Honestly, I can think of few things more difficult for me than to pen an about me piece. It feels icky to me for a lot of reasons. But, I’ll try.
I love vintage finds, thrifting, and most all things outdoors. I never have a shortage of books or true crime podcasts and Audible memberships are by far my favorite gift I have ever gotten. If this were a bad Tinder bio, I’d say I like quiet evenings at home watching documentaries in pajamas with red wine and my favorite pup on the planet. …
Recently, I made a trip to the hair salon. I’ve been seeing the same stylist for a while. She’s my friend. I’ve shared meals and drinks with her. She’s never been the best stylist I’ve ever had, but out of loyalty I stayed.
This time, she botched my hair. Not even close to what I asked for. Still, I sat there and smiled. Paid, tipped, and walked out.
In the end, I rushed to make an appointment somewhere new and paid twice the amount I normally would have for a corrective color service.
What kept me trapped in this cycle…
Socks, underwear, everyday clothes, and two pairs of shoes. One pair in case we go to town and another pair in case I might get in the creek.
Satisfied, I close the flap on my princess Jasmine suitcase. Too excited to wait inside, I stand in the gravel in my jelly shoes, waiting to be picked up.
My big trip is an overnight stay at my grandparents’ house. A whole quarter of a mile up the road. Earlier this year they bought a new double-wide. I watched as two big trucks, each with one-half of a house went by. I…
This summer I completed my 6th, military-sponsored move. I haven’t yet fully recovered from the shame that flushed my cheeks on household goods delivery day. Though the revelation I had makes up for it some.
I knew I had a lot of clothes. Still, I didn’t quite anticipate 10 out of 12 wardrobe boxes would end being mine. For reference, wardrobe boxes are almost as tall as I am — close to 5 feet.
I heard the moving crews chuckles. Their jokes and chides. I saw them patting my husband on the back and softly apologizing to him.
A few months ago my husband and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary. Spoiler alert, we did nothing. Since we started dating as teenagers, we’ve exchanged 2 cards, (one humor, one sappy) for everything. Our 10th wedding anniversary was no different.
Anniversaries haven’t ever meant that much to me. They’re just days. I’ve never needed a day to be super important.
Perhaps a throwback to my upbringing when things weren’t celebrated. Perhaps an ode to what my adult life has been like with my husband’s military career. Perhaps a combination.
Or, perhaps a tribute to my inability to trust that…
My favorite photo is a screenshot of a Facetime call between me and my family at my great-grandmother’s birthday party. She couldn’t believe the technology capability and marveled at it the whole time.
She was turning 87 then. She was adorable in her pink party hat at her favorite place — Pizza Hut. Looking at the photo now makes me chuckle through the sting of nostalgic tears.
“Don’t you dare put me on that Book-Face thing!!”, she would say.
She didn’t understand social media, but she was fascinated by it. …
You know, a heart can be broken, but it still keeps a’beating. A person can die and still keep on living, just the same.
I never knew that, but it’s true. This is a remembrance of the version of me, I used to be.
I thought I understood death before, but I never did. I thought it was for the unliving. I misunderstood.
They say when you die there are bright lights. Blinding whiteness. A tunnel. Jesus waiting to welcome you behind an open door. Clairvoyance allegedly breaks through. They say that then, all things will be made new.
I imagine that you’ve clicked on this already offended. If not offended, at least on guard. Probably telling yourself that “It’s definitely not me that’s toxic”.
Maybe it’s not. Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not anymore.
Look, I can’t and won’t throw stones at anyone cutting ties with toxic, unhealthy behaviors. I’ve done it. I’ve written about it (a lot). This isn’t a listicle or a story detailing what, when, how, why, or who is toxic. (Though I’ve written those, too).
Rather, it’s a universal truth. We’ve all been toxic people at some point.
In the last year, my social…
In the last year, I’ve cut ties with many people. Best friends I’ve had for well over a decade. Relationships with some family members (including caretakers). No one was safe from my scissors.
The how and the why are irrelevant. Most of it can be summed up by saying that what I was taught was normal growing up was all wrong. It took a catastrophic tragedy for me to see that.
Once I did, I started taking stock of my surrounding relationships. I had modeled them off of the wrong things I was taught. I believed I deserved the bare…
I’ve always been a loner. An INFJ personality type, a rocky upbringing, and my eccentricity cemented this. I’ve never had a huge friend group. No gal pals or brunch brigades for me. I like it that way. I prefer closer, more intimate friendships.
Still, that can make my life feel a bit empty sometimes. Add in that my husband is military and we’ve moved every 2 years for the last decade. Now I’m in my mid-thirties with no cute village of folks.
Some of this is my fault. Years of trauma combined with frequent moves have hardened me. …