I think it is important to remember who you were before you started your way in life.
I think in order to forgive myself my past and to move towards the future I have to remember myself when I was happy and content and whole.
I decided to go back to the happiest moments of my life and see what made me so happy and why I am not that way now.
My happiest moments...I guess was growing up at the lake by our house. Jason and I lived at that lake. Every morning in the summer Jason and I would grab some stuff and head over for a day of adventure.
I remember bring fishing rods and fishing all day. Our favorite fishin spot was on this rock that was just off the shore. It was a very large rock and we could cast our line and lay around waiting for a bite from our fish friends. Lots of time passed during our fishing trip and we spent alot of it daydreaming, skipping rocks (probably didn't help with the fishing) and talking, our conversations where about friends, mom and dad, food (we were always hungry) and fish. We imagined this huge fat fish waiting for our hook...we would wrestle it to the ground and mom would be disgusted that we brought it home. That excited us. Disgusting mom.
One one particular, fishing was long. No fish. People around us were catching fish...what the hell!!?? Jason decides our fat fish wanted something special. He dug in our dad's old fishing tackle and found some pink marshmallow things. AH HA! This is the cure. We stuck in on our line and cast it out...about a half hour later we had a bite. We reeled it in and dragged it off our rock on to the shore. We were dancing and cheering and excited, till we saw our fish... he was so small...omg he was small. Jason went over to take the hook out...tried catching it three times till he realized I was pulling on the line to keep it from him.
He gave me the finger.
Rude.
Once he took the fish off the line, we put it under water so he wouldn't suffer while we decided to keep him or not. We could keep him and take him home because he would still disgust our mom, but dad would laugh at his size, and mock us for our hunting gathering skills. Decisions decisions. There we were, squatting in the water trying to make a decision together. The decision was made for us when Jason tried to push me over into the water and I grabbed him and we both went under, Jason let go of the fish.
Man, did we laugh.
I think that moment sticks out because it was fun and easy. I was playing and it was ok to do it.
Why when we get older, do we forget to play? Or joke and laugh or be free? If you have a family teach them how to have fun and be free and laugh.
I should do this. I should give them some magical childhood moments that we can share with each other later.
I can't reminisce with Jason anymore, that part of my past is only mine now. I guess I am sharing it with all of you and that helps. When you lose your only sibling you lose that part of your history. No one else knows these stories, and no one can add to it. So I guess the lesson learned today is to make new stories...something that my friends, my family and I can talk about and laugh about later.
I will help my kids play and live and love and have beautiful memories of their own.
Then one day, when I am gone. They can gather with each other and remember our lives, and me, well lived, well loved, well done.
Time to play.
Come along for the ride.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Being content
Have you ever sank your teeth into something that was just heaven? You roll it around in your mouth and let the flavors just dance on your taste buds? I do this every time with a cheese doodle.
Some of you may not understand what a cheese doodle is. It's orange; but not a hostile orange more of a sunset in the sky color, It's crunchy but not in the Captain Crunch sorta way that cuts up your mouth and leaves you unsatisfied. Cheese Doodles come in a variety of shapes. I like the fatter ones that I can suck on until it dissolves into a smaller clump then swallow it whole. Cheese Doodles don't mock me or need commitments from me. They are there when I am sad, or happy or bored. I count on cheese doodles.
I wish there was a rehab for Cheese doodles.
Hi my name is Raquel. "Hi Raquel" It has been 3 minutes since my last cheese doodle. "clap clap clap" I need encouragement to quit them, some cute little poem to say every morning so I don't use. SIGH. A sponsor would be nice, someone that I can call when the doodle cravings are wild.
I would be calling a lot.
I was trying to remember when I started eating them with frenzy. I think it was during my divorce. During my divorce I think I was the most stressed I have ever been. My mom was battling cancer, my ex and I were at war, my kids were not living with me, and I missed them. I was sad beyond a word to explain it and I opened up a bag of Cheese doodles and crunched away all the frustration and sadness and loneliness. I would lie in my bed with orange crumbs all around me and feel content. I was full inside. I temporarily filled myself up so I wouldn't feel so sad.
I have been filling myself up for a long time. I eat to fill myself up with something. Something is better than empty.
I started noting when I wanted cheese doodles the most. It's usually when I am alone in my room reading books. I read a lot. I am alone at night every night. Jon works nights.
Don't get me wrong I love being alone at night. I get the whole bed. I get all the blankets, pillows are under every part of my body and I can eat, drink and read until my hearts content... until my hearts content.
HOLY CRAP!!! Until my hearts content...that is why I eat so much!! I want a content heart. Sure cheese doodles ARE tasty but are they as tasty as love and happiness and contentment. Nope.
I need contentment. How do you get it when you don't even know what makes me content anymore? What makes me at peace? What settles me down and gives me hope and passion and excitement? My family gives me some, I admit, but I am not defined as a mother, or a sister or any title. I am a woman with great intentions that wants to do the best she can from now on. Not live a half-life that is safe and lame. I want to live this life the best I can.
What I did learn from losing so many, is that life is short...get on with it. Do it the best you can.
I haven't been.
I sure the hell will now. Look out for some major changes in me. I feel it coming...
Total contentment!!
Some of you may not understand what a cheese doodle is. It's orange; but not a hostile orange more of a sunset in the sky color, It's crunchy but not in the Captain Crunch sorta way that cuts up your mouth and leaves you unsatisfied. Cheese Doodles come in a variety of shapes. I like the fatter ones that I can suck on until it dissolves into a smaller clump then swallow it whole. Cheese Doodles don't mock me or need commitments from me. They are there when I am sad, or happy or bored. I count on cheese doodles.
I wish there was a rehab for Cheese doodles.
Hi my name is Raquel. "Hi Raquel" It has been 3 minutes since my last cheese doodle. "clap clap clap" I need encouragement to quit them, some cute little poem to say every morning so I don't use. SIGH. A sponsor would be nice, someone that I can call when the doodle cravings are wild.
I would be calling a lot.
I was trying to remember when I started eating them with frenzy. I think it was during my divorce. During my divorce I think I was the most stressed I have ever been. My mom was battling cancer, my ex and I were at war, my kids were not living with me, and I missed them. I was sad beyond a word to explain it and I opened up a bag of Cheese doodles and crunched away all the frustration and sadness and loneliness. I would lie in my bed with orange crumbs all around me and feel content. I was full inside. I temporarily filled myself up so I wouldn't feel so sad.
I have been filling myself up for a long time. I eat to fill myself up with something. Something is better than empty.
I started noting when I wanted cheese doodles the most. It's usually when I am alone in my room reading books. I read a lot. I am alone at night every night. Jon works nights.
Don't get me wrong I love being alone at night. I get the whole bed. I get all the blankets, pillows are under every part of my body and I can eat, drink and read until my hearts content... until my hearts content.
HOLY CRAP!!! Until my hearts content...that is why I eat so much!! I want a content heart. Sure cheese doodles ARE tasty but are they as tasty as love and happiness and contentment. Nope.
I need contentment. How do you get it when you don't even know what makes me content anymore? What makes me at peace? What settles me down and gives me hope and passion and excitement? My family gives me some, I admit, but I am not defined as a mother, or a sister or any title. I am a woman with great intentions that wants to do the best she can from now on. Not live a half-life that is safe and lame. I want to live this life the best I can.
What I did learn from losing so many, is that life is short...get on with it. Do it the best you can.
I haven't been.
I sure the hell will now. Look out for some major changes in me. I feel it coming...
Total contentment!!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Finding Melanie
When I wrote the letter to my Mom I realized that although I haven't been able to go visit my mom, I should be able to go visit my sister.
Melanie was my little sister, she was born May 17, 1976. We lost her six months later.
I remember that day clearly. I asked my mom if I could go and check on Melanie, because she was mute we had to check if she was awake. I went into the bedroom and saw that her tubes where out of her throat. I ran to get my mom; she ran ahead of me and took Melanie into her arms. I can still remember her rocking her and begging her not to leave us.
Mom told me to get the neighbor and I ran as fast as my 3 year old legs could carry me. Bonnie dropped her laundry basket and ran past me to my mom. I was just walking into the house when I could hear my mom talking to 911 holding my sister in blankets, doing cpr. I remember being taken back to Bonnie's house and waiting by the window with Jason most of the day, waiting for Mom to come home with Melanie. Later that afternoon, I saw a car pull up and my mom got out of the passenger side, her hands over her face, looking stricken and sad. I ran to the door and Bonnie caught me, "Your mom and dad need a little time, right now. I will take you back in a little while." I went back to the window and stared at our house. What was going on in there? Why couldn't I be there? Where was Melanie?
I don't remember anything else. I don't remember the family coming, I don't remember the funeral, I was told Jason and I didn't attend. I don't remember the days that followed. Was my mom different? Was my dad? It bothers me I don't remember. I am sure things were different but to a three year old I guess I still got fed, I was still taken care of and loved so it didn't trigger any more memory.
I remember very little about her but have seen the pictures. Remember holding her while sitting on the couch with Mom close by, Jason asking for his turn. She was mute because the tubes they put into her throat to expand her lungs, had removed her voice box so she would never have spoken a word. She couldn’t' cry, she couldn't coo, but she could smile. She had my smile. :)
When we lost her we moved to Calgary from Lethbridge. We didn't speak about her and never went to her grave. My mom would answer any questions I had, but I didn't know enough to ask the right questions. I knew her birth date; I can guess her death date because I know she was 6 months old when she died so I am guessing in November sometime.
In 1997 when I lost Jason, I started searching for Melanie. I was told over the phone what plot she had and found out she was in an unmarked grave. I called my mom and she was shocked. I guess my dad’s old boss sent him to Calgary and told my dad he would take care of the gravestone. I guess he never did. My mom made sure she got a gravestone and I think her and Dad went there to see it. I’m not sure.
It bothers me that I had a sibling that I never really acknowledged. It bothers me that I never connected Melanie to me. My life probably changed when my parents lost Melanie, first we moved. I think we probably would have stayed in Lethbridge had she lived. Life would have gone in a different direction. We would all know sign language, Jason would have been a middle child, I would have a little sister to pick on. So maybe traumatize Jason less…(doubt it). It would be Jason, Melanie and I flying kites and getting in trouble together. Cool.
I called the cemetery and spoke with a very nice lady. I said I had a little sister and I was very young when I lost her, can you help me find her? She asked me her birthday date and name. I knew those. Melanie Chantelle Smith. May 17,1976.
"Ok I found her" she said. She gave me her plot number and her location site. It all seemed sorta lonely and sad, a lot number.
I found my sister. Now what? Do I go alone? Do I call my Dad and see if he wants to go with me?
No. I decided. I want, for the first time, to go with my new family. The people who are here as my family now. My older children, my friends, my new family.
I want to go on a road trip. We will rent a hotel. Have fun that Friday night, and on Saturday morning we will make our way over there.
We will find Melanie.
Together.
Then we will fly a kite with her. Just like I did with Jason. Just like I would have if she lived.
Melanie, your big sister is on her way.
I found you.
Melanie was my little sister, she was born May 17, 1976. We lost her six months later.
I remember that day clearly. I asked my mom if I could go and check on Melanie, because she was mute we had to check if she was awake. I went into the bedroom and saw that her tubes where out of her throat. I ran to get my mom; she ran ahead of me and took Melanie into her arms. I can still remember her rocking her and begging her not to leave us.
Mom told me to get the neighbor and I ran as fast as my 3 year old legs could carry me. Bonnie dropped her laundry basket and ran past me to my mom. I was just walking into the house when I could hear my mom talking to 911 holding my sister in blankets, doing cpr. I remember being taken back to Bonnie's house and waiting by the window with Jason most of the day, waiting for Mom to come home with Melanie. Later that afternoon, I saw a car pull up and my mom got out of the passenger side, her hands over her face, looking stricken and sad. I ran to the door and Bonnie caught me, "Your mom and dad need a little time, right now. I will take you back in a little while." I went back to the window and stared at our house. What was going on in there? Why couldn't I be there? Where was Melanie?
I don't remember anything else. I don't remember the family coming, I don't remember the funeral, I was told Jason and I didn't attend. I don't remember the days that followed. Was my mom different? Was my dad? It bothers me I don't remember. I am sure things were different but to a three year old I guess I still got fed, I was still taken care of and loved so it didn't trigger any more memory.
I remember very little about her but have seen the pictures. Remember holding her while sitting on the couch with Mom close by, Jason asking for his turn. She was mute because the tubes they put into her throat to expand her lungs, had removed her voice box so she would never have spoken a word. She couldn’t' cry, she couldn't coo, but she could smile. She had my smile. :)
When we lost her we moved to Calgary from Lethbridge. We didn't speak about her and never went to her grave. My mom would answer any questions I had, but I didn't know enough to ask the right questions. I knew her birth date; I can guess her death date because I know she was 6 months old when she died so I am guessing in November sometime.
In 1997 when I lost Jason, I started searching for Melanie. I was told over the phone what plot she had and found out she was in an unmarked grave. I called my mom and she was shocked. I guess my dad’s old boss sent him to Calgary and told my dad he would take care of the gravestone. I guess he never did. My mom made sure she got a gravestone and I think her and Dad went there to see it. I’m not sure.
It bothers me that I had a sibling that I never really acknowledged. It bothers me that I never connected Melanie to me. My life probably changed when my parents lost Melanie, first we moved. I think we probably would have stayed in Lethbridge had she lived. Life would have gone in a different direction. We would all know sign language, Jason would have been a middle child, I would have a little sister to pick on. So maybe traumatize Jason less…(doubt it). It would be Jason, Melanie and I flying kites and getting in trouble together. Cool.
I called the cemetery and spoke with a very nice lady. I said I had a little sister and I was very young when I lost her, can you help me find her? She asked me her birthday date and name. I knew those. Melanie Chantelle Smith. May 17,1976.
"Ok I found her" she said. She gave me her plot number and her location site. It all seemed sorta lonely and sad, a lot number.
I found my sister. Now what? Do I go alone? Do I call my Dad and see if he wants to go with me?
No. I decided. I want, for the first time, to go with my new family. The people who are here as my family now. My older children, my friends, my new family.
I want to go on a road trip. We will rent a hotel. Have fun that Friday night, and on Saturday morning we will make our way over there.
We will find Melanie.
Together.
Then we will fly a kite with her. Just like I did with Jason. Just like I would have if she lived.
Melanie, your big sister is on her way.
I found you.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Dear Mom
Dear Mom,
It has been 7 Mother's Days since I have been able to wish you a Happy Mother's Day. I didn't want another one to pass without you knowing how much you impacted my life.
This last 7 years has been difficult without you. The first year I had to get out of the habit of calling you everyday at work. I still know your work number by heart 403-258-22xx. I called you often because if I didn't you would panic because if I wasn't keeping in touch,I was doing something rash or making some type of mistake.
I remember on the third day after Aiden was born I picked up the phone and called your office because I wasn't feeling well and needed some advice, while it was ringing I realized, you weren't there, you weren't anywhere, and I cried. I didn't know what to do, I needed some help and couldn't call you. I suddenly decided to call Dad. You told me to trust him and he would help me and he did. He came over, brought medication and a breast pump ( I bet you were chuckling in heaven) and made sure I was fine. You were right again, even from there.
I want to thank you for being my mom. I think in Heaven, you somehow picked the short straw for a daughter. I was rebellious, headstrong, loud and messy. I loved to do things to make you get that wrinkle on your forehead. With patience and love you raised me to have a huge heart, give people second, third, fourth chances and most importantly you taught me to be strong and steadfast, both qualities that have kept me alive without you.
My children miss you very much. Christmas hasn’t been the same. I do try, very hard, but the magic you gave isn’t there. My children felt so treasured by you, Trevor could tell you everything; he knew you would lookout for him every time. Amanda remembers snacks at your house with talk and laughter, Melanie loved your back rubs and Emilee remembers doing puzzles and sitting by your side watching TV while you did cross- stitch. They only have beautiful memories of a lovely Grandma.
My two children that came after you went home are told all about you, they know you love them and that you are with them now. Rebecca tells me all the time she loves living in her Grandma and Grandpa’s home. Aiden looks at your pictures and tells people “That is my Grandma!” I give them amazing Christmas memories and make sure that I pass down the magic.
Mom.
Thank you for that magic, for loving me, for loving my dad, for understanding us better then we understood each other. I wish you didn’t have to leave, but because you left us Dad and I had to figure it out. We love each other the best we can. We are trying to communicate; we have had to settle our own fights; we celebrate yours and Jason’s lives together, we are all we have left of our family, and we both know it. We won’t quit trying; we are both keeping our promise to you.
I haven’t been to the cemetery since your funeral. It’s hard for me, because both of you are there. I can’t face the loss right now. I am getting there. I hope you know I don't have to be there to think of you and Jason. I do that everyday. Everytime I hold my children and love them, I think of you and how you taught me how to do that. I think of how much you have taught me about life and love and loss. You were a pillar of strength and I have that too now.
I will take care of this family, of dad, of your house. I will keep them all full of love, laughter and strength.
I hope that I am making you proud of me. I really wanted to do that before you left but I never got the chance. I am healing, I am proud of myself for once in my life. I am making good choices and I have grown up. I know you loved me and knew I could do this. Thanks for believing in me then.
I feel you in our house. I know your there taking care of my family...of me. I miss your voice, your smell and all the physical things that I can't have now, but knowing your there helps me. I think that is why I am healing.
Happy Mother's Day Mom,
Love always,
Raquel
It has been 7 Mother's Days since I have been able to wish you a Happy Mother's Day. I didn't want another one to pass without you knowing how much you impacted my life.
This last 7 years has been difficult without you. The first year I had to get out of the habit of calling you everyday at work. I still know your work number by heart 403-258-22xx. I called you often because if I didn't you would panic because if I wasn't keeping in touch,I was doing something rash or making some type of mistake.
I remember on the third day after Aiden was born I picked up the phone and called your office because I wasn't feeling well and needed some advice, while it was ringing I realized, you weren't there, you weren't anywhere, and I cried. I didn't know what to do, I needed some help and couldn't call you. I suddenly decided to call Dad. You told me to trust him and he would help me and he did. He came over, brought medication and a breast pump ( I bet you were chuckling in heaven) and made sure I was fine. You were right again, even from there.
I want to thank you for being my mom. I think in Heaven, you somehow picked the short straw for a daughter. I was rebellious, headstrong, loud and messy. I loved to do things to make you get that wrinkle on your forehead. With patience and love you raised me to have a huge heart, give people second, third, fourth chances and most importantly you taught me to be strong and steadfast, both qualities that have kept me alive without you.
My children miss you very much. Christmas hasn’t been the same. I do try, very hard, but the magic you gave isn’t there. My children felt so treasured by you, Trevor could tell you everything; he knew you would lookout for him every time. Amanda remembers snacks at your house with talk and laughter, Melanie loved your back rubs and Emilee remembers doing puzzles and sitting by your side watching TV while you did cross- stitch. They only have beautiful memories of a lovely Grandma.
My two children that came after you went home are told all about you, they know you love them and that you are with them now. Rebecca tells me all the time she loves living in her Grandma and Grandpa’s home. Aiden looks at your pictures and tells people “That is my Grandma!” I give them amazing Christmas memories and make sure that I pass down the magic.
Mom.
Thank you for that magic, for loving me, for loving my dad, for understanding us better then we understood each other. I wish you didn’t have to leave, but because you left us Dad and I had to figure it out. We love each other the best we can. We are trying to communicate; we have had to settle our own fights; we celebrate yours and Jason’s lives together, we are all we have left of our family, and we both know it. We won’t quit trying; we are both keeping our promise to you.
I haven’t been to the cemetery since your funeral. It’s hard for me, because both of you are there. I can’t face the loss right now. I am getting there. I hope you know I don't have to be there to think of you and Jason. I do that everyday. Everytime I hold my children and love them, I think of you and how you taught me how to do that. I think of how much you have taught me about life and love and loss. You were a pillar of strength and I have that too now.
I will take care of this family, of dad, of your house. I will keep them all full of love, laughter and strength.
I hope that I am making you proud of me. I really wanted to do that before you left but I never got the chance. I am healing, I am proud of myself for once in my life. I am making good choices and I have grown up. I know you loved me and knew I could do this. Thanks for believing in me then.
I feel you in our house. I know your there taking care of my family...of me. I miss your voice, your smell and all the physical things that I can't have now, but knowing your there helps me. I think that is why I am healing.
Happy Mother's Day Mom,
Love always,
Raquel
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Stupid Fear
I have been doing a lot of reading about fear lately and how to overcome it.
A very interesting thing that I have discovered is that everyone we know has fears. From the confident cool and collected to the fluffy, flawed and funny we are all afraid of something.
A common fear we all have is the fear of disapproval.. It's weird that I worry so much about approval. I guess I have lived with so little of it that I crave it now. I just want to do the right thing so much that I panic when I think I am doing something wrong. I think everyone craves approval, acceptance, love and peace. I crave it so much sometimes I lay at night plotting how to work harder at being more loving, more accepting, and bringing more peace to everyone's existence. I want to make sure that no one ever feels sad or alone on my watch. Of course with me being so busy with my family, my job, my passions and friends I constantly feel like I am letting someone down, and that scares me.
My biggest fear is being alone again. That fear has been the root cause of my most rash decisions. I fear being alone so much I had a huge family so that the odds of me or them, ever being without someone is zero. I fear being alone so much I am obsessed with being someone worth loving so they won't leave me. I constantly try hard to be approved of and loved that I exhaust myself.
I help everyone I can.
I even help the ones that hate me. I take insults with a smile so they won't feel bad, I have allowed people to do some pretty heinous things to me. There are people out there that I know hate me but I still try to make them not hate me by doing something kind for them. Take G for instance, my ex. I found out he was going to have a baby and even though he has indicated over and over again that he hates me by doing horrible things to me I gathered all my son's baby clothes, washed them, folded them and gave them to him. I thought that if I did something kind to him...maybe ...just maybe he won't hate me anymore. I was wrong. That same day our daughter told him she wanted to move in with me because she needed her mom as guidance while she grew up and he said that I am not the type of woman that should be anyone's mentor. I sure felt foolish when I heard that.
Yesterday I was terrified. I now know that G can read this blog. I felt exposed and scared. So far, I have been lucky to have only supportive and kind people read this blog so I felt I could be honest and real and raw about my life. With having someone that hates me reading this, I thought I would never be able to be honest and brave on here again. Having someone that hates you is hard enough, but having him read you inner most pains and triumphs is very terrifying. He could use it against me, he has a direct tap into my life and that is terrifying but... I have to do this.
You can't hate me for being flawed. If you want to use it against me then you are someone that should sit down and write a blog about being horrible and why.
Love me or hate me I am doing what is best for me. I have a life I want to explore and I will do so with a free conscience. I will not hold back because it might hurt feelings, I won't allow anyone to bully or scare me into taking away my freedom to speak the truth. If they are not at a place of personal truth, then that is fine, I understand, but don't take it away from someone that needs answers.
I won't write this with fear.
I write this with love, acceptance, approval and peace.
For myself.
A very interesting thing that I have discovered is that everyone we know has fears. From the confident cool and collected to the fluffy, flawed and funny we are all afraid of something.
A common fear we all have is the fear of disapproval.. It's weird that I worry so much about approval. I guess I have lived with so little of it that I crave it now. I just want to do the right thing so much that I panic when I think I am doing something wrong. I think everyone craves approval, acceptance, love and peace. I crave it so much sometimes I lay at night plotting how to work harder at being more loving, more accepting, and bringing more peace to everyone's existence. I want to make sure that no one ever feels sad or alone on my watch. Of course with me being so busy with my family, my job, my passions and friends I constantly feel like I am letting someone down, and that scares me.
My biggest fear is being alone again. That fear has been the root cause of my most rash decisions. I fear being alone so much I had a huge family so that the odds of me or them, ever being without someone is zero. I fear being alone so much I am obsessed with being someone worth loving so they won't leave me. I constantly try hard to be approved of and loved that I exhaust myself.
I help everyone I can.
I even help the ones that hate me. I take insults with a smile so they won't feel bad, I have allowed people to do some pretty heinous things to me. There are people out there that I know hate me but I still try to make them not hate me by doing something kind for them. Take G for instance, my ex. I found out he was going to have a baby and even though he has indicated over and over again that he hates me by doing horrible things to me I gathered all my son's baby clothes, washed them, folded them and gave them to him. I thought that if I did something kind to him...maybe ...just maybe he won't hate me anymore. I was wrong. That same day our daughter told him she wanted to move in with me because she needed her mom as guidance while she grew up and he said that I am not the type of woman that should be anyone's mentor. I sure felt foolish when I heard that.
Yesterday I was terrified. I now know that G can read this blog. I felt exposed and scared. So far, I have been lucky to have only supportive and kind people read this blog so I felt I could be honest and real and raw about my life. With having someone that hates me reading this, I thought I would never be able to be honest and brave on here again. Having someone that hates you is hard enough, but having him read you inner most pains and triumphs is very terrifying. He could use it against me, he has a direct tap into my life and that is terrifying but... I have to do this.
You can't hate me for being flawed. If you want to use it against me then you are someone that should sit down and write a blog about being horrible and why.
Love me or hate me I am doing what is best for me. I have a life I want to explore and I will do so with a free conscience. I will not hold back because it might hurt feelings, I won't allow anyone to bully or scare me into taking away my freedom to speak the truth. If they are not at a place of personal truth, then that is fine, I understand, but don't take it away from someone that needs answers.
I won't write this with fear.
I write this with love, acceptance, approval and peace.
For myself.
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