A while back, a woman wrote to me asking me to talk her out of being a fool. She'd met a guy and for whatever reason there was a spark. Lightning even. She said that she knew better than to believe that it could go anywhere.
Blindfolded and Sleepwalking
It’s like I closed my eyes for two minutes. Maybe it was just a blink. I swear, it couldn’t have been that long. Fall came and went. My daughter now too old to be taken door to door by her mother, made plans to trick-or-treat with friends. Did we even buy a pumpkin this year? I don’t think so.
Coming Home
I think this is what happens when a heart gets broken too many times. When a person gets criticized too many times. Or when a body is lonely for too long. To save our own lives, we cut pieces of ourselves off in an attempt to drag ourselves to whatever we are desperately seeking.
Looking Into the Eyes of Freedom
These were little compromises, tiny seemingly-harmless shape-shifty-things. I'd backed myself into a corner of a very small cage. And I wasn't okay in there. Something needed to change.
Know-It-Alls Are Not Sexy
You know those kind of people that always know the answer? The kind of people who insist on making sure you have the facts straight? The kind of people who want to make sure that you know if you've gotten something wrong? The kind of people who need to be right?
Yah. I hate those kind of people.
And I hated it even more when I found out that I AM one of those people.
I'm sure to anyone who knows me very well, this information isn't quite the shocker that it was for me. It's probably relatively obvious that I'm a...
How to Know When It's Over
Whether you're wondering about ending a friendship, leaving a marriage, setting hard boundaries with a family member or quitting a job, these three steps will help you clearly define when it's over (and when it's not).
6 Steps to Courageous Intimacy
Courageous Intimacy is the sharing of all of one's heart with one another. And I'm not talking about sharing the pretty parts - like love and joy - with each other (although that's great and I encourage you to do so). I mean sharing all of you: the good, the bad and the ugly. Sharing who you really are—which is a practice of unending vulnerability.
Heartbreaks and Triumphs
I think I have PTSD from Valentine's Day. Those years spent as a single mom were some of the best years of my life but also some of the most lonely and painful. When every magazine, TV show and social network was bantering on about romance, I just wanted to slink off and hide until the whole thing was over with.
Don't get me wrong, I did great things with my daughter. We'd go out to dinner and to the movies. We'd get flowers and decorate the dining room table. I did my best to create a version of Valentines Day that worked for us. But honestly, it still hurt.
Five Things I Thought I'd Never Be Thankful For
race yourself.
This isn't going to be a typical Thanksgiving post full of positivity-lite and generic gratitude.
Ironic, because I find myself in a place in my life where I have never been more happy. Or more grateful. And I could easily write a piece on how beautiful my life is and how thankful I am for that. To which you could roll your eyes. Or burn with jealousy. Or give me a standing ovation.
And I honestly don't think it would do either of us any good.
So, I thought about what I'd really like to share with you. What gratitude really means to me. And what giving thanks actually looks like in my life.
It's easy to be thankful for the "good stuff." A loving and kind man. Healthy kids. Career success. Strong body. Great friends. Beautiful home.
It's easy to be thankful for the "simple stuff." A hot cup of coffee. Warm fuzzy socks. The song of the black bird outside my window. Amazon Prime.
Independence Day
Last winter, my heart was broken. Someone I loved very much walked out of my life. Out of my daughter's life.
He gave no reason.
He just bailed.
And for months after, I tried to heal. I tried to forgive. I tried to forget.
I tried to pick up the pieces of my heart and scotch-tape them back together.
My chest literally hurt. My rib cage ached. I felt haunted by the Ghost of Relationships Past. Everything I did. Everywhere I went. He was there.
I came to realize this heavy brick on my sternum was grief.
And that it is normal.
And that it sucks.