does he love me? does he love me not?

i caught myself again. falling for the wrong guy. obsessing over how he was perfect. when he was anything but.

i assumed when he knew all these things about me, it was because he was interested. when he told me to hang out and have a beer with him, it was because he liked my company.

sure, there are two sides to every story…and exceptions to every rule…but if he was interested, he’d prove it…right? so when i came back from my 5 mile run and my friend was proud of how hard i worked, he said it looked like i ran through the sprinklers. thanks dude. and when he’s had every chance in the world to be nice to me and hasn’t…then it’s time to realize, yea, he’s just not into me.

so eff you dude. eff you for acting like you were into me and leaving me high and dry. eff you for kissing me and never asking for my number. for thinking i just wanted to hook up with you and when i didn’t do that, pretending like you never knew me. eff you for not pursuing me because i’m worth pursuing.

because a man who’s into a woman will leave no place for her to doubt.

xox.

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honest conversations.

so lately i have been finding myself having honest conversations.

i am not sure what spurred it or when it came about, but i’ve noticed the last few people i’ve had a chat with, whether i know them well or not, i’ve been honest and open about life. it’s insanely refreshing. i feel like opening up about sh*t and not feeling like it’s taboo or you have to hide it in the corners of your head, releases that control it has over you.

just this week i opened up about the battle i had with depression and anxiety. and how life worked itself out and how i changed because of it and it triggered so much real talk. and it gave people who have gone through something similar to pipe up and say, “me too.” it gave us a connection. people who seemingly would have nothing in common, instantly shared a life issue.

i’m tired of hiding my past. it’s made me into who i am. it’s made me resilient and strong and forced me to fight for something better. i don’t need to play the victim. it happened. it’s a great comeback story. sometimes life sucks, but i promise it gets better. it isn’t always rainbows and butterflies, but when the first glimmer of sun shines out, you learn to be grateful like never before.

so i’ll keep this short but sweet, but be real, be honest. we’re all going through things and somedays, you’ll be surprised at the people who will understand more than anyone else. give people a chance to show up for you. be open about who you are. let life surprise you every once in a while.

xox.

smitten.

there are some things about me you should know. when i fall, i fall fast. i don’t really do the whole dating thing, my relationships usually go from first date to relationship real fast. and i’ve been in a serious love drought since my last relationship over a year ago.

so when i saw him on saturday, i sort of knew i might be in trouble. but played it off like i normally do while observing from just far enough away.

in the past, i’ve been one to force relationships. force a connection. force a conversation.

so when the chemistry between us was overflowing on saturday evening and i leaned over and kissed him and he kissed me right back, a little fire in my heart ignited. the rest of the evening was much of the same. canoodling, flirting, kissing. but knowing the flirtation could be blamed on the wine, it was left right there. instead of trying to track him down the next day, i let it be and reminded myself, if he wants to talk to me, he will. hours later i found he had messaged me that morning 🙂

since then i’ve been a bit smitten. a little giddy chatting back and forth with this new guy. half of me wants to hold on tight and wants him to be mine for the summer…half of me says let go and stop. and then there’s a part of me that hopes he continues to pursue me and makes it simple on me.

either way, even if it was just for a few days, it felt nice to be wanted again.

xox.

oxnard.

i’ve been fighting these words and feeling these feelings. but maybe it’s time to write them down.

last week, my sister and i got in a fight. a big fight. a fight that left me heart broken. and confused. and hurt.

most of the time, i’m the first to apologize. maybe it’s the older sister in me. or the fear of someone hating me. or the fact that i hate unresolved issues. like the time she lost it and threw me out of her house. i was the first to say something. i poured my heart out to her. yet here we are. 4 months later. and i feel the same all over again. but i know i did nothing wrong. and this time instead of sweeping it away and pretending it’s ok…i am looking out for me.

my heart hurts. after this fight i realized it was identical to almost every break up i’ve had. how sad and devastating is that? i blame myself for a lot. and that’s just what she’s doing…blaming me for things i have no control over.

but it doesn’t effect her like it effects me. it doesn’t send her in a down whirl spiral. it doesn’t cause her to beat herself up…mentally and physically. it doesn’t cause her to hate what she sees in the mirror — on the inside and the out. to have a voice inside berate her…to feel like the most disgusting human being…to feel like an ugly, disgusting person. to want to run away…to anywhere else. to fuck everything and be mad at the world. to not want to have to fake a smile. no. she doesn’t get it.

and i’ve been avoiding writing it or dealing with it. because honestly, i never have. because my fear of losing my sister is bigger. because i let it go. me and my big mouth let what is bothering me the most go. and she forgets what she said, how she acted and what she did and begins complaining about the next thing.

i won’t let people like that in my world. i can’t let her continue to do this. and i know she doesn’t get it. and never will. and it hurts too that she doesn’t try.

and what am i to do. i don’t like the way she treats me when he’s around. i don’t like how she treats me like i’m not as good as her…i don’t like how she’s so defensive…i don’t like how she goes from zero to sixty instead of being rational. and i don’t know how to move forward with her this time.

abusive relationships.

i am a strong woman.

physically. emotionally. spiritually.

if you asked me to list adjectives to describe me, STRONG would be in the top five.

i’m 5’11. i work out a lot. i have a big personality. i’m opinionated.

so when i tell you that i’ve been in a physically abusive relationship, that should shock you.

and sadly, i still don’t even know how to talk about it.

thanks to a little alcohol, i’ve slowly, one year or so later, opened up to some of my closest friends about being physically abused by my ex.

it rained today. and we planned to go wine tasting. just like we had that day…months ago. when i was dating him. when i loved him. when he was the center of my world. when he slammed me to the ground and i rose bleeding. and with tears in my eyes and a laugh in my voice and i convinced him it wasn’t his fault. it was definitely his fault. to this day, i can’t say that out loud. why? why do i blame myself. for being clumsy or my stupid shoes…why can’t i just admit it was him and his doing. and he knew it. and thats why he continued to freak out about it. the scar on my knee will forever be there thanks to my ex.

and that night we broke up. when the police came. when he put his hands on me. when i had to cover the bruises for the week to follow. and when he claimed to not even realize he touched me let alone hurt me.

how was i that girl? that woman? the strong female who was in a situation where a man could physically hurt her? i hate that part about me. i hate him. but i still hate that there was some part of me that loved such a person who could do that to me. someone who could tear down every ounce of me and make me insanely vulnerable to the point where they could actually hurt me.

to this day one of my biggest regrets is not reporting him to the police. when i sat there crying, bawling to the police and spelling my last name, i absolutely hate that I didn’t turn him in then and there. i hate that three days later when i was covering the bruises that i didn’t turn him in. i hate that about myself. and i hate that about him. and hopefully for my sake, i get over that. but i promise you and me that will never ever happen again.

in working on moving past this and forgiving myself, i will be volunteering for a group that helps with domestic and sexual assault. i couldn’t be more excited to get started as i think i need to feel good in my soul over this and start mending the past.

xox.

My happy looks different than yours. And that’s ok.

Yesterday as my sister and I were driving down the 210, tears began flowing from my eyes. Real tears. And lots of them. And suddenly my happiness bubble shattered. The weight of society and the rest of the world meticulously found a pin to burst my bubble. And burst it they did.

Tears. Because I’m in my 30s and single. Because I’m in my 30s and don’t make “a lot” of money. Because I’m in my 30s and don’t own a house…or have a dog…or a Mercedes…or a vacation rental. Because I don’t have kids. Because I’m not a size two or conventionally beautiful. Oh so many tears.

And I don’t know what was worst, the fact that those things on my good days NEVER make me feel sad or upset but rather empower me and make me feel badass. Or the fact that it was all true…

Let me rewind. Last Thursday, I was hit by a ton of bricks by something simple that jolted my soul without me realizing it (until the tears were flowing on the freeway). It doesn’t really matter what it was that was said but it kind of jolted me to my core…it definitely jolted me to my core. And then I began questioning everything I love.

I have worked my ass off my whole life. I have lived more than most. And I have enough stories and life experiences to fill a book. I love…or shall I say, loved, my life so much because I have literally been to hell in back in more ways than one. I have failed. Oh, I have failed so many times. And I’ve had to pack my bags and start fresh on countless occasions. Not because I am bad or dumb but because I’ve lived…and I’ve learned, oh have I learned! And all of those life lessons and experiences and relationships have helped make me who I am today. And today, I appreciate so much the life I now have and have somehow constructed. I love where I live. I adore my job. I am blessed to work for a company that allows me to be exactly me. I have always dreamed of living in the city I live in. I’m normally obsessed with the greatness of my life. That my weeks are filled with work I am passionate about and social gatherings and runs and hikes and trips to the beach and wine and laughter. And what makes me so unique and tick is that I don’t usually get where I’m going in life the conventional way. I’m a late bloomer, I take the road less travelled, but that’s what makes the journey so valuable and the end point becomes even more coveted. Which is why I am so upset that this one thing started eating away at me consciously and subconsciously. Why was I so easily being torn apart over this…

Money has never defined me, seriously. When I tell you I absolutely adore my job because I can be exactly who I am, it’s true. I’ve had jobs before that all I wanted to do was climb to the top and completely throw myself into work 15 hours a day…and I hated my life; I hated myself; and I hated that I had no friends. Finally finding a spot where I have just literally found my family and can geek out on things I love is invaluable in my eyes. And that’s the absolute truth. When you’ve been somewhere you hate and work for someone you don’t respect and cry at the idea of going back to work…that’s when you know the difference between what is right or wrong for you. And that’s why it’s so easy to show up every day excited and with a smile on your face.

Then, as far as relationships, yes I would love to find the right guy and be so sickening in love with him. No I am not a man hater. I often correct my mom and married sister when they generalize that “all men are jerks” to remind them that no, there are great men out there. I am looking forward to meeting one. But I also refuse to compromise and settle. After several detrimental and abusive relationships, I get that I have a pattern of finding the wrong guys for me. So this time around I am going to be cautious. And at the moment, being on my own and single actually does make me happy because I am not relying on someone else to make me smile. I’m not relying on a guy who can’t even be happy on his own to tear me down while I fester and try to build him back up…I’m not waiting for a guy that won’t even value me enough to treat me like someone special. And at this point in my world, I also know how life works for me. When the right person is meant to be in my life, he will show up and I won’t have to force it. I am going to value myself next time, so he has to as well. Period. So why was I instantly convinced my value as a human dropped because I’m not in a serious relationship or engaged or married…Why did it hurt me so much to see my own sister has a wedding board for me on Pinterest, but I don’t because that’s just not who I am.

Why is this festering in my mind. Why at 3 am was I wide awake thinking if I was worth more and if anyone would value me as so?

I’d be lying if I told you I have it all sorted back out in my head. I don’t. I wish I did. Because I’ve been in a funk and a bit sad about it all. Somedays I think if I had all those things, maybe it would be easier…maybe I would be happy…maybe I should try harder to get there…but honestly, maybe I would hate my life.

I’m normally the cheerleader in your life that reminds you how badass you are. How beautiful your soul is and how amazing your spirit is. Some days, I even believe that about myself. But this one deflated me more than I thought it would. And I’m working on getting back there. So this week I focus inwardly on figuring my head back out. Finding things I am thankful and grateful for. Going out of my way to do the things I love for me and only for me. Giving back to others. Smiling more. Enjoying the little things. And trying to not give a sh*t what anyone else in the world thinks because as long as it makes me happy, that’s enough.

And just because all those things aren’t for me right now in my life, doesn’t mean they aren’t for you. Do what makes you happy. Find what makes your soul shine and do that. And the people who love you and genuinely get you will totally understand that and want nothing but that for you and they won’t push you to be someone or something you aren’t.

While I haven’t figured it all out, I’ll leave you with this…

“Happy are they who take life day by day, complain very little, and are thankful for the little things in life.”

and…”The world is going to judge you no matter what you do. So live your life the way you f*cking want to.”

xx

 

guilt.

I was thinking about how I want to structure my posts and well, I can be very unstructured in life…so I see this going no differently! Although earlier today when I felt one of those pangs of guilt, it made realize I a) wanted to write about it, and get it out and b) possibly could have a word that effected me in one way or another, positive or negative, to write on when I come to write here. We will see.

So today’s word is guilt.

I wish I could pinpoint the origins of this one. Maybe if I psychoanalyze myself a bit more, it will come. But until that happens, let it be known I deal with large amounts of guilt on my worst days and small pangs of it even on the best of days. Mainly the words “I feel bad” come out of my mouth when wanting to turn something down or not attending an event. But it usually goes much deeper than that.

The root of it is, really I just want to please everyone. And there’s no way that actually can happen on a day to day basis. So why do I care what everyone thinks? That might be another topic for another day.

Today, I got an email from my father. Let’s just say we aren’t the closest. I don’t not have a relationship with him but I can’t say I’d ever turn to him when in dire need of help. He didn’t get invited to my sister’s wedding, he hasn’t met her husband, and I see him mainly because I feel…you guessed it, GUILTY. There’s all sorts of family drama and dynamics that help explain that one, but that’s not my point right now. Back to the email. Yesterday, the Monday morning after the biggest professional tournament of the year, my father emails me asking for a “favor.” Long story short, his friends needs help with his order that went wrong. (Can I just say here that somedays I think everyone knows I will do anything to help them out and most days I can’t say “no;” a real flaw, I know.) So I stop working on my stuff to take a look and try and sort things out and help. Well, I’m not going to lie, he was overstepping his boundaries and asking me to do something for someone who wasn’t him and for me to overstep my position. And on a busy monday, it was frustrating. So I stupidly vented to my mom. A nice 7 lined text followed by a “sorry for the Monday vent.” She got it and said he was wrong and it was done. Until I got said email today, from him, apologizing for overstepping. Now most people would be great with that. But all I feel is guilt because I know my mom told my dad it was wrong. And then he apologized. Trust me…down the way we will get into the parental drama and such. But I feel bad my Dad got yelled at because of me.

There is a lot of guilt I have around my family. When my Mom is feeling down and wants me to visit and it’s a 6 hour one way drive and a weekend at the beach with friends just seems easier than taking a day off work to spend half a day in the car. Ugh even typing that makes me want to erase it because I feel bad saying it! It’s nothing new for people to experience these emotions or feelings. But I need to realize I am solely in charge of myself and I need to stop letting others make me feel a way I don’t want to feel. I can’t please everyone. I need to continue to work on my own happiness.

I don’t have the answers. And sadly, I’m running out on my hours in the day. So with that I leave you. Do more of what makes you happy. Don’t give an eff what the others think. Be unapologetically you!

xox.

 

life.

I’m excited to get the ball rolling. Entry one has been added and I feel like I have freedom to write what I want from here on out.

While I struggle most days to find enough hours in the day, I think this will be an important task I will want to find time for. Because four years ago…my blog was what kept me going.

Now, why should you listen to me? Well…I’m not saying you should. But I’ve lived life and experienced a whole helluva a lot. A lot more than I think most have. And here’s what I know and what I can expand on…Life is amazing. Yes, it does eventually all make sense and even the darkest times do have a light at the end of the tunnel. You may feel alone, but you aren’t. Some days suck…for no reason at all. People can be assholes. Some days are amazing…for no reason at all, but you just find yourself smiling and laughing and in it. Some people will always get it. Several never will. The people who are there through the ups and downs are your tribe. Don’t open up to everyone, most people don’t care. Life is too short not to be living it how you want. Do what you love, no matter what it is. No man ever has the right to abuse the woman he claims to care about — mentally, physically or emotionally. Hate and jealousy is an ugly emotion. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. Dreams do come true but sometimes dreams change. March to the beat of your own drum. No one said it would be easy. Enjoy every minute of your world. Life is short, tell the people you love that you care about them. You are worth it. Life is a balance. Nothing toxic comes from genuine love. You never know who you are inspiring.

I could go on 🙂 and I will…

You could say four years ago I hit rock bottom. Ironically enough, now looking back…I probably hit it before…although thought I was downward spiralling when in actuality, I may have been rebounding back.

Four years ago, I hated myself. I was lost. I literally cried every day. I had just moved home with my mom after my contract wasn’t renewed and I was lied to and I lost my “dream job.” I had no friends (granted, I had no friends in albuquerque either so this wasnt new). My emotionally abusive narcissistic ex boyfriend broke up with me after saying he would do anything to move to be with me. I was fat and hadn’t worked out (like seriously worked out, sure 30 minutes on the elliptical here and there) in years. I had no passion. I had no direction. I was sad. Every day was painful.

Now I have to preface this story ALWAYS by saying thank GOD for my support system. Which consists of my mom and my sister. No joke, without those two, there is no way I’d be where I am today. I may not even be here…let alone living my dreams.

That being said, thankfully my Mom had found a gym she loved and saw results at and dragged me along. Me, being cloudy and foggy and angry at the world was convinced it was dumb because after all, I had been a top athlete and could have been a pro tennis player and they couldn’t train me. Little did I realize I had been abusing my body for years and hadnt actually consistently worked since I had stopped competing several years ago. For some reason, I was convinced that as a D1 tennis coach, working out only was necessary for the players. Did I mention my then boyfriend tried to snap me out of that by letting me know I was “fat” and “should go to the gym?!”

So, at 29 years old I found myself unemployed, overweight and living with my Mom…far from any dream I had ever dreamt. I had been diagnosed with “severe depression and anxiety” months before and was on one of the heaviest, legal doses of anti-depressants (which after doing extensive research, I learned would be a bitch to ween myself off). I struggled almost daily with self harm. So much so that every time I had an incident, my Mom made me promise her I’d never do it again. I never could make that promise. And each time it got worst. But it took some of the pain away from my head…it made no sense logically…but in my world, I deserved it and I hated myself that much.

So, I did what any other person in my shoes would do. I threw myself into the gym and got to sweating. Yes, the story goes I definitely almost puked doing burpees outside on day 1. God, I had no idea how out of shape I had gotten. And as I applied to every tennis job under the sun, I quickly realized I was in a bad spot and life wasn’t working out. I flew all over the country for interviews just to be “runner up” due to political reasons. The more rejections, the worst I felt…the more time I spent at the gym. Finally, I was bored with it all and began my blog.

Back then, my day literally consisted of going to the gym. Getting coffee. Applying to jobs. Blogging.

Now if you know me today, you have to question this. My schedule today looks something like this — wake up at 6am go to work, hit the gym, play some tennis, work a bit more, go to the beach, get a 5k run in, quick trip to the store, make some dinner, watch a show and bed. Throw in softball games, hikes, 6am 10k runs, volleyball, game nights, concerts, friday nights (say what? yes! I now have a thriving social life!), etc. Like I said, I need more hours in the day!

So what happened in those months. Honestly…for six months I cried a lot. I felt hopeless and sorry for myself. There were many days when I came home and lost it. One day in particular stands out. Maybe I self abused, maybe I didn’t that day. But what I remember was crying and being in so much pain and I said, “Nothing in this world will ever make THIS make sense.” And I believed it. *SPOILER ALERT* Something in this world made it all make sense. And I tear up just writing that. Because honestly, despite always having goals and dreams, I don’t think I ever saw myself where I am today…and maybe that was part of the problem…maybe I never believed enough or maybe I didn’t have enough faith. But I remember on my 30th birthday saying, wow…it all does make sense and it was all worth it and I couldn’t be more thankful for my journey and my struggle if this is where it led me and it makes me so insanely grateful and thankful for every day before me.

I feel like there are so many little stories within a story. And my head is a big jumble of it all. And while some of it really isn’t valid, it all leads me to here.

And I haven’t even hit on why I wanted to start writing again.

I work for a company that is in a word…amazing. They have taken me in like their own and I’m a part of the family. My position allows me to be and thrive as who I am. And my opinion is valued. Like people all over the world actually care about what I have to say about things and value it and even lean on it! With that said, naming myself as a quasi celeb in the tennis world is outright ridiculous. But…truth be told, that’s kind of what we are. As I type, our newest video was uploaded just an hour or two ago and quickly is gaining comments by the minute and will have over 1,000 views by midnight…it’s slightly daunting. With that being said, there are people in this world who suck. Who are insecure and instead of dealing with it, pull other people down. There are some real assholes out there. And lately, those assholes have been getting in my head.

I’ve been called fat. A bitch. A beast. Huge. Ugly. “She has the most talent but is the fattest player I’ve ever seen.” Chubby. Chunky. You name it…I’ve been called it. Most recently I’ve been told I need to stop eating ben and jerrys and that my workouts clearly arent working.

Yea…that shit stays with you. It’s easy for anyone to say those people are just straight up losers or assholes, but that doesn’t erase their words.

So in all honestly, I’ve been noticing that I have been relapsing mentally a bit the past year…that sounds vague. I’ve been dealing with a lot of internal voices and trying to fall in love with the person I am, inside and out. Long story short, I’ve always dealt with disordered eating and body dysmorphia. Ironically, as I dug up some old blog entries, I had documented that at the age of 7 I wrote New Year’s resolutions about “losing weight,” “snacking healthier,” and “exercising more.” At 7.

About a year and a half ago, I met my weight goal I had set. A weight I hadn’t seen since I was 18 when I was spending 4 hours on the court, an hour in the gym and consuming maybe 1000 calories. However, this time when that weight showed on the scale, I had something to go with it — strong, powerful legs that could carry me miles, broad shoulders that could work for hours lifting in the gym, a core that has tightened and experiences that mentally and physically made me stronger.

But, lately, I can’t finish the day unless I’ve sweated through 2 sports bras. My goal weight that I hit is way in the past and I have a new number I’m working toward. Despite dropping well over several sizes in clothes, I want more. So, I’ve always been a hard worker in life and that’s how I go about conquering things. That means, two a days are a norm for me. I spend an hour in the gym and then either another hour on the court and/or an hour or so running or hiking. I try to eat as paleo as possible and as clean as I can most days. I avoid simple carbs, I couldn’t tell you the last time I had a sandwich, I claim not to eat bread…or pasta…I refuse to have flour or sugar in my cabinets. I avoid the bad stuff as much as humanly possible. And after all that, I hate to admit it…but I still don’t like my body. It’s a struggle. And when I have strangers, or people I know make comments about my body, it really doesn’t hurt and I’m desperately searching in my mind for the next thing I can do to somehow “look” fitter, skinnier, better.

I could go on and on about this topic, and I will. It no doubt haunts me on a daily basis. I am consumed with when and what I will do for my workouts and what and when I can eat…it sucks. Somedays I want to give it up, but I refuse to ever go back to someone who weighted well over 250 lbs and thought then she was still an athlete. I am the leanest and strongest I have ever been and I refuse to give up the fight to get leaner and stronger, just some days it isn’t healthy and some days it sucks and some days it’s exhausting, but some days aren’t bad and some days I am proud of myself. But with each day, I know the battle I’m going against and am working on righting my wrongs and making peace with what God has given me to work with. And one day I will find myself to be beautiful. Until then, I will keep moving forward and allowing myself to be human and keep working on being better with each passing day.

I’ll just leave all of that right here for now.

xox

Here I go again…

I’ve recently been re-inspired to start writing again. There are a hundred reasons why I enjoy writing. But most recently, I’ve found the need to get things out there. To talk about things bothering me as I want to release them from my head and leave them here. In doing so, maybe someone out there will relate or not feel as alone. So here we go…

I had a blog several years ago but haven’t maintained it in well over 3 years. So I’m starting fresh. And while I don’t want this topic to really be my first post on my new blog, I do find the desperate need to let go of this story I haven’t spoken out loud about. For whatever reason, I’ve been scared to open up about this issue (and the many more I will be writing on), but suddenly I feel inspired and empowered to give my point of view in life. On Friday, after a glass (or two) of wine, I was sitting with my friends and it started to come up, which made me realize I need to stop the conversation in my head and let it go. So let’s do this.

About a year ago, I was physically abused by my then boyfriend. There, I said it. That wasn’t so hard. Now that I look back, there were several incidents that lead up to this one — the time he yanked on my arm so hard, I feel to the ground, blood gushing from 3 spots on my knee. Or the time he was so upset, he went into the garage to beat the shit out of his punching bag. I should have known. Now, did he beat the crap out of me? No…but does that make my experience less real? Were the bruises up and down my arms easier to hide because I didn’t have a black eye? And why do I still blame myself for it? Maybe it’s because no one would ever believe me if I said it out loud. Maybe it’s because in the past I was told I would have to be careful with physical abuse as each of my relationships grew in abuse. Maybe it’s because it feels like it was my fault.

So there it is. And it still is a heavy burden I carry. When his name comes up or I see him crossing the parking lot, my heart drops. It hurst to hear his name come up because all I want to do is tell people what he did to me. But I can’t. And I won’t. So I will leave it here in hopes that I can let this go and be ok.

When people don’t understand why I’m ok with being single, this is why. I am not good in relationships. I am the worst version of myself. And until I find someone I can be the best version of myself with, I will continue to work on me. Because rebuilding from the pain and abuse is a tough journey. And I think I’m done making those mistakes. So with each day, I try to appreciate myself more…knowing that someone out there will eventually do the same.

One day I might get into more of the meat. And talk about the time the man I loved and cared about looked me in the eyes to tell me he “didn’t love me” and probably never would. But for now, that’s all I needed to say. And I hope I don’t need to say it again.

xox.