In my young adult years, I had a hard time being seen for who I was.
I was always identified by where I grew up, whose sister I was or who I hung out with. Although I loved those aspects of myself, I was more.
As years went on, I had to make choices for my happiness. Choices often opposite of what I thought was expected of me. That meant becoming vulnerable to change and criticism.
That shift came with a yearning to experience more of what life had to offer. I began to look outside the walls put in place by others and myself to live a life God wanted me to live.
I began to capture these experiences in my writing. This became a way for me to purge, process and heal.
This blog is that journey and it continues. A journey full of love, tears, pride and lots of laughs.
Thanks for joining me.
Maybe Not As Easy As I Thought
On March 24, my brain began to create a plan of transition and I wrote down all pros and cons for me to look at and consider. While absorbing the lists, a signal was sent to my brain to create a timeline. That plan also included the possibility of my husband and I living separately for six months.
Returning A Changed Person
A few weekends ago, I returned to my home church to participate in a pop-up shop. The event was a vendor show celebrating Mother’s Day hosted by the church’s United Women in Faith unit. It has been a tradition for this event to happen once or twice a year.
I was invited to have a space to display and sell my aprons. I was happy to do so. For months I had been sewing many aprons with the fabric I had on hand. So, I didn’t have much to do to get ready, but to show up in Cincinnati.
No, I Don't Want Your Jewelry
When my father passed away, I remember loading my Ford Edge with suits, hats, coats, and sweaters to donate to a clothing ministry in Columbus. These were only a fraction of the items from his closet.
Considering all the material items left being by our loved ones when they pass, I ask a question and confirm a fact, “How do we collect so much stuff to be left behind? And, “All that stuff means nothing compared to the chance to talk with that person one more time.”