Archive for the ‘about me’ Category


November 30, 2017

I went to a health and life coaching conference a few weeks ago. This thing was so life changing for me.

There I discovered that I’ve spent my entire life shutting down all the emotions coming in and out of me. Let me explain that better.

The past few years I’ve become this person that feels so much… I thought I was just because I was a female taking birth control in my late 20s. I thought this was just the hormonal dip and dive of live. Turns out… I’m just an emotional person. And I began accepting that about me a year or so ago. But I was always sorry about it. I was always wishing I was “stronger” or more “even”. I apologized for feeling and apologized even more for expressing those feelings. Good, bad, or ugly. My friends even poked fun at me because I was the “emotional one”. And again, I was apologetically emotional. All the feels. Wishing I could stifle them. Thinking that would make me a better person… a better significant other… a better friend.

At this conference I discovered that it’s not to my detriment that I feel more. It’s my GIFT! I have never looked at it this way. Like I said, I figured it was an emotional imbalance. Lol… i mean… i even blogged about my birth control hunt because the moods that were swinging. ha! But no. A gift. 🙂 Not every one is blessed enough to feel as deeply as me. But what have I been practicing my whole life?




I don’t know anything else. It’s always been my go-to. I am use to walking into large groups of people and completely shutting out the world. I claimed introvert. I made that the reason for how I became in large groups of people. But i’m not! I LOVE people. I love talking to people. I love new people. I love the connection. So why this shut down? Once I accepted this part of me it became so obvious to me. I walked into large groups of people and shut off because I was taking in way too many of other’s emotions. I was feeling too many of something else from outside of my body. My knee jerk reaction to feelings… ew! Make it stop! lol! I had no idea. Gah! I’m a fucking empath. Where did that come from??? And I can’t help but think of how ironic it is that my rational, logically mind has finally thrown its hands up and bent its knee to my true self. I am an empath.

Thru the conference as the veil was being lifted from my eyes about my gift I’d been denying I took on a new mantra. Stay Open. I fight myself constantly on just shutting down. I repeat in my mind, “Stay open.” Right now it’s a constant practice. I know it’ll come more and more natural. I not only want to accept this, but I want to harness this. I want to learn how to use this gift of reading others and being this channel for the good of others. I’ll be able to use this so much to help my clients!

I’m so fucking glad to have FINALLY accepted this about me. Since leaving this conference I’ve never felt so whole in my entire life. I’ve never felt so full. I’ve never ever felt SO BIG!

The universe is shaping me into something quite beautiful and I am open and ready to accept all of life and all the gifts it wants to grant me!

Who knew that changing my careers would be such a spiritual journey for me. I cannot express enough how much gratitude I have for this whole transformation.

personal boundaries

October 10, 2017

I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. You know how when you pray for patience you should expect the opportunity to practice it instead of just being given good patience magically? Well as soon as I put this intention about my boundaries out into the universe the universe handed me a boatload of opportunities to stick up for myself. 

I had a guy that abasically assaulted me years ago call me. Ok… So that one was easy… But the universe knew I needed a softball to get my feet wet. Then another guy that use to be a playmate asked to scene with me, and I was able to shut him down because of his current relationship status. I wasn’t interested in being the chick on the side even if it was just to scene with. 

All those were just practice for this one tho… My father. Specifically his girlfriend. A girl that is younger than me and hooked on drugs. I’m the only one out of all my siblings that will even allow this girl in my current place of residency. They came over and stayed the night. She ended up stealing some of my clothes. There’s a huge long back story to all this that I don’t have the energy to go into, but I finally did it. I cut my father off. Well, until he ditches the addict. I know I know.  You might say the heart wants what it wants, but my father does not want this chick. If she made him happy this would be a different story. He keeps telling me he feels trapped. And she’s abusive. But that’s all part of that long back story. It’s unhealthy and I can no longer be in support of it. And stealing my clothes… Ugh. Maybe I’ll go in to more detail at another time. Sigh. 

Anyway. Somehow the universe gave me a fuse just short enough to be able to build some much needed walls. 

It’s interesting to me… I’m so gracious with people. And for the most part I love this about me. It makes me unique. It’s my super power and why I’m such a good friend. But lately I’ve just been railroaded because of it. Gracious to a fucking fault. Which is sad because like I said I really like this about me. Usually. I know there’s a balance… I need to take this gift I have and make it a better art form. Sprinkle in some discernment. And make sure I am kept safe while being the best me possible.

the girl with the birthmark

December 20, 2016

To me it’s like having a nose. It just is. I completely forget it might be defining. I’ve never not had it. I forget that is is a prominently displayed feature on my face. I barely see it when I look in the mirror. Or at least its not something I note often. Like I said, it’s like having a nose.

I notice things like a pimple that just popped up. Or the dry skin from having the heater cranked up all night.

I forget its a defining feature. So when I overhear you say, “You know, the girl with the birthmark”, I start thinking… who’s got the birthmark. Oh yeah. That’s me.

It use to be brighter. And larger. I had some laser work done on it. Not because I sought out to get rid of it. I was at a dermatologist appointment once and he mentioned he could laser it, and I just kind of went with it. It broke up the brightest spots just below my right eye. He removed as much as he could. The rest, which is still a significant amount, is unremovable.

I’ve heard people say its the first thing they see. And then I see people every day for years and one day they ask who punched me. To which I’ve many times replied to with “You should see the other guy.” Original I know, but people laugh every time. Tried and True. As soon as I tell them that it’s actually a birthmark they are almost embarrassed. Not sure why. Is it because they feel silly for never noticing, or they feel rude for pointing out something I can’t change about myself. Almost like a foot in mouth situation.

But it’s not embarrassing to me. It just is. It’s endearing. It’s me. If you love me, you easily love my birthmark. I know this about me.

When I’m eating a clean diet and taking care of myself which I tend to do, my complexion is second to none… porcelain beautiful… and my birthmark actually stands out even more… but in a smooth sort of glow.

I guess I mean to say… I am the girl with the birthmark. It’s mine. It’s me. I love that.

the one

April 15, 2016

Had a hot couch date last night. 🙂

I love when you first start dating someone, and how it feels good just to sit with them. Like, you smile just because your legs are touching. All the good feels are bursting out. It’s my favorite.

I got caught up for a few years about that sexual charge feeling. You know, that new and exciting person that wants you… And those feels are nice too. Full of lust and want. And they want it too. It just oozes (sometimes literally) from you.

But this is a more calm state of being. Both have their merits. For sure. But this is a grow old with someone, keep ’em forever, buy a house, have babies sort of feeling. I haven’t had this feeling… maybe in forever. I mean, I’ve had small flickers of moments like this. But even when I was married I didn’t feel that consistently.

I didn’t realize this feeling… versus the rip-clothes-off-and-fuck-for-days feeling was ONE THOUSAND TIMES BETTER. No. Infinitely better.

Don’t get me wrong though. There’s definitely heat here. I’ve never dated someone I find this attractive. I feel like the luckiest gal on the planet. I can’t keep my hands off of him. Or my lips. But… there’s way way way more than just lust.

I hate throwing around phrases like “I’ve never felt this way” when starting a new relationship because all my friends say that. One guy after the other… It’s always “This is totally and completely different”. Then three months later they hate each other or it’s 6 months later and they haven’t had sex in 4 months and they don’t know how to break up with them. It’s so cliche and I absolutely hate being cliche. But… guys? This is different! And I’ve NEVER felt this before. The future feels good with him. I can see it. And it transcends all the negative relationship woes that I usually feel when thinking about commitment. That dread I’ve felt about marriage and the whole family thing… it’s not there right now.

And I always have to qualify with this because of my logical math brain. I know its early yet. I know things can go badly and in a hurry. I know I know I know. But…

He’s the one.

And I hope to god I’m not writing you guys in a few weeks, months, or even years saying “I guess he wasn’t…”

And if do? If I’m wrong about this..? I’m switching teams and trying out the ladies.

jealousy tango

April 6, 2016

I finally did it. I deactivated my Fetlife account. I also blocked about a bagillion men on my phone, facebook, instagram, and snapchat. I deleted my kik app. Basically anything that might accidentally have someone drunk texting/messaging/snapping me.

Mitch is suuuuuuper jealous. And… I’m kind of nervous about that! I haven’t exactly set up a shady free life over here. I mean, I’m well on my way there now! And that’s of my OWN FREE WILL! I’m terrified that anyone of these mother fucker’s from my past will send a dick pic just because they are lonely or some bullshit. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. Why the HELL do I entertain these munchkins (munchkins? going with it) in the first place?! I really don’t know. And it’s not like it feels weird at the time… It just progresses in a way that… gets weird. I’m not particularly proud or happy and DEFINITELY not fond of it.

Any way, if it isn’t a dick pic, it’s an “I miss you” text… or a “been thinking about you” or “you still dating that guy?”… and on and on and on.

I can’t have any of these unwarranted and uninvited messages being taken as me being an interested party. NOT EVEN IN THE SLIGHTEST! Mitch will take one look and be hurt and running! I can’t risk that.

I have men’s body wash in my bathroom. Mitch asked me about that. “Is it Andy’s?” Before I could think about it, I said, “No, it’s Sir T (of course i used his real name…)”… and he was asking me in the dark, but I swear I heard his eyes roll and body stiffen. It’s some damn body wash I was just too lazy to throw away… and really I wouldn’t throw it away. Really it’s not about laziness, I kept it around for Andy (is this messed up?). And I will probably use it as soon as my other stuff runs out. Because I’m super frugal like that.  It’s not something I think about.

I have a past. And I can be sad and ashamed and sorry and guilty or whatever for it… but you know what? I’m not that sad and ashamed and sorry or guilty over much of it at all. Would I nullify some of it if I had the chance? You fucking better believe it. But most of it has shaped who I am today and how I know what I’m worth. It took a lot of screwed up moments to understand all that. A LOT! And for the most part, all I feel is grateful for what my experiences has shaped me to be today. I love me. I’m awesome.

Mic drop; out.

he’s got a girlfriend??

March 18, 2016

So, its no secret that I still communicate with my ex husband. I went through several phases with this. As expected I think. You know, the wish he didn’t exist phase. The wish my family didn’t know he exists phase. Then it morphed at some point. I can talk to him easily. I can seek his advice. I know he will always be someone I can lean on if I need it. He really is a great guy.

With that said, as someone that talks to her ex regularly I felt he needed to know that I was dating someone. So back in October or November, whenever me and A made it official, I slipped it into one of our conversations. Out of respect. If he is going to consider me a friend, if we are doing this friend thing, then that is a tid bit you would tell a friend. I didn’t want to lie, not even by omission. Nothing malicious about it. I was just informing him. Respect, right?

A few months back, I had to get his help with something on my taxes. Okay, so I didn’t HAVE to… but he was my tax guy before. He was my everything guy before. It’s a rough transition to have an everything guy to having no guy, then to having a long distance guy that is terrible at adulting guy. Anyway… He helped me do my taxes. It was the first time on my own. It was nice to have him walk me through it. It was good of him to help. He brought beer and sushi… It was a fun time.

I asked him then if he was dating any one. Just part of a conversation. I really want to know these things. Lots of reasons behind it. Some reasons are completely legit. I care about him as a person and his happiness and well being. But some are less legit like – should I be worried about a girl beating me up for asking for his help while we drink beer and hang out for the evening. Or even less legit reasons and thought processes. Like… how jealous should I be? Is she skinnier than me? Will his family like her more? And can I take her?

Anyway, for all the reasons I asked him. He said “No.” Satiates my curiousity, right?

Fast forward to last Monday night. Went out for drinks with friends/co-workers. They wanted to make sure I was okay after this break up. Through the night I find out that the chick I see my ex husband in the halls with (yes, I still work in the same building as him – hey, I didn’t say this was healthy) is his girlfriend. COME AGAIN? His GIRLFRIEND? He’s got a whah?

I do understand why he wouldn’t want to tell me. And I get that it’s not the most comfortable conversation to have with your ex. And maybe I am grateful for being blissfully unaware that there’s a woman at work (she’s totally just a girl tho) whose eyes are on me with all its reigning judgment. (Maybe that’s too dramatic.) Truth be told I do see them together, but I couldn’t have picked her out of a line up. Not until now! I got them to show me her face. And I started picking her apart and verbally ripping her to shreds!

PAUSE! This isn’t me. Why do I care that she walks funny, that her teeth are weird, and her hair is as thin as mine? Who the fuck cares?! Why do I get pleasure from someone telling me I’m prettier than her? I know this reaction is all too normal. But why? I don’t want to be the person to take pleasure in these things. But I do! It made my heart smile to hear that she has a dud of a personality. I don’t know her. I have never even shared a superficial, small-talk greeting with her. I have no basis in reality for judging her so much. I’m ashamed that I feel this way. But I do. So I guess this is me. I’m normal. I’m human. I can try to fight it. That will help a bit. But… I’ve already shown my true colors. It’s already out. I’m… THAT girl.

I have some growing to do as an individual and as a woman. I guess it’s good to see this in such a controlled environment… Not that I thought I was done with myself. A complete and perfect indivdiual. Not by far. But… Yeah, I’ve got work to do.

2016: take two

January 15, 2016

I’ve been holding back in my writings lately. Recently my anonymity was broken. The things I have written about haven’t been censored, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t cherry picking the easier topics from my life line up. I hate that being known effects this blog at all. And I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.

In my writings, I am vulnerable. This blog is me stripped naked for the world and the only way I’m strong enough for that, the only way I’m not terrified about that, is because no one knows who I am. No one knew. I think we are all better at opening up to strangers than to our family members and friends. That’s the point of anonymous blogs. We get to do this living out loud thing and no one can really judge us. Or at least not judge us in a way that can petrify us.

When I write I water down the emotions with humor, and I like doing that. It’s my voice. It’s how I deal with things. But no matter how goofy it all may seem, I pour everything into these writings. Each one makes up my inner most self. If you took all my posts and fit them together that is who I am. Anyone reading these blogs would know me better than all the people I see on a daily basis. It’s a pretty clear picture I think.

Vulnerability isn’t a bad thing. It’s like being “too nice”, it was NEVER suppose to be a bad thing. But that is what society makes it. Society kind of forces it to be faults. If you are too nice people will use you and you’ll become a push over. If you are too vulnerable then all those insecurities and faults will be exploited. But those negative characteristics are what makes us better humans. Better friends. Better listeners. Better helpers. It is in those negative moments that we are made stronger because knowing who we are, knowing our weak links, prepares us for life.

I’m not sure why, but my last few weeks have been hard. I can’t seem to get into the swing of 2016. I’ve been backsliding in all the strides I made in 2015.

I’m no stranger to backsliding, and after reading some of my fellow bloggers’ blogs lately, I’m not alone. We’ve all had a hard go of it lately. Whether it be overcoming food, fears, bad habits, relationships, over exercise, self doubt, or sadness. Everyone has the same words right now. We failed. But we won’t quit.

Hope is one of those weird, counter intuitive human things. Even without proof we hope. Hope and faith, we cling to them, but the very definition makes it irrational to do so. To hope or have faith means its something you put stock into despite all other previous outcomes. We still expect that one day our perfect outcome will happen. Our time will come. We’ll finally get it right. Thank goodness for hope and faith, right? Because the only proof is we haven’t over come our demons yet.

I say we all get up, dust ourselves off, and start this year over. Who’s with me?

things i dislike…

January 8, 2016
  • When compliments are fished for. I don’t like stroking egos for the sake of an ego being stroked. I like to give compliments where they are needed and when they are evoked from me implicitly. I want to be inspired so strongly that it pops out! Or to lift someone’s spirit with one. But if I, for one second, think that this compliment is only going to inflate an already inflated head, I won’t do it. I will keep it. Even if its a noteworthy and an earned compliment. I keep it.
  • Carrying a clip board… there is no way to not look like a douche bag carrying one of those. It’s like mustaches… there’s no way to make it look good. I don’t care who you are (I’m talkin to you Tom Sellek, just because I wouldn’t recognize you without it doesn’t mean its doing anything to improve your look). A clip board says you think you are important. A clipboard says I’m about to boss you around. It says I’ve gotta boss so many people around that I can’t even memorize the list so see? I carry it on me.
  • Dreams about being pregnant… Or deciding on pregnancy… I wake up sad. And its probably not even literally about having a baby. It’s something less intuitive or whatever, right? Whatever.
  • Being unmotivated. Just get up and go, gah! I’m a type A person. So, my happy place is crossing off a check list and getting shit done. That alone gives me sooooo many feel goods… So being unmotivated makes me have the same amount of feels, but they are bad feels. I hate feeling the bad feels. Get up and go!
  • When money and/or distance is a pain point. Money and distance just shouldn’t be a factor in decisions or matters of the heart.
  • Not being able to say certain things because I don’t want to hurt feelings. This runs my verbal life. I put words on a pedal-stool because I can’t take them back. They are the most permanent thing on this planet. So usually if I’m in doubt, I keep them to myself, but… It’s not always healthy.
  • When someone says I’m “too nice”. Bitch please! This is a choice! I EFFING WANT TO BE NICE! BACK OFF! Just because I make you feel bad because you make all your decisions based on only your own wants and desires doesn’t mean you need to pull me into your selfish game.
  • When a friend chooses an ugly bridesmaid’s dress. A lot of us make fun of this. We joke about a bride being the best looking in the wedding party, and going as far as sabotaging the whole bridesmaid’s look. THIS IS REAL! I am in a wedding in a few weeks. My friend, the bride, is one of these woman. She has insecurities that run so deep she doesn’t even know about them. But they manifest themselves in ways like picking a bridesmaid’s dress that puffs out hips in a round marshmallow way instead of a curvy sexy way. I hate to think these decisions weren’t made subconsciously but I know her… and she thought about it. This is the same chick that made me turn around to go get my wedding ring that I accidentally left on the sink before going on a night on the town (when I was married and she wasn’t engaged). I said, “Oh shoot, I forgot my ring.” We are a mile from my house, not far, but super inconvenient. “You HAVE to turn around. Nu uh, you can’t go downtown without that.” She didn’t want me to even slightly appear available next to her. Maybe I should be flattered by this one, but I just find it odd and manipulating. True story. Anyway, back to the dress. I have a philosophy that I live by. I have gone against this time and time again, and each time I go against it I hate myself ALL day long. Philosophy: Never leave the house until you feel cute in what you are wearing. This really effects my self esteem. Its not worth saving time on settling for an outfit. I need to think I look cute. I don’t care who else thinks it. *I* need to think this. But in this dress I feel huge and frumpy. I’ll be the one at the wedding curled up (possibly under a table) with a stolen bottle of champagne. No, not the girl with the glass… the one next to her chugging from the bottle. (Wow, I really ranted about that one. Moving right along.)
  • When what-ifs take up even the most minuscule moment of my cognitive space. What-ifs take everything good out of the present. They are simply torture. I think If I was ever being questioned by the CIA you’d just have to put me in a room with all my what-ifs. It won’t be long that I’ll say anything and beg to be out of that room. I love now. And what-ifs just try to make me question everything, even all the things going right.
  • When people don’t yield when entering round-abouts. There’s one right outside of my apartment complex. Laying on my horn didn’t become a natural reflex till I started having to do this round-about multiple times a day. I honk like a New Yorker now. (Is that a thing?)
  • Being on-call on the weekends. Does this need any more explaining?? That’s me this weekend, btw.

Most of these bullet points merit a full blog post. But for the sake of positivity I’m going to get all the negative stuff down and out of the way. And because they are in my brain NOW and need OUT!

Happy Friday all!


December 7, 2015

Andy: “We’ve been invited to an ugly sweater party. I went to Goodwill after work today and picked up 2 for us, just in case you don’t have one. I can’t wait to have you hang out with my friends this weekend.”

me: “Okay! sounds good. Yeah, I don’t have one. Thanks, babe.”

And BAM my outfit was made. Skinny jeans, black boots, and a sweater I’ve never seen before. Perfect.

I thought it was so sweet that he thought about me when he was deciding his outfit. And I LOVE that he is the kind of guy to not be too cool to be festive. I mean, he went all out for halloween! Makes me smile. And anytime someone can take the pressure off of picking out an outfit to wear I will take it!

So we get to his best friend’s house…

The house is beautiful. Every nook and cranny looks like it came straight out of pinterst. No… it looked like pinterest was created because of this house. I’m never gonna be good at decorating. My poor apartment looks like a bachelor pad with only a few exceptions. I am thoroughly intimidated.

The party consists of 3 married couples and me and Andy. All the boys were guys from my high school. And 1 of the girls was from my high school. The other two from the rival school that I’ve never met but small town rumors say they were the popular, every boy wants her and every girl wants to be her, girls.

The girls are all dressed up. I mean, duh, it’s a party. Why wouldn’t they be. It was an ugly sweater party, but nothing about their outfits said ugly. They were all cute and fabulous. Hair and make up and outfit. Wow. I wanted to get behind one of the 3 perfectly decorated christmas trees I could see from my vantage point in the entry way and just kind of shrivel up.

I was so down on myself from the moment I walked in. I was in high school all over again. Before I loved me. Before I knew me. I was so out of place and it was throwing me in a time warp.

At one point the girls disappeared and I’m in the kitchen with the all their husband’s and Andy. I think about how this is Andy’s group of friends and how if I’m going to be around for a while (at least this is a hope of mine) I better try a bit harder than I was. So I go find the girls. Smoking. Okay. “wanna smoke?” “Sure.” I can get into a little social, with drinks, kind of smoke break. As soon as I light my cigarette, and thank God I got it to light after the first try, they wrapped theirs up and took off to go try on the hostess’s new lipstick… Um, okay. So i’m outside by myself thinking do I just stomp this out and follow them? Finish it and follow them? Just stay here finish it then resume my position next to Andy’s side? I scold myself for not trying enough. I command myself: put the cig out and go find the girls. They put a lipstick on me that is more of a stain than a lipstick. And of course it looks terrible. It wasn’t in the lines. Don’t let a drunk girl that cares nothing about you put on a stained lipstick. So they all prance off once again. I’m looking at the lipstick and trying to fix the lines. I hate it. I go back to join the rest. We all decide to play drinking games. Cool. But all I can think about is how ridiculous I look with the reddest shade of stain on my lips. Gag. I disappear and try to scrub it off. This must be really expensive shit cuz it ain’t goin’ nowhere! I join the others with painful lips that look even worse because of all the stain I’ve just managed to move around my mouth area.

When I think about the whole thing I get upset with myself for getting so caught up in really really old insecurities I had. I don’t care to fit in with these kind of girls. I can invest in Andy’s friends without being like them. What was I thinking? Why was I being such a junior high girl about it?

I like me. I wish I would’ve stood my ground and kept my identity. I wish I was above regression. Not sure if it was the high school crowd, or just feeling like an outsider… but I did not like the me that was wishy washy.

An old lesson from an adult perspective. I don’t need to be someone else. I love who I am. It shouldn’t bother me that others might not. Definitely a good reality check for me. Hold true to me. No reason not to.

I’m shaking it off and putting that in my back pocket.

speaking of bowling…

September 21, 2015

Is it just me or is it awkward to have everyone staring at your backside while you bend over, grab the ball, scoot to the starting position and bowl your turn?

I felt like when someone else was bowling no one was watching. We were all chatting and laughing. But on my turn I’m hyper aware of the eyes on my backside. I coach myself through it tho. I coach myself a lot. Assuring myself that no one watched the last person bowl. Or the person before that. I even feel bad when I miss someone strike and no one is aware enough to cheer them on.

So why, when I turn around after my turn is over, are all eyes on me? Am I being paranoid?

Add this to my social anxiety list…