, but love will always win.  I will say it again....love will win if we LET it.  Anger is hella toxic and it can eat you alive and burn your insides if you let it.  Take the time to let friendship, faith, family and love heal your heart because when love is in the air, the next chapter is about to begin.  

The moral of the story:  All you need is love.  The Fab Four knew what they were talking about.  Trust it and let it reclaim you.  

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Three words.

I have had serious mental block as of late and it's been challenging trying to decide what to write about for my next post. I read a beautiful update on Facebook this week that was written by an associate who is in the rebirth stage following an extremely painful divorce. It brought tears to my eyes as I read her very raw, poignant reflections of love lost, yet strength gained. And that got me thinking. . . Let's talk about three words.

I LOVE YOU.

For such a short sentence it sure is hard to spit it out at times. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where my parents always said, "love you" to close their phone conversations. As a result, it is very natural for me to end phone calls with the same sentiments. However, I am very cautious as to who I hand it out to face to face. For some reason, when it comes out of our mouth it suddenly means something. Like we better damn well mean it. Uh ya!! Then why is it so hard to put down our guard and admit the truth? The f word. ... Not THAT f word... The OTHER one... FEAR. Damn that vixen called fear. A ruthless monster on all accounts. I have had a couple of relationships that I knew we were to the point that I was ready to say it and almost did, but held back. And those three words sat in the back of my throat like a fat brick blocking my voice chakra. I have wondered if it would have gone differently had I said, "wonderful amazing man of mine, I love you. I love your quirks, I love your messy hair, I love your kind heart and I love your crazy heart. Please say you love me back." It's doubtful that it would have turned out differently but it still breaks my heart a little bit. What makes me afraid to be rejected when I know that my love runs deep? When I commit and attach my heart strings to that of another, I am in it. In it for the long haul. But, here's the issue. They are not. Their insecurities and inability to bare their soul is not there. It sucks. Sucks so bad it makes me ill to write of it. But, I must. What can we do to bridge the gap between, "I can't muster up the courage to bear my soul" and "please don't ever go away, I love and adore you more than words can describe." I wish I knew. 

I also want to address the idea that one must birth a human in order to bond with it. I know, switching gears, but for me it is related. The older I get the more likely it is that I will love a man with children. It is also possible that my ability to birth my own children may not happen. I don't know, but all I know is this...a child does NOT have to rent my uterus for 9 months for me to love it like my own. In fact, I welcome the opportunity to be a bonus parent because how cool is that to say to  a child, "guess what you are a lucky one. I am your bonus mom!" Hells ya! I would do it in a heartbeat. The longer I live in Ogden, the more I run into kids who I would scoop up and take home and give them a good life and love them like I had carried them for 9 months. One such girl was in my friend's kindergarten class this year. She was too old to be in kindergarten because her family had "forgot" to take her to school when she was supposed to be in the class. She would regularly come to school in dirty, smelly clothes and talk of sleeping in a car instead of a warm bed. Seriously. This stuff kills me. Why? Why? Why? And when I finally got to meet this sweet girl who I had heard so much about I found a beautiful resilient little girl who, at face value, had NO idea that her life was less than ideal. We MUST remember to offer our heart freely when we feel the urge because we never know the power that it will bring to another human. Especially kids. They can't help it that they were conceived in a dumpy situation so we must be aware and allow the love to flow. 

The last point on love that I want to address is probably that which is the most difficult to accept. Love for ourself. Holy hell, why are we our toughest critic? Why must we be the enemy to the face in the mirror? I know of a handful of situations right now where the depression runs deep and the voice in the head of these people is burning their insides one disparaging comment at a time. From my own personal experience I can attest that one of the most fearful times in my life is when I actually heard my inner-self say these things and I couldn't fight back because I believed it. It has taken a lot of work and a lot of prayer to get to a point where I trusted my inner-self so I didn't have to rely on the outer influence to determine my worth. I am NOT defined by my body shape, my boobs size, my family size, the year of my car, the color of my skin, my marital status or how long I've been in a career. I am defined and driven by my relationship with God and my soul. And I mean that. And just because I said it doesn't mean I'm perfect or it's because of this or that. I have to dig deep. REALLY deep. I am sad a lot that I haven't had my babies yet and I'm losing sleep because of politics, not teething and runny noses. But, I know that the love that I feel for those around me is REAL and GENUINE and that I will and am blessed for my goodness.

So.... The moral of the story.... He's out there. He will attach and I will let him.

Until next time my lovelies.

-R