Tag: growth

Grateful

“Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.”

~ Oscar Wilde

Sometimes the rough points in life seem endless. There is no light at the end of the tunnel and bad things are just going to continue to occur without pause. That is life and it goes on, so they say. 

2022 has been one big pile of unimaginable tragedy, pain, illness, and trauma, not just for my husband and I, but for folks within our tight knit little “framily”. My heart has been at a complete loss for why all of these incidents and heartaches are taking place at the same time. Is it just our age? Have we reached a strange place where this is just, how things are for a bit? If so, I cannot say I am enjoying it in the slightest. Nope. 

“Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die”

~ Buddha

So here we are in February after a lot of pain and mourning, hard decisions and healing, feeling surprisingly ready for whatever the rest of 2022 is here to bring. Priorities, plans, and finances redirected to finally begin pursuing what we have been putting on the back burner for our own growth. Feeling immensely grateful for the grace, empathy, and support we have received in our little circle during the heavy when it could have just been an “I told you so!”. Sometimes it is the littlest things that have reminded both of us we are worthy of better.

I could not feel more thankful for this moment of feeling a strange, unimaginable sense of peace. 

For those feeling less than worthy, I implore you to start your new year now. Redefine and rearrange what amplifies in you “I AM WORTHY!”. Find yourself a few folks with integrity who will check you when you need it and lift you when you cannot lift yourself. Fill up those timelines and follows with focus on the positive, the uplifting, and the safe.

The power of taking control over your own space is one you will never want to give back. 

X’s O’s and Skittles

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Re-introductions(?)

Recently I’ve realized that, outside of my pretty yarn photos and goofy comments, I have not properly introduced myself to all the new people that I have gotten to know on the social interwebs…so instead of writing one out again, I did a thing…

Who knows. Maybe I will do another one…😏

Cheers,

XoXo

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Things Unseen

Finding out someone’s story can be such an enlightening journey. Everybody has one, after all.

I was not aware that unconditional love was a real life concept until I met my husband. Growing up in a warped church and home environment taught me that forgiveness was only a preached myth from the Bible. In my experience, love was issued on invisible strings of terms, conditions, rules, and regulations. People left one by one after the terms were broken, because I was broken, I learned that I had to follow all of the rules set forth to me in order to receive care; constantly on the edge of a cliff.

Being raised in a bubble of fear means you only really know fear. If you are not taught that peace and help could be provided to you, you are not going to know to look for it, especially when your childhood precedes the age of technology. As I was homeschooled full time throughout my schooling years, I had little understanding of how the real world worked on the outside by the time I was ready to enter it, let alone any social skills.

While many children were raised up to appreciate human interaction, affection, social development, and nurturing, some of us are not as blessed. Some of us are left to stray off to the side to be forgotten in a sea of unimportant faces, left for no one to hold. When most kids were being exposed to new and exciting development, I was being conditioned to avoid a leather belt. To accept violent, corporal punishment for misbehavior, some incidents leaving lifelong mental and physical scars. To long days and nights of constant arguments and tension while I hid from the war zone. To learning the best pressure points to torture an animal with and how much enjoyment you can get watching the life leave their eyes when you kill them by the time I was seven. To keeping my feelings to myself.

To never say anything about what happens behind our front door because our business was no one else’s.

I was raised by a sociopath.

Depression, PTSD, personality disorder, anxiety disorder, dissociative disorder, agoraphobia, and a horrible case of morsicatio buccarum since birth. These are some of the effects I have faced after a childhood that was not and for the sake of normalizing the ability for me to talk about my abuse, after thirty-some-odd years of life, I want to talk about it. It is time to talk about it.

The past four years have been a difficult road of pain, processing, acceptance, and healing as I finally decided to turn around and face it all. I am still at the point of understanding and healing and I think I always will be, but I am tired of keeping that to myself. My experiences in life have made up who and why I am today.

Me, myself, and and yarn.

Everyone has a story of their journey to becoming who they are today. Welcome to mine.

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