The next phase

It dawned on me today, while sitting in Sunday service no doubt, that we always seem to be looking forward to the next phase in life.  I hear people all the time. "I can't wait to get married." "I can't wait until we have kids." "I can't wait for this baby to be born!" "Oh will I ever sleep through the night again?" "Will the terrible 2's ever end?" "Ugh, I can't wait until he's 4, because apparently the terrible 2's were just a warm up for the terrorist 3's."   We're always looking forward to what's coming next. Do we ever live in the now? 

I'll admit I'm right there with the rest of the world in stressing over the future.  Between work, family, sports, kids, the sig and my ex, there's no shortage of anxiety here.  A few things occurred to me today though. Far sooner than I am ready my youngest won't call for his Nan every time he gets in trouble.  My oldest doesn't use the word "riven room"  anymore.  My 3 year old will soon refuse to kiss me in public. There won't be toys left in the bottom of the bath tub forever.  All this makes me nostalgic.  Those tiny socks will soon turn into full grown sizes, and the cute little puppy love will evolve into full blow heart break.  I'm not ready.  

I miss the days when my sweet girl would ask 100 times a day to watch "the goo goo moo moo."  I would grit my teeth, but now that my sweet angry German wants to watch "the boog"  every single day over and over and over, I let him. I don't say no.  We know every word.  I've learned over time that when the kids ask you to sit down and color with them, you drop everything and color.  They won't ask forever.  There may be years with no crayons in the house, so I smile as I clean out their pockets.  Between the skittles between the couch cushions and matchbox cars lined in the window sill, they each bring a smile and quite frequently with them a misty eye. 

I am excited for what the next step in this life brings, but I am not ready to let go of what's going on now.  Soon enough I'll be meeting the parents of my children's significant others, and my heart will ache for the simple days.  You know, the days when changing pajamas was an accomplishment and brushing your hair was a privilege.  Whew! Who would've thought we'd ever be thankful for 2 hours of sleep, nonconsecutive at that and forgetting to eat all day long, because we were too busy cleaning up after the meals of the little ones?  

Yes, I'm looking forward to the future, but I am not stressing it.  As far as I'm concerned, these are the best years of our lives, and those to come will only be better.  

Tell me a story. ...

We all know someone who has clear commitment issues. I am that friend. I am the one on a prepaid cell plan, because I refuse to sign up for a couple years service. What if I don't like that carrier in a year? What if I want a new phone? I can't do a contract. I am the friend who has a significant other, because the term boyfriend just feels awkward for me. Lord help us if someone refers to him as my husband. 

Where does the allergy to commitment come from? Well, somewhere along the way someone destroyed trust. Someone on the path of life took security away and replaced it with the I'm not sure anymore attitude. Folks look at me crazy, because I have tattoos. Well, my tattoos aren't going to roll over one day and tell me they don't love me.

I am still bent. I'm not broken, because I am capable of trust and love. It's just a little harder to earn these days. I'm not afraid of love. In fact, that's the one addiction I have. Love conquers all right? It may not conquer all, but it heals better than time. 

I am not insecure. I am very comfortable in my skin. That doesn't mean I don't like to hear that I'm beautiful. I am quite confident in who I am. I've faced my demons, and I know my flaws. That doesn't exclude me from wanting to hear why I'm loved. I want to hear these things, because time changes everything. The reason you love me now may not be why you fell originally. The reasons you stay aren't the same as they were last year. Seasons changes. People change. Relationships evolves, and knowing why we're going to make it is an ever revolving door. Priorities, routines and habits all conform over time. 

Remind me why I'm worth it. Tell me about the good old days, and how they've gotten better. Tell me what I need to work on. What drives you crazy? What's irresistible? What turns you on? They say men need to be needed, but women need to be wanted. What makes you want me? 

When I look at the sig I see a handsome, charming, hilarious, sometimes selfish, sexy, romantic. I still get chills when he brushes his hands across my back as he passes by. My heart beats faster when he holds my hand, and my whole day melts away when he pulls me in for a deep embrace. No matter how I feel, I am ok when he holds me. 

On the flip side, I hear every time he doesn't say I love you. I feel the tension when he's upset with me, and it rips me to shreds. I don't sleep if he doesn't hold me. I miss him when he's not here, but after all this time I still smile when his name shows up on my phone. I often wonder what goes thru his mind when he thinks of me. 

Tell me a story.....you know the one where you fell in love with me. Remind me.  I want to hear the way your heart beat in your chest when I appeared. What was it about me that caught your attention?  You tell me yours,  and I'll tell you mine.

Growing up

Getting old really sucks.  I remember my dad would always tell me You can eat anything you want until you turn 25.  Then you're just gonna blow up!  I didn't believe him then, but at the ripe age of 25 I saw the light.  I had never been super skinny, but I was thin... a curvy thin, but thin none the less.  I'd never had a cavity, and for the most part I was relatively healthy.  The worst I'd ever been sick with was the flu or Mono. 

Twenty five hit, and suddenly my metabolism slowed to a screeching hault.  My teeth began to decay, and my hair changed consistency altogether.  I found my first white hair, and yes I said white.  It wasn't gray.  It was electric, ghostly white.  Food allergies began to set in, and the next thing you know, I was allergic to everything from beef to wheat.  My joints started popping, bones were more brittle, and nap time became my favorite activity. 

Age brings so many new things with it, unwanted to say the least.  Hormone imbalances, mood swings, night sweats, sensitive skin, hair loss, etc.  You start losing the hair on your head and suddenly have to shave your toes.  When I was a kid, I'd look at people my age and think gah!  You are so old!! I don't agree anymore.  At 32 years old, I think I am pretty young. I've got so much life left in me, but the body isn't holding up as well as the mind and spirit.  I still want to jump on the trampoline with the kids, play tennis in the backyard, and dive off the highboard.  The kids are still raring to go at 9 pm, and I'm fading by 7.  You hear people say they want the energy of the kids.  I don't.  I just want enough to keep up and the lung capacity to not have a heart attack after a 50 foot dash. 

The hormones bring the mood swings, which in essence causes everyone to take a ride on the emotional roller coaster.  You could be having a wonderful morning, and the slightest issue brings tears rolling down your face like the flood gates of the Hoover Dam just opened.  You find yourself balling over the dishes, because the kids hated whatever gourmet meal you attempted to serve.  When the baby suddenly decides one day that the man who plays cowboys with him is more fun than you, it sends your body into shock.  Next thing you know,  you're irritated at the world.  The family decides to watch a kid movie, and as consistent as gravity the room is staring at you as you're sobbing about a little girl in a Disney film losing her imaginary friend.  You lie awake at night wondering why on earth you can't seem to get it together.  Tomorrow's another day.  I'm not going to freak out and cry. Tomorrow comes and so do the water works... and over something as stupid as the neighbor's cat crapped in your flower bed.  Nobody walks there.  Why is it such a big deal?

You go to the Dr., and what does he say? It's totally normal.  You're almost 35, and it's understandable.  You break down when you explain how you've gained 10 pounds over 3 months.  Well what are you doing to counteract that? he asks.  Everything! Dr. I'm desperate.  I've done everything except exercise! As soon as the words leave your lips, you realize how goofy you sound.  I've done everything except the 50% of the recommended regimend to lose weight! GAH!! Then it hits.  How can I exercise? I don't even have the energy to play a board game!! How on earth am I going to do jumping jacks?! Old age....it's the number one killer on earth. 

When I grow up

I can't wait for the day that I'm old enough to move in with my kids.  I know how that sounds. It sounds insane.  I'm well aware of the insanity in that phrase, but honestly what sweet justice?  I want to be the one running through the house naked right after a bath or staring blankly at the tv after being told we have to leave in 5 minutes with only 1 sock on.  Yep, that sounds awesome to me. 

Better yet, I want to get in their business.  It'll be my turn to ask the crazy questions like What's wrong baby? You're poor? I mean UP IN THEIR BUSINESS!  I want to be the old lady in the grocery store begging my kids to buy EVERYTHING on the shelf... or just sneaking random crap in the cart and pretending to have no clue where it came from later.  I'll ask to borrow money all the time.  I'm going to read their text messages, may even respond to a few.  Mail won't be safe either.  I'll look through their bills and question where their money goes.  The fun part will be asking about their relationships.  Why do y'all fight about that? Why do you like him/her? How come he never buys you flowers?  I don't think he spent enough money on you for Christmas.  You should've planned better for that anniversary. 

Child discipline won't be safe either.  Honey, it's ok.  Granmum will fix it.  We'll go get a cookie.  We won't tell mom and dad you were bad today.  Don't spank him. He's just being a boy.  I never punished you for that.  You're not being fair to that child.  I think you like Bobby better than Suzy.  Oh yea! Boundaries won't exist at all.  They'll have all these long talks with me about how I'm being disrespectful and need to mind my own business.  What are they going to do? Send me to my room?  Put me in a nursing home? Then I'll call home every day and lay the guilt on thick about how I never sent them away when they were being difficult.  I just sucked it up, dealt with it and loved them anyways.  They good news is I have 4 kids, so I can torture them one at a time. 

When we go to Dr. appointments, I'll be the one in the waiting room going on and on about how they NEVER feed me.  At the mall I will complain how they never buy my anything.  My stuff is all so old, and Ugh, you always say no to everything.  TV time will be my time to sit and talk over whatever it is they're wanting to watch.  I will inevitably have to pee everytime someone takes a shower, and when my rear hits the seat it may have a different urge.  I will use all the hot water when I bathe and splash water all over the floor...water I won't clean up.  I may even get out of the bath to pee and leave water all over the toilet seat.  I'm never flushing either.  I will hide my dirty laundry under the bed, and stuff shredded paper behind EVERYTHING. I will make a point to spill every drink I am poured, hate every dinner served, and complain how nothing is ever good enough.  Cleaning will be out of the question.  I'm shoving all the junk into the corner and then begging to go outside to play. 

Speaking of play time... every night it'll be play a game with me. Let's go jump on the trampoline.  I want a popsicle.  I need those skittles!! Of course, I won't ask just once.  Oh no, that wouldn't be fun. I'll beg until they either give in or flip their lid.  I'll stare at them with that why have you gone nuts look the entire time they're yelling.  I may stare off into space occasionally until they get in my face and ask why I'm not listening to them.  And when they've had too much, I'll go tell them how sorry I am. Make them feel like I'm going to change, and then ask for the skittles a few hundred more times. 

The car will be the best place ever.  I will help pump the gas and go extremely slow with it.  Needing something from every gas station is a must, and using the bathroom at every stop will never get old.  The radio station will need to be on what I like to listen to, and I'll roll the windows up and down constantly on a rainy and cold day while kicking the back of their seat.  I will be hungry every time we get in the car and leave half my food under the seats.  Of course, I will require bringing something from home everywhere we go and leave it in the car too. 

When their friends come over, I'm going to share secrets like They were fighting yesterday.  She said she was kicking him out.  They didn't pay the wifi bill on time.  They yell at me all the time.  My room sucks, and my bed is uncomfortable.  Oh the bed!  Yes, in the middle of the night for the first couple months I'm there, I will creep into their room and ask to sleep with them.  When that doesn't work, I'm going to steal their favorite blanket for my bed, because it's just so perfect.  Their favorite pillow will be mine.  I will sit in their favorite spot on the couch when they get up. It's very important that I remember I must poke them every time I need their attention and call their name over and over and over and over and over again.  If they refuse my attention, I will make a point to get right in their face, maybe even grab their cheeks.  Lights will always have to be on in every room, which I will forget to turn off.  I'm not walking the dog. What do I look like? I did my chores for the 100 years I was raising them.  No matter how full the trash is, it'll hold what I need to discard, even if it means throwing it on the floor next to can.  And a trail of candy wrappers will follow me wherever I go. 

I will wait until we're in public to pass gas or burp.  I'll talk about my movements and bodily functions all the time.  I may even question their bodily functions and snicker whenever someone farts.  It'll be the best thing that ever happened.  Coloring on random pages in notebooks will keep me busy at night, and writing funny things in their calendar will be a nice gift they need to find.  The best part of all of this?  They'll love me for it.  They'll sit around complaining to their friends about how annoying I am, but yet I seem to have the sweetest look.  They just can't get rid of me.  They'll miss me when I'm not around, and they will crave my laughter in the silence.  I will be the smiling face they can't wait to see when they get home, and the bad days will be better when I'm there.  I will test their patience at every turn and push them to the very last thread of their rope, but I will reel them back in at the end of the day with my never failing love and affection. 

It's just a bad day

I finally had the meltdown. I've never documented a bad day for me.  I've talked about it afterwards,  but I've never fully explained what I felt leading up to a meltdown.

I am a bottler. I bottle my frustration and stress and irritations up. They're each one like a grain of sand. They flow into the vial one at a time. When it gets close to being full,  each grain is more pressure than it should be, and the final drop is monumentous. When it lands there's a split second,  a fraction in time,  where it appears it'll be OK. It's anything but. The glass begins to crack, and suddenly it just shatters.

I am the person you see walking around pretending to be fine. I push the bothers to the back of my mind and carry them like a ball and chain. None have to be categorized. Each stress is individual,  and possibly unrelated,  but all clumped together in the far corner. If you haven't noticed,  I'm also an avoider. I will avoid the frustration until I no longer can.

When I've had enough,  the emotions can't be silenced. As the sun goes down,  so goes my moral. I slip into despair, and tears flow uncontrollably. I sort through each and every grain of sadness,  anger,  stress, grief, etc. One by one,  I'm forced to deal with them until it's gone. As the last question in my mind is answered,  and the last overwhelming issue sorted through, I slip off to sleep.

The following morning is usually slow. As the sun comes up,  it lifts my spirits with it. A few hours of sunshine,  a cup of Joe, and an internal pep talk later,  the old me returns.

We all have bad days. We all deal with our problems differently. Sometimes I wish I could be that person that can sort them as they come. It's never been that easy for me. I've always let it build. It builds until it over flows, and then the pain runs out in the form of tears. It's just a bad day, and it will pass. I question myself and everything that is me. I wonder if I'm a failure. Am I good mother?  Well I ever have it all together?  The last of questions may or may not be rational,  which is where the pep talk comes in. I have to remind myself to see the path I've traveled. Looking up the mountain is overwhelming until you see how far you've come.

It's just a bad day. There will be others. There will be the days when I cannot see the big picture,  but focus solely on the details. I take them as they come, one day at a time. It's only a bad day. It's not a bad life.

Life is hard, and it isn't fair

Life is hard. It isn't fair. Some people have it made their whole lives,  while others have to fight and struggle for every inch they gain in this world. I am the fighter. We don't all get dealt the same hands, but the years have taught me a few things.

Life has taught me the value of a dollar. There was a time when I was horrible at managing money, and trust me,  I know how to spend it. It took many failures to know how to hold it,  save it,  and make it last. But believe me when I say,  if I squeeze a nickel, I can make 7 pennies fall out. Which brings me to priorities. No one is busy all of the time. You pay rent first, utilities second,  and everything else afterwards. When the kids are present, be present. Priorities are what comes first in your life, and the order in which you put everything tells me everything I need to know about you.

Everyone has a tell when they're lying. I've mastered finding that tell within the first 5 minutes of knowing someone. Whether I call them out or not depends on the lie. Little lies lead to big lies, and I've discovered if someone is comfortable telling a white lie,  they'll get comfortable telling more and trust will be very difficult to maintain. I have also come to believe that trust is the most important ingredient in any relationship. You can marry a perfect stranger and never love them, but you can make it work for 100 years. If you don't trust your partner,  it isn't a question of if you will fail. It's when. And broken trust is 3 times harder to fix than it was too originally earn.

Some people are just toxic. No matter how much you love them,  they're not healthy for you. They may be perfect for someone else,  but not for you. Don't hold that against them.

Forgiveness is not always earned. You must give it anyways, with or without explanation or closure. Your sanity and peace depends on it. Always remember ,the devil wears sheep's clothing. Not all who keep your company are your friends, and we must be careful what we share.

Burning bridges will either light your path or cause you to swim. Keep the bridge until you know which way you're going. Be nice until it's time to be mean,  but never destroy another human.

Broken people are the most difficult to love,  but if they open up and show you the pieces,  don't take that for granted. They love stronger than anyone,  and while it will take them longer to let you in,  it's worth the wait. Don't let this life make you bitter. It will break you. It will wear you down. At least once you'll think you're better off alone. This isn't true. We're built for companionship. Let yourself fall in love, be loved,  and get back up when it's over. Love is the only thing that heals all wounds.

Laughter truly is the best medicine. Marry the one who keeps you laughing.

Everybody leaves. They leave at the worst of times,  when you least expect it,  and when you need them the most. Love the people while you have them. You never know how long their portion of the story is. It may be a sentence or a chapter. Call your parents even though they're going to talk about their feet. They won't be there forever,  and you'll wish you had them to chat with, even if it is about their toenails.

Lastly,  secrets are rarely kept. Skeletons don't like closets,  and gossip is for everybody.

Life is messy. It's not always beautiful, but it is what you make it.

Thinking out loud

I don't normally write about the details going on in my head. I'm much more of a big picture kind of gal and try to find a positive lesson in all that goes on. Lately positivity seems to have escaped me. Even on my worst days, I'm usually great at faking being fine. Today I couldn't. This week I couldn't. Truth is,I haven't been fine in a while.

I'm so tired, and lately nothing I do is good enough. My jokes aren't funny. My playing isn't fun. My presence isn't enjoyable. My touch isn't desirable. I can't seem to get comfortable in my skin, but then again, I can't pinpoint the problem either.

I've been unemployed since August. I was looking to make a change when it was made for me, so the loss wasn't hard to accept. The turn of events following were enough to drive the strongest faith to questions. I lost my home just 10 days after the job, because the 2 were attached. I moved in with a friend and started picking up the pieces.

I've done odd jobs to make ends meet, and thank God for help from people along the way. It doesn't seem to matter how hard I try, it isn't enough. When things begin to fall in line, I've begun to stare at the horizon in search of the storm brewing. I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. I should learn to enjoy the moment, but lightening strikes, and I've found it less painful if I see it.

I worry my heart is hardening. I fear the lack of emotion. I've long believed the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference, and I find myself caring less and less.  Please don't misunderstand, I am not discussing my love life. In general, I've lost interest, and that was abundantly clear this weekend. There I was, sitting on the floor faking having a grand time, and my sweet 3 year old asked "mumum, you sad?" Up until that moment I thought I was doing great, but tears immediately fell. "No" I replied. "Mums just tired. "

I am tired, but sleep won't cure my fatigue. I am so tired of fighting. I'm so tired of feeling torn. It's exhausting forcing a smile everyday. No matter what I plan, it turns to shit. I can't see the fun anymore, and tonight I sit here, tears streaming down my cheeks with no answers.

The deeper I sink the more I push away from others. I can't process how I feel, because I don't know why I feel it. I am not a failure. I work so hard, and I've accomplished so much. I'm not alone. So why am I so lonely? What is wrong with me? Everybody has a bad day. We've all had a bad week, but Jesus. This is gone way too far. What does it take to shake this emptiness?

I want a hug,  but I can't ask for one. If I go and hug someone,  inevitably they let go before it helps. I need to have the meltdown, but I can't. My anxiety is going crazy,  but not during the day. Oh no. My body knows I will not allow myself to fall apart. So what happens?  I have panic attacks on my sleep. I've had insomnia for the last 2 weeks,  and when I finally close my eyes I dream of my death. Night after night,  I lie awake wondering what I'll see when I close my eyes. I need a shoulder to cry on. I need someone to hold my hand and tell me is going to be OK. I need reassurance of some sort,  but it never comes, partly because I don't let anyone in deep enough to see this pain. It took a sweet tiny human noticing it for me to accept it for myself.

My emotions are shot. My body is physically hurting from the stress. My brain runs non stop. I feel like I'm drowning,  but my feet won't touch the bottom. I can see the winds of change on the horizon,  but are they good?  I'm not sure my poor tattered soul can handle another storm right now. I have never been a quitter though. I don't give up,  and when I've been hearing "this is what you get" for the past few years,  I just keep pushing. I cannot accept defeat. Lord give me strength for whatever is to come. As I've said before,  if I can survive the last 4 years unmedicated, I can survive anything. Please don't let me question myself. Help me remember that's is just a bad day,  and not a bad life. Mostly,  remind me that my journey isn't over,  and whether it be 10 miles an hour or an inch per day, I must keep going.

The writing on the wall

I have always believed in a divine plan or purpose- kind of that everything happens for a reason concept. Call it fate, karma, what have you,  I've always believed it was real, though I didn't always pay attention to the signs.

A fine example would be roughly 10 years ago right after my ex had proposed marriage. I'm not sure of his intentions,  but I had none of rushing down the aisle. I saw a long engagement of several years at the least. Not quite how that turned out. A surprise pregnancy launched a mad dash to the alter with one set of parents demanding we make it right and the other coming up with every obstacle possible to prevent the exchanging of vows. Funny thing is,  I assumed the roles would be reversed. I figured it'd be my family forcing us down the halls of matrimony, but it was anything but. From the refusal to contribute financially to the wedding all the way to a bribe at the door of the church,  my family was firmly against it. Did I listen?  No. Why would I? After all we were happy, meant to be. I clearly wasn't reading the signs on the wall.

The day I met my in laws, I'd been invited to dinner at 7pm. I arrived at 6 50 and was greeted with a family that had already eaten and the driest piece of chicken I'd ever encountered placed in front of me with the words here ya go,  Kristen. Pardon me?  It's not bad enough the girls pictures were still all over the house,  but to be called her name?  I should've walked out, but I didn't. We were happy, remember?

The unplanned pregnancy was announced to my family right away. Actually, my mom informed me of my situation. None the less it was accepted with grace and love. Not the case when we announced to his family. After months of hiding until I could no longer conceal my growing bump,  I was denounced as the whore who'd disgraced their family name.  We won't mention that this was my first pregnancy, and he already had 2 children by 2 different women, neither of which he had anything to do with. I endured a couple hours of name calling, humiliation and belittling, before I finally just got up to leave. His dad chased outside and said whatever it took to calm me down. We cleared the air, but it would be an awkward few months to come.

The baby arrived just 6 weeks before the wedding date. That's when things began to get really interesting. The universe saw I wasn't paying attention to the subtle hints being thrown at me. So it stepped it up a notch or 12.  There was only 1 dress in the millions for sale that fit, and I hated it. My bridesmaids came from all walks of life and couldn't agree on a style,  and the plans on general crumbled a little every day. I had begged for 6 months to just go to the justice of the peace and not have a huge charade. He wanted to give me the wedding of my dreams. Little did he know the nightmare on the horizon. The week of the wedding rolled around. The chapel had been booked, bridesmaids informed to wear black, hair up,  and I didn'tcarethestyle,  and it was full steam ahead.

The first call of disaster was from the florist informing me that by mistake the flowers had not been ordered, and it wasn't possible to get them in. The next was from the photographer who'd over booked himself that day and would not be photographing our wedding. We rallied. My future mother in law took it upon herself to hire a florist and choose our flowers. He was color blind. My future father in law agreed to take the pictures four the ceremony,  but he didn't realize the shutter on his camera had broken. The only pictures we got were from my dad's camera and friends who attended. The cake lady was fired the day before the wedding for refusing to make what we wanted, so a friends of my future in laws made a cake. While it was delicious, it again was not what I wanted. Our intentions were to cut the cake at the chapel and be gone. No. That's not what the mother in law wanted,  so we were having a reception at her house. Mind you, this is the house that has ex girlfriend pictures still hanging on the walls.

I started to question who's wedding this was. Was it mine?  Or her's?

None the less,  ahead we marched like calves to the slaughter. As we arrived at the rehearsal dinner,  I realized I'd missed the graveyard in front of the chapel. Our parents had not yet been introduced,  and we arrived to find my dad sitting on a tombstone making off color jokes. Panic set in as the show down between 2 hot heads began,  but thankfully my mom diffused it by reminding both parties they weren't there for them. We sat through the most uncomfortable dinner where his family talked to each other, and my family spoke to each other. No one socialized. I was swept off to a furnished apartment provided by a friend, where the bathroom door broke on my way in,  and it took a near dislocated shoulder to bust out.

The morning of the wedding arrived,  and my groom had an unexpected oral surgery and then arrived sun burnt from watching a ball tournament half the day. A bridesmaid had fallen off the planet,  and to this day I've never heard from her. My hair didn't go as planned,  my makeup was more than my dad could handle, and my dress was just a tad too short. By the time my dad offered me $10,000.00 at the door of the church, every fiber of my being said run. Did I? Of course not. I had a wishbone instead of a backbone,  and down the aisle we went. There was no honey moon. There was no honey moon phase. We were whisked away back into everyday life, and in the back of my mind I wondered for months what if I'd just taken the money? 

Fate tried desperately to turn my head. I refused to see it. And while I have no regrets over the last 10 years, I still wonder what may have been. I don't regret a day I spent with the man. We built a great life together,  brought 3 beautiful children into this world,  and made a ton of memories. I learned a million lessons though.

Today I sit and reflect on my life,  and I'm genuinely happy where I'm at. I am madly in love with a man,  and between the 2 of us, we have 5 precious tiny humans. We have our disagreements. We fight. In fact,  a few weeks ago he struck a nerve with me, and I packed every item he owned and placed it by the front door. I didn't throw it in the yard, because that makes a whole new statement. That says, you're not coming back in. By the door says you can stay, but you'll fight for it. He did fight. It broke my heart to see him sad,  but I stood my ground, and we are stronger because of it.

Life has taught me never to be an option, never allow disrespect,  and fight for what you love. As I said, I don't have regrets in life. I do wish I'd told some I loved them sooner. I wish I'd told some to get lost sooner. Most of all,  I wish I had discovered who I was earlier in life. That's not how it happened though. I've learned so much over the years, and my heart is full of love and joy. I could choose to be bitter,  but I refuse. That doesn't hurt anyone but me. I will love with all my heart, but in the future hopefully,  I'll pay attention to the signs a little sooner. Maybe it will save me a tad bit of heartache. Maybe not,  only time will tell.