The Escape

You don't have to hide a black eye under layers of makeup.  You don't have to live with emotional scars from sexual assault or misconduct.  You don't have to appear to be a victim, in any physical sense, to those who know you best for it to be real.

32% of women that find themselves in an abusive relationship, end that relationship in less than a year.  That number is sadly very low, and I now know why.  Abuse is a monster that wears many costumes and shows up in people you would never expect to see it from.  When it begins to happen to you and you find yourself trapped in a horrible situation, it feels impossible to get out.

Let me tell you what abuse looks like...
It is spending hours curling your hair and doing your make up, in hopes that maybe just maybe he will say something nice to you.  It is getting dressed up and spending the holiday with his family.  It is standing beside him in a picture and smiling, even though your eyes are black and you feel dead inside.  It is craving affection and physical touch and being denied all of it from your person.  It is feeling silenced and not speaking of the humiliation he constantly puts you through to others because you are embarrassed.  It is seeing your children suffer due to horrible words and character assassination from the hands of another.  It is believing that you can make it better and fix it.  It is getting used to the pain and learning to keep your head low.  It is gaining 10lbs because you are eating your feelings.  It is constant headaches from stress.  It is never feeling like you are enough because he ensures that you feel you aren't.  It is praying that it ends without harm.  It is watching it crumble.  It is untangling your web that you built together.  It is fearing that you will never trust another man.  It is protecting your children from a child like bully who wears the face of an adult.  It is feeling trapped and hopeless.

I swore it would never happen to me.  I was loud and proud about never finding myself in an abusive relationship.  I boasted many times about how I would walk away from anything abusive with my head held high.  I wouldn't be ignorant and give someone chance after chance.

It was Tuesday.  We had been in the car for 6.5hours.  The road trip was long, but I was down one child.  My daughter was in the car with his parents.  It was just the 3 of us.  My son had been incredibly well behaved being that he had no one to entertain him.  He was quiet for most of the trip, and I was rewarding his good behavior with mini Oreos every hour.
We reached the exit for the hotel, and my son erupted in happiness.  He was excited that we were off the interstate and was squealing with excitement.  I hadn't been hugged, kissed, or even had my hand held the entire day.  I could tell he was in a mood, and I was trying to give him the space he needed to prevent an argument.
Suddenly the exit ramp split and we were going the wrong direction.  We went about 200 yards the wrong way before we were able to turn around.  In reality this wasn't that big of a deal.  I couldn't have cared less because it was such an easy fix.  In his head, this was fatal.  In his head, it was my son's fault.  In his head, this couldn't be fixed, so he attacked.  He turned to my son in the back seat and screamed at him to shut up, or he would put him in the bathroom for 20 mins when we arrived at the hotel.  He was calling him names and berating him.  I was shocked and stunned, and I stayed silent staring out the front window.  What do I do now?  I need to protect my son, but how?  I am stuck in his car, with his family, in another state.  It was only a few seconds before the verbal assault turned to me.  I knew it was coming, but I have learned that fighting back is not the answer.  When someone is attacking you and your character, defending yourself or engaging only makes it worse.  My shocked stare quickly became the inability to fight tears, as he proceeded to tell me what a piece of shit I was.  Screaming at me about how terrible of a mother I am because of my inability to control my son. I wasn't what he wanted.  I never support him and he didn't want to be with someone who never supported him.  "Oh here is the real Jessica, your true colors are showing now.  You are disgusting."  I am virtually not speaking, because there are no words in a moment like this.  You feel like you have been punched in the gut, and you keep telling yourself that it is going to be over soon.
We are now pulling into the hotel and I can't stop the tears from falling.  The horrible things he has said to me and my son and ringing in my ears.  His parents are parked and walking towards our car.  My daughter is excited to see me, as I haven't seen her most of the day.  She is running towards the window and I need to not let any of them know what is going on.  How do I cover this up? He is going to make me look crazy if I speak up.  Blood is thicker than water, and they will take his side.  I will be stuck in another state with my children.  Suck it up and put yourself back together.  He opens the car door, but before he gets out he turns to me and says "I guess you aren't going to get out and help with anything.  Just sit right here and put on a fucking show for everyone.  You are so selfish and I am sick of it."  He gets out, slams the door, and disappears into the hotel.
There is no way in hell any of the 4 people outside of the car at this point didn't know I was crying.  As much as I wanted to hide all of it, it was obvious to the world that something was wrong.  He can do no wrong in the eyes of his parents, and I know that right now I look like the ass.
I get out and say nothing.  He is throwing our stuff onto a cart to take to the room, and continuing to tell me what a piece of shit I am because everyone else is now in the hotel lobby.  I get my purse, and my son and speak no words.  I walked to the elevator, up to the room, put my stuff down, and moved my kids out of the way so that they wouldn't give him another reason to attack.
He asks me if we can speak in the hallway, and I am terrified.  The door shuts behind me and he starts apologizing, but not in a way that makes it all better.  "I am sorry.  I was upset, and I am sorry.  What do you want to do?  Do you want to stay here while I go to dinner with my family?"
I told him that I needed him to tell me all of the horrible things he said to me weren't true and he didn't believe them.  He said what I wanted to hear and I went into the bathroom to clean myself up.  We loaded back into the car and headed to dinner.  Suddenly he was holding my hand, telling me I was beautiful, and that loving me is the easiest job he has ever had to do.
I ate it up.  I needed it after what I had just experienced.  This back and forth and constantly making me feel less than happened for the next week, several times a day.  Attacking everything about me, insulting me in horrible ways, making me feel like a horrible person and mother, and then apologizing and being very affectionate.

It took me 3 months of dealing with this before the lightbulb went off.  It took 90 days of feeling like I couldn't breathe.  90 days of praying that he would sleep at home tonight.  90 days of walking on eggshells so that I wouldn't upset him.
A holiday spent smiling like everything was fine, and nothing being enough to not set him off... and I found the strength to say "I AM DONE."  I realized that I was living for the happiness and euphoria that would only come after one of his explosions.  That is unhealthy and twisted.  This wasn't love.
I asked him to leave, and he still wanted to be in control.  Making a scene in front of my children, and acting like he is the one making the call!  I changed the locks after he left.  I changed the alarm code. I changed the code to the garage.  I packed all of his stuff in boxes and put it outside.  I covered all of the open windows, and I went to bed.
For the first time in months, I slept.  I actually slept, and I guess it was because the stress was gone, and the hell I had been living was over.

Learn More

People stay in abusive relationships of all types for many reasons.  Let me remind you, abuse is not love.  If someone loves you, they will make it their mission to keep you from hurt and suffering.  They won't be the cause of unending pain.  They won't make you feel less than.  They will seek to make you smile.  

I am thankful that this nightmare only last a few months.  I am thankful that it is over.  I pray that he keeps his distance, and I don't have to take drastic measures to ensure the safety of my family.  Abusive people usually don't walk away.  Abusive people never want to risk being seen by the world.  My blog allows me a platform to speak.  It gives me a place to let out what is inside, and this man knows the web address.  I pray that if he reads this post, that he can find awareness and seek help.  

But most of all, I pray that my children won't believe that his is what relationships are supposed to look like.  I wanted a man to show them love in a way that they had never seen.  I guess he did just that.  Now it is my job to protect them, and educate them that this isn't healthy.  

If you find yourself in a situation similar to mine, please don't think that you are trapped and alone.  You are NOT.  Reach out, and share what is going on with those closest to you.  Allow them to support you and encourage you and help you find a solution for your exit.  

I am so blessed to have so many people in my life that love me and my children.  Thankfully those people rally around me when I need them, and not only provide guidance and support, but hold me accountable.  They will ensure that I don't find myself manipulated back into that relationship again.  I am so grateful for my tribe.  

Every lesson is a blessing.  Allow yourself to learn from every experience, good or bad.  

The Illusion

Illusion...

Yesterday I got a lot of work done.  I needed the hours, and I was so proud of the work I accomplished.  I set Christmas in a Walgreens yesterday.  Most of my people know that I work for a greeting card company, and this is one of my first big seasons that I am working on alone!  #ilovechristmas #workhardplayhard #ocdhappiness

After work, I came home and heated up the leftover Asian Chicken Wraps I made yesterday.  So delicious, and such an easy recipe!

#eathealthy #instafood #sogood

We had a makeup game this evening after our game on Saturday was cancelled due to weather.  So we dressed up, and headed out to Thomasville.

#TuesdayNightLights #CoachLife #GoLions

REALITY...

It is 7:45am, and I am exhausted.  I work for a greeting card company, and yesterday I set Christmas in a store by myself.  I haven't done a season set alone before.  It took me 6 hours, and it should have taken about 3.  I had to call in help early for the kids because I couldn't leave work without completing the job.  I didn't eat lunch because I couldn't stop, and I came home at 5pm fully hangry.  I opened the fridge grabbed the first thing I saw and heated it up.  Thankfully yesterday evening I had a little time and I was able to make Asian Chicken Wraps.  They were great yesterday, but today I am not sure I even tasted them.  I sucked the food off the plate, then fell victim to the "we are running late" mommy mode.  I put laundry in the dryer, got a cheerleader dressed, got myself dressed, got my things together, and headed to a game in Thomasville.  To be really honest, that was the last thing I wanted to do yesterday, but I was determined to follow through on my commitment.  I was sick most of the weekend, and still don't feel 100%.  I haven't been sleeping well because of the sick, and I just need a day to SLEEP!  The game was a train wreck.  The team we played should be removed from the league we play in.  The injured 8 of our players (on purpose) which ultimately led to a forfeit from our team.  The cheerleaders weren't there to see it because I pressed the ABORT button long before it happened.  Their parents were rude, disrespectful, and classless.  After they tried to start some sort of battle with our parents and getting level 10 nasty in front of our girls, we grabbed our stuff, were escorted to the car, and drove as quickly as I could to get home.  I was shaking most of the way home because I have never been afraid like that.  My momma bear mode kicked in and my only thought was to get my child out safely.  I felt bad for abandoning my cheerleaders and prayed that everyone got home safely.  Fortunately, they did.  I got home and got Abbie into the bed.  Thankfully, the in home nurse we have for Brady folded all of the laundry, including mine, and cleaned the house up.  After getting Abbie in bed, I was hungry, and I sat down with my phone and a bag of Doritos.  I made sure parents and cheerleaders had made it home safe, and fell asleep without changing clothes and sadly... holding the bag of Doritos.  I woke up around 1, turned the lights off, licked my Dorito fingers, and went back to bed.

Illusion...

I know some kids who are excited about Halloween!

#trickortreat #theyaregrowingup #pumpkinorange

REALITY...

That picture was from last year because at 6:10am when my youngest has to leave for the bus, one was still in pajamas, they were yelling at each other because of a Pop Tart dilemma, and my youngest was crying because he couldn't look out the window and "see" Halloween this morning.  The only difference in this picture and this morning's end results is the glasses on my son's face!  He broke those earlier this year, and is sporting a black pair now.  They are wearing the exact same outfits... cause this mom doesn't give a flying flip about Halloween, and I'm cheap!  They still fit, so they wear them again!

The point of this blog post is to let you know that every single parent you know out there is a duck on the pond!  We are all doing the best we can, and that is all we can do.  I assure you this hot mess momma doesn't have her act together the way it may appear on social media from time to time.

It's an illusion.  

Stop falling victim and beating yourself up about not being as good as others out there.  We ALL have days where we fail.  We ALL have days where we succeed.  Celebrate the happy moments and let the others roll off your back.  Im not a perfect mom, and I don't pretend to be.  I love my kids, and that is my reality.

I Am Also Her

READER ALERT:  This post contains graphic concepts.  If you are not comfortable with what you are reading, I encourage you to stop reading.  This is my story, and I am going to write truth.

I should avoid Facebook today.  In fact, I should avoid the internet all together.  The reason is that today is Trump 2.0.  Today the Senate will vote to decide who the newest Supreme Court Justice will be.  I am not going to write about Brett Kavanaugh, or what my political views are.  One thing I have learned in my 33 years, is that the internet is not the place to educate anyone on your stance.  People go from barely open minded to defensive faster than you can blink.

I am writing this blog because I AM her.  I have stood in her shoes.  I know what it's like... BUT I do NOT stand with her.  Stick with me here.  If you don't read this entire post, you will likely make some assumptions about why I stand where I do that aren't correct.

It was 2001.  It was cold outside.  I was 16, and everything about me was dictated by peer pressure.  Every move that I made was decided for me by other people because I let their opinions about me drive who I was.  I had some "friends", and I use that term loosely.  These people never really had my best interest at heart and were horrible influences on me, but I continued to run with them just the same.  I had one of my first jobs.  I was a hostess at a restaurant in Greensboro, NC, and I was a terrible employee!  Not only was peer pressure my biggest weakness, but I challenged authority at every single moment of the day.  The restaurant that I worked at, was called Mahi's.  It not longer exists today, but in it's Glory Days, you could go there and crush some crab legs.  It wasn't cheap to eat there, so the clientele was older and more established.  I had to dress more professional than I was used to doing previously, and the only people who were remotely close to me in age worked in the kitchen.
I was young and stupid, and when one of the cooks, let's call him Brandon, started flirting with me, I thought I was special.  We didn't hang out outside of work, but when I was at work, I made every attempt I could to talk to him.  Keep in mind, a hostess shouldn't be in the kitchen of a restaurant very often, but I never seemed to be at the front door.
It wasn't too much longer that my home situation exploded.  The woman whom my dad was married too made my life a living hell, but that is a story for a different blog!  I was miserable, and when it all reached a peak for me, I ran away from home.
At the time, I didn't see the offer from this 18 year old guy as being preyed on.  I needed a place to stay until I could decide what I wanted to do.  I needed that place to be one that my parents would never look for me at.  I needed to hide, to go off the grid, and I liked him.  Crashing on his couch wasn't glamorous, but I would make it work for a little bit, so off to Brandon's house I went.
It was easier to go off the grid in 2001.  I had a cell phone, but with no text plan and data plans not existing, all you had to do was turn the phone off!
I was there for 2 days.  2 days before it happened.  The third night that I stayed there, Brandon didn't work.  I was excited to hang out with him, and when he provided a little booze, I was totally game.  I trusted this person, for no real reason.  I knew I shouldn't be there.  I knew because there were red flags everywhere.  The kind of red flags that they teach you about in D.A.R.E. when you are in the 5th grade.  The kind of red flags that your parents scare you with over and over again.  The kind of red flags that land pictures of missing girls on the news.  But like I said, I was 16 and stupid.  When you are a teenager you have a hard time believing that anything bad could happen to you.  You start to believe that you are invincible.
I actually believed that I was, until the 3rd night.  I remember drinking, and I remember laughing.  I remember music, and I remember the cold breeze every time the sliding glass door by the couch would open.  I remember talking about getting food, but never actually getting any.  I can remember the layout of that apartment.  I know where the bathroom was, the kitchen, and the only bedroom which I never went in.  I barely knew Brandon's roommate, and being that Brandon was kind of crashing with him, I remember trying to stay out of his way.

I have been through years of therapy to deal with the things I felt next.  This experience no longer defines who I am, but this is the first time I am going to describe it in graphic detail.

It was dark out, and the only light on in the room was the flickering light of the tv.  I couldn't make out much because my vision was very blurred, but the pain of what was happening was not dulled in any way.  It hurt.  His silhouette was all I could make out.  I knew what was happening, but I couldn't speak words or fight back.  It was as if I was paralyzed.  My body wanted to pass out, but it was fighting against the drugs I had been given.  Fighting back, but not hard enough to defend myself.  Awake enough to know that I was being raped.
Realizing that I was powerless at this point, I did what I think anyone would do, and prayed it was almost over.  I was in and out of consciousness, but it seemed like it would never end.  I would close my eyes and try to sleep like I wanted too so badly, but the pain of what he was doing to me was too much.  I wanted to cry, but I was lifeless.  Unable to see, hear, or move.  Just able to feel.

BLACK OUT

When I opened my eyes the next day, it took a few minutes to realize that the nightmare I thought I had last night was real.  I was lying naked on a couch.  My clothes laid on the floor beside me, and blood was on my leg.  I started replaying the night in my mind trying to figure out how I managed to land on my back with this guy on top me.  I don't remember going to sleep, what time is it?  I was fully dressed, and it was cold, so I had on more clothes than usual.  Now I was stark naked, how did this happen?  No one was in the apartment, but I was scared to move.  I remained where I was in fear that perhaps my death was next.  Who rapes someone and let's them live to talk about it?  After an hour or so of playing back what happened and deciding the coast most be clear to leave, I grabbed my clothes and took them to the kitchen.  I didn't dare go near the bathroom, because I wasn't sure if someone was in the bedroom.  I quietly cleaned myself up with paper towels, and got dressed.  My body ached, and I felt so beyond dirty.  I grabbed everything I could find of mine and put it in my bag, and bolted for the door.
I was holding my phone and my car keys in my hand thinking, how am I getting out of this so easily?
I climbed into my car, threw my bag into the passenger side seat, and locked the door as fast as I could.  Sunglasses on, and I was in reverse and running away.  I went to a Food Lion close by, and parked in the back of the parking lot.  I needed to catch my breath.  Where am I going to go?
That is the moment that I chose to look at myself in my rear view mirror.  I hated who I saw.  I hated everything about that piece of trash looking back at me.  I called myself a whore.  I called myself nasty.  I called myself everything.  I yelled at myself, and cried until the already smeared make up from yesterday was half down my face.
I took a few things into the Food Lion and headed for the bathroom.  I tried to clean up my face as best as I could, and headed back to my car.  It was at least a week before I could really look at myself in the mirror again.  I blamed myself for all of it.  I shouldn't have been there.  I shouldn't have put myself in that position.  The worst part was, I had to call my parents and go back home.  I was grounded from everything, so I now had to spend days on end alone with my thoughts and myself... whom I now hated more than ever.
It took me some time before I admitted to anyone what had happened, and when I did decide to tell them, no one believed me.  I never went back to work at Mahi's.  I couldn't imagine having to look him in the eyes ever again.  What I didn't know at the time is that this would haunt me for years.  I should have filed a police report, but I was just grateful to be alive.  He didn't know where I lived, and I needed to just fly under the radar for a while.  Besides, no one believed me anyway, why would the police be any different?

As an adult, I occasionally have come across his picture.  Facebook suggested we be friends once, and I almost deleted my account.  I cried, and I felt anger like I have never felt anger before.  Seeing his smiling face in his profile picture made me want to throw my computer across the room.
It has been 17 years, and while I no longer give him the energy it takes to hate someone, I wouldn't stop to help him if he was burning alive on the side of the road.

As someone who could be labeled a victim, I refuse to categorize myself in that way.  I won't let this define me.  This is why I still haven't reported it to authorities and why I will not do so ever.  17 years later, this was still a crime.  What he did to me is horrible.  It is illegal, but ruining his life as an adult for something he did 17 years ago is NOT going to make me feel any better.  It is simply going to make me relive all of the horror that I have spent so many years getting over.
I could report it though.  I could try to serve justice to a man that left such a horrible mark on me.  The difference in me and Mrs. Ford, is that this man is not days away from confirmation as a Supreme Court Justice.  This would not serve as a political agenda.  There would be no ulterior motives.  There would be no benefit to anyone else.  There would be no power struggle for the court system.  There would be no senators yelling and screaming at each other.  There would be no divide made worse for our country.
It would simply be me serving justice, and I still do NOT believe that is what I should do.
I moved on.
Yes, there are still scars, but I can talk about all of it now.
Everyone deals with grief differently, and I do not think that she should deal with it the same way I do.  I fully believed every single person who stood up about Bill Cosby.  I believed the ones who came forward about Kevin Spacey, Harvey Weinstein, and Dr. Luke.  I believe them because there was nothing to gain, and everything to lose.  I stand with them.  I am with them.

But her... I am NOT with her.

Ps... Brandon, I hope you spend the rest of your life suffering from erectile dysfunction.

A Letter of Closure

One year ago today, you calmly walked away.
And with every step you took, our memories began to fade.
The problems grew in number and the bad is what was left.
But I never saw it coming, you can't prepare for such a theft.
The life I knew was over, you stole it when you disappeared.
I could only stand in shock until the smoke began to clear.
You were so destructive, every action like weapons thrown.
I felt helpless and stripped of power, a pain I've never known.
I couldn't see the light at the end of tunnel I now called life.
And I couldn't stop the bleeding once I removed your knife.
I gave you everything I had, and you tossed me out like trash.
The rollercoaster was finally over, but I had severe whiplash.
How do you start over when you're youth is gone?
I couldn't even find the strength for me to carry on.
They say that time has ability to heal the deepest wound.
I was sure that was impossible on the island I was marooned.
My strength was building every day and soon I found fresh air.
Breathing became much easier without your burden for me to bear.
Days crept by and I found myself buried in the dust.
I had forgotten who I was after years of your unjust.
I started to rebuild myself one day at a time.
Recovering from falling victim to your vicious crime.
I packed my world in boxes and my children in my car.
I headed south to start again, I needed to be far.
Far from you and us and far from everything that was we.
No matter what you wanted you were out of chances with me.
It's been one year today, and it's hard to remember us.
That wound you caused has healed. No blood, no scar, no pus.
I used to harbor anger, and revenge was what I sought.
Karma will take care of things. I won't give you one more thought.
I am happier without you than I ever thought I'd be.
What I thought was theft, only ever set me free.
Free from everything that used to drag me down.
Free from a life at home alone, a 3 story ghost town.
I might be a single mom, but it isn't all that new.
I'd raised these kids alone for years, so I owe you a thank you.
A thank you for showing me that I didn't need you there.
Thanks to you for making sure that I was well prepared.
Thank you for screwing up, so I could head out on my own.
What didn't kill me made me stronger, and showed me how I'd grown.
You never did deserve me, or all I did for you.
So thanks for letting me do me after years of only you.
As I celebrate today and my freedom from your chains,
I'd like to thank you for the suffering and pain.
The hurt and hardships that I faced is over now.
A year apart complete and now it's time for brand new vows.
I vow to make this painless, I vow to make it quick.
The ink will soon be dry, and the tension not so thick.
I vow to always look ahead, and never look behind.
Because after all of this I think I've earned a little peace of mind.
I wish you well, and hope that your skies are never gray.
So long to the headache that I called marriage...
Sincerely,
The One Whom You Betrayed

This Old House

2017 wasn't exactly my best year, and during one of the hardest times of my life, I embraced the new in my life with open arms.  So much had changed in the last 10 years, and I needed to have some roots.  A foundation needed to be built, so that I could start a new life back home in North Carolina.

When I was 26, I decided that my 2 year old was ready to potty train.  I had just had another baby, and my toddler had just transitioned to a toddler bed from a crib. In this month, I also decided that she needed to ditch the pacifier.  I tried too much at one time.  Nothing worked, I was so frustrated, and we failed at all of the things I was trying to accomplish.  I took a trip to the pediatrician for my infant's 1 month check up and he called me crazy!  Why are you trying to do so much at one time?  "Pick a battle, and fight it until it is no longer a battle.  You do NOT have to do all of this at one time."  Now that I had the doctor's permission to stop trying to be super mom, I stopped!

When I looked into my future in North Carolina, I should have done the same thing.  One thing at a time, that is all I can do, and I shouldn't have attempted anything more.  However... I bought a home.  I bet most of you reading this were completely unaware that I bought a historic home, but I did.  This home had years and years of history.  The windows were busted and needed replacing.  The front door wouldn't close and constantly swung open.  The roof was falling apart.  The chimney was crumbling, and the fireplace didn't work.  The floors were original and so were the moldings.  I could see the potential here, and I bought it.  

When you restore a historic home, you have to follow many rules.  It is very time consuming and expensive, but I was willing to put in the work.  Little by little, I put in the TLC this home needed so desperately.  I followed all of the rules, and made sure that everything was just right.  Sure it was expensive, it was stressful, and it was exhausting, but I could actually see the progress.   

This house was beautiful in a strange way, and I had some disbelief, at times, that I had even purchased it in the first place.  Yet, I would find myself in the kitchen, replacing the sink and the countertops.  I even had to bring in an electrician to bring this house to code because I wasn't able to have appliances in my kitchen due to the lack of voltage capability this home had.  I had to rearrange a bathroom, which was challenging to say the least, but one thing after another was accomplished and this house was becoming a beautiful property.  

I was working to restore this home because I wanted to host a party.  The party wasn't for me, and it wouldn't be a housewarming party.  It was more of a birthday party for someone I loved.  The guest of honor had helped here and there with the renovations, and this party was really meant to celebrate a labor of love that we had done together.  They didn't know how to renovate a house, and they certainly weren't equipped to do so.  We argued about finishes, and about simple things during the renovation as most people probably would.  I made some concessions that I didn't want too, but my heart is huge and my desire to rebuild this house was deep.  

We were almost done.  The renovation was complete and most of the furniture had been moved in.  All that was left was to start planning the party!  We were to meet at the house and go over some things together for the event.  When I pulled up, it took me a minute to get out of the car.  I was oblivious to what was about to happen, and I casually tried to brush the wrinkles out of my pretty lace dress, grab my purse and keys, and some snacks and water for us to enjoy while we party planned.  I turned and walked towards the front walk, and I saw them standing on the front porch.  I smiled, and said "Hey.  You look beautiful today."  That is when I realized, they were holding a match.  

I couldn't understand why a match was lit in their hand, but it was there and I froze in confusion.

They walked down the steps of the porch very calmly, and tossed the burning match over the shoulder as they tossed their hair and smirked.  I dropped everything in my hands, and watched in horror as the house burned to the ground.  I have never seen a house burn so fast, it clearly had been planned.  There was accelerant doused on every inch of that home.  It burned so fast that I couldn't save anything inside.  Nothing.  Why would they do this?  They helped build it.  We were done with the work, and we were planning a party to celebrate.  Then they were gone, and the house was gone, and my dreams of this home ever being the same was gone.  Arson.  This person that I had thought loved me and I had continuously been there for, was an arsonist.  They didn't even know that I had been restoring this house to give to them as a gift.  It wasn't for me.  Nothing done was for me.  I didn't want any credit.  I just wanted to see them happy.  Now it was gone, everything.  The house was in ashes.  

The worst part wasn't the fire.  When I turned to walk to my car in shock, I was slow to move.  When I turned around I realized they had invited an audience to watch.  There were photographers, there were friends and family, there were my children, it was a show.  It was a production.  Everyone was there and watched my house burn to the ground.  In front of that audience stood the guest of honor.  The one who I was planning to give this house too, the one that the party would be for, the one that I had been there for, and they were smiling.  It was an evil smile.  One that said "I have played you, and you are an idiot."

What happened next was not what they expected.  I smiled back, I climbed into my car, and I drove away.  I didn't call the police to report the arson.  I didn't stomp my feet and pick a fight.  I didn't even ask why and demand answers.  I just left.  The only thing in the rear view mirror was the smoke rising from the site of the fire.  

Goodbye beautiful home.  You had so much potential, and you would have been a beautiful place.

This time when I buy a house, I will be much more careful who I ask to help me with the renovations.

Truth Is

So let's cut the s#!t for a minute and be real.  Some days life is just hard.  We can go on posting on the internet like everything is glorious when reality is... this mess is hard.

Truth is... being a single mom terrifies me.  There I said it.  My anxiety gets worse the older I get, and I literally am afraid of everything.  I can remember thinking that something like "agoraphobia" wasn't really a condition, but I understand it more as I age.  My home is my safe space, and leaving it causes fear.  I am in fear that my kids will pick up the gonoherpasyphilaids in the McDonald's PlayPlace.  Fear that someone is going to snatch my 8 year old and send her to the hellacious world of trafficking.  Fear that I may not get my bills paid.  Fear that my kids will grow up not knowing how much I love them because I didn't have time to sit and play Barbies.  Truth is, the picture I posted earlier today is the only moment from my day that I can remember existing, and it took 50 pictures to get 1 where we looked happy.

Truth is... being a special needs mom is overwhelming.  Some days I need a vacation from it.  There I said it.  Some days I wonder how in the world I am going to get to bedtime without being drunk.  The intense volume at which the tantrums are held, makes you want to voluntarily go deaf.  The diapers you have been changing for 8 mother friggin' years have no end in sight.  The list of 5 things that are acceptable food choices is narrowed down to 4. The wheelchair that is "lightweight" bites your finger as you hoist it into the trunk.  Truth is, the hug you get from a child who doesn't understand "appreciation" means more than it ever should.

Truth is... being a working mom sucks.  There I said it.  I stayed home for 8 years, and I didn't want to go back to work.  Of course some of those days, it felt like the walls were closing in on me, but I liked having time for myself.  Now when there isn't something to do around the house or for a child, I work.  Not much free time left for me when I have to "adult" like some kind of chump.  I am exhausted more than I am not.  The comical part is, I work part time.  How you full time working mothers do it, is beyond me.  I don't know what I am going to do when I have to start working full time, but you may find me hiding in the fetal position under my dining room table with a bottle of wine and a box of Cocoa Pebbles.  I would usually eat good chocolate in crisis mode, but Cocoa Pebbles will likely be the only chocolate source in the house, and be easily accessible since it was what we had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  With a full time job, who has time to cook!?

Truth is... I fail a lot.  I am human.  I have many flaws, and one of my biggest is the inability to cut myself any slack.  I beat myself to a pulp trying to make everyone around me happy.  Jokes on me, because it is actually IMPOSSIBLE to make everyone happy at the same time.  I often forget to put gas back in my own tank.  I can't keep doing for everyone when my tank is on fumes.
Truth is... I should be asleep right now and not blogging, but THIS is something I do for me!
So I blog on, at midnight.

Truth is... you can't do it all.  "ALL" is not always a good thing.  Have you ever left an all you can eat buffet and felt good about yourself, NO!!!  So stop trying to "do it all"!!!
Your body is not in good shape, work out.  You aren't working enough, put in more hours.  You want to use your PTO, you mean your kids are sick again?  We know how much you make and you can't afford that vacation you are planning anyway.  Put it on a credit card, you can have it paid off in 78 months with our APR.  You need to breast feed, what kind of person bottle feeds.  You cant nurse in public, what are you thinking feeding a baby out in the open like that?  Go feed them under a bridge with the rest of the breast feeding trolls.  Cloth diapers are better for the environment, get your act together before I put my carbon footprint up your... YouTube is not a babysitter, get your child off of that tablet.  You should be painting or doing a puzzle, and learning through play.  Microwave?  You put Macaroni & Cheese in the microwave... we don't even own a microwave because the waves are damaging to your brain.  Let's face facts, your entire family probably has cancer in some form because you didn't buy organic milk from farm raised cows anyway.

Let's face it... TRUTH IS, LET GO!
Laugh a little, because we aren't guaranteed tomorrow, and today is almost over.

*Some of the material above was pulled from a comedy act by Michelle Wolf.  She is hysterical and I appreciate her sense of humor and her work fully.  Give credit where it is due!

Someone

I have taken a break from social media for a few days and what has happened has been wonderful.  I have had time to reflect on myself, my family, and my life.  It is amazing what you learn about you when you stop focusing on everyone else.

I am a people pleaser!  Look up Pisces and read even a little, and you will see that we have a tendency to take care of everyone around us before we take care of ourselves.  That is me in a nut shell.  I want to take care of everyone, and I enjoy having people to take care of.  The problem is, not everyone appreciates the things you do for them, and eventually you resent them for it and are exhausted from the work.

Taking a break and focusing on me has allowed me to really think about what it is that I want.  One thing about me that a lot of people may not know is that I am a ridiculously hopeless romantic.  It seems almost absurd that after the experience I lived through in the last year that I can even think about love again, but I do.  I think about it a lot.  I think that is because it has been a very long time since I have felt loved, and I am not even sure that it was real love.  So, I thought about it, and I do what I always do... wrote about it.  This is what I came up with, and I thought I would get these words out in a letter form to the "someone" I will meet one day.  This isn't just a letter to him.  It is also a reminder to myself.  Something to hold me accountable to what it is I want, in hopes that I never allow myself to settle for less than that again.

Dear Someone,
My heart is tender, and has been bruised and broken.  I have built walls around it to protect it from the people like those who have come before you.  I don't want to punish you for the mistakes of my past, and I hope you can understand and be patient with me while I decide if you are someone I can trust.  I love hard, I know no other way.  Sometimes I wish I did.  Honestly though, I would rather fall apart than love half hearted.  I promise that if you are patient, I will be worth the wait.  I want a love like no other.  I want that love to be something that makes me a better person.  Something that sets me on fire, but makes me feel at peace.  I want someone who challenges me, but fully supports me.  Someone who appreciates my strengths, but embraces my flaws.  Someone who sees what I bring to the table.  Someone who tells me I'm beautiful and does it often.  Someone who will hug me when I am sad & hear me when I am angry.  Someone who opens the door for me, and holds my hand without asking.  Someone who kisses me on my forehead after brushing my hair from my face.  Someone who presses me up against a wall, and grabs my face to kiss me like I have always wanted to be kissed.  Someone who smiles because he sees me laughing with my friends.  Someone who loves God and loves my children, with no conditions.  Someone who has dreamt of loving someone like me for years.  Someone who smiles at me the way Harry smiles at Meghan.  Someone who won't go to sleep mad at me.  Someone who hates to see me cry.  Someone who can't wait to meet my family, and spend time with them.  Someone who forgives me when I make mistakes.  Someone who will kill all of my spiders.  Someone who will twirl me around in the kitchen or in public.  Someone who is proud to call me his.  Someone who doesn't question his feelings for me.  Someone who is loving and kind, but adventurous and strong.  Someone who can take control and curl my toes.  Someone who plans a date and makes it happen.  Someone who will snuggle me to sleep every night.  Someone who will laugh at funny movies and sing in the car with me.  Someone who feels like he won the lottery when he looks at me.  Someone who feels blessed to be a bonus dad to my kids.  Someone who talks me up to everyone he knows, so when I meet them they say "I have heard so much about you."  Someone who will call me baby and sweetheart.  Someone who will make me feel safe and never insecure.  Someone who won't judge my past and appreciates the struggles I have been through.  Someone who will cook with me.  Someone who will make it his mission not to hurt me.  Someone who makes me understand real love for the first time in my life.  I know you are out there, and hopefully you are praying that you meet me the same way I pray I meet you.  I hope we meet soon, so I can love you as long as possible.  I pray that until we meet, you are happy.
I can't wait to meet you.
Jessica

Until I meet this someone, I am going to continue to find happiness in my world.  I am blessed with so much.  I am grateful for this time to reflect.  Focusing on me isn't such a bad idea right now.  Growth comes from reflection, and I am already feeling more peace.

Dear Mothers

It is the eve of my 8th Mother's Day, and I find myself drowning in a million emotions.  Being a mother is hands down the most rewarding experience of my life to date, and also the hardest challenge of my life.  While I have celebrated 7 Mother's Days already as a mom, this will be my first as a single mom.

I spent my youth dreaming of growing up and being a mom.  I wanted 4, that is right, 4 children.  I had beautiful ideas of what my big family would be like, and I couldn't wait to get that family started. But, life has a funny way of throwing sticks in front of you while you are roller blading (Big Daddy reference... I love Adam Sandler movies!), and my big family dreams faded.

I found myself married to a man who loved his job more than his family, and after baby #2 arrived, I realized that I wasn't cut out to raise more than 2 by myself.  Now that me and my littles live 2 states away from their dad, the reality of raising them alone really hit home.

So what does Mother's Day mean to me?

Growing up, I didn't have a relationship with my mother.  She will read this, and likely be horrified that I am writing this publicly, but I write what I know.  It wasn't until 2010 that I really developed a relationship with my mom, and I was 25.  I took her for granted, I viewed her as my harshest critic, and was genuinely convinced that she couldn't stand me, much less love me.

In January of 2010, I was put on bed rest.  After an early labor scare, I wasn't allowed to do anything!  As mentioned before, my husband was married to his job so I was on my own.  My mom came over to my house every night while I was on bed rest.  After working a full time job, she would come to my house no questions asked.  She did my laundry, she made dinner, she walked the dogs, she cleaned the house, she kept me company, and she became my friend.

I couldn't understand why she would do all of that for me.  I remember wondering what her end game was!  What could she think I had that I could repay her with.  It wasn't until the moment that I held my daughter in my arms, that I fully understood how much that woman loved me.  It clicked.  She would do anything for me, because she was my mom.  It was literally that simple.

As I watched that little girl of mine grow, I learned how hard being a mom really is.  I called her often to apologize for things I did and said when I was growing up.  I developed a deep appreciation for my mom, and our friendship became important to me.  I can't imagine not having her to call when I wanted to cry or laugh about mom related things.

Being a mom often means feeling like a failure.  It means second guessing yourself.  It means questioning things that you said you would never do.  It means sounding like your parents.  It means wondering if they are eating enough vegetables.  It means crying over breastfeeding.  It means no sleep.  It means being the bad guy.  It means helping with homework.  It means kissing boo boos.  It means being hated.  It means cheering on the sidelines.  It means sleepy bedtime snuggles.  It means being unfair.  It means learning to love wine.  It means play dates.  It means potty training.  It means getting in the pool.  It means tieing shoes.  It means stains.  It means mini vans.  It means G Rated Movies.  It means knowing the theme song to Dora the Explorer.  It means doctor appointments.  It means wiping boogers.  It means PTA meetings.  It means babysitters.  It means nights in with Netflix.  It means midnight fever checks.  It means fingerprints on windows.  It means stretch marks. Bottom line... It means sacrifice.

I would walk over fiery coals just to walk across a bed of broken glass for those kids of mine.
Being a mom means everything to me.  It means I have a purpose.  Being a single mom means hoping and praying that one day, someone will love my kids as much as he loves me.  It means praying that one day they will have a dad to look up too and learn from.  Being a daughter means I have a mom who loves me.  It means I am grateful for the relationship I have with my mom.

I have a lot of reasons to celebrate on Mother's Day, and I imagine that most people reading this probably do as well.

Dear Mothers - 

You are enough.  Don't forget that.  You are amazing, and you deserve to be celebrated.

Blogger high fives and happiest Mother's Day wishes to all of you.

#confuseme

It finally happened.  After being gone for 6 years, I finally moved back to North Carolina.  I wasn't sure I would ever get to come back, and I never really thought I would end up back in the area that I grew up.

Prior to my move, I was jacked up on excitement.  This was my place.  It was always home.  I lived all over the Greensboro area growing up, and I knew that I was returning to a place of familiarity.  That was comforting since I was basically starting my life over!  I had so many friends and family close by and this would be fun.  I was so ready to get back I couldn't stand it.

In the excitement, I didn't even think about the fact that almost every single person I knew in the Greensboro area is married.  They are all moms with their own family lives now, and the life I knew in this area once upon a time was over.

Being a single parent in your 30s or 40s, is a little bit of a gut check.  You are no longer in the phase of life that all of your friends are in.  Let's face it, married folks tend to run with married folks.  So that left me in a strange place.

How do you make friends in the same phase of life you are in when you also have kids to take care of?  When you are raising kids alone, you find that you have more alone time than you know what to do with.  I enjoy my alone time, in fact, I often crave it!  But, there are days that I don't want to be alone.  The days when you have been alone enough and you just want to hang out with someone!  Days when you need adult interaction with someone who makes you laugh.

I felt this starting to happen after the New Year, so I started a part time job.  The job I took on was flexible enough for me to be at home when the kids are home, but still bring in a little money doing something I enjoy.  I am not in an office, and most of the people I work with are also... MARRIED!
Obviously this means, making single friends at work won't be happening!

So now what?! It is a weird place to be!  It is a strange season of life, and I am eager for it to pass.
There are a lot of pros to being single in my 30's, but I am finding cons too.  This is without a doubt the biggest con I have found.  I got married so young, and in fact, was one of the first people I knew my age to get married.  When I was having babies, it seemed like most of my friends were getting married.  Now my babies are kids, and most of the people I know have babies of their own.

Cut to my marriage ending.  I hope that the friends I know and love don't have to deal with this headache down the road, but we are now living very different lives.  Without a coparent to share custody with on the regular, I find myself at home ... ALONE ... a lot.

I have learned to love my house.  I have watched a LOT of Netflix.  I have grown to love social media for new reasons.  I have found myself taking risks and trying new things when I get the chance.  I have found a love for my mini workouts.  I have found myself, really.  I had kind of forgotten who that Jessica chick was.  She is pretty cool, and she is ready to meet some single friends and have a life again!

I guess I just call 1-800-findafriend, right?!  #thisisaweirdseasonoflife #confuseme

21,900 Days Ago

The morning of the tragedy, she looked adorable!

It has been 5 years, but I can still remember every single detail.  It was one of the worst days of my entire life, and certainly the worst day of hers.  She was 3, and so completely innocent.  She had spent the morning at preschool, and I had spent the morning at a friend's house.  It was a planned morning with several other moms in which we worked hard to finish a project.  

After preschool she came to my friend's house to play with her daughter while I finished the project at hand.  I was working hard and so close to being finished.  My friend gave the girls a snack, and when they were finished they headed to the back yard to play.  Neither of us had a clue that they went outside, but the yard was fenced.  We wouldn't have stopped them if they had told us that was their plan.  

***WARNING : GRAPHIC PHOTO CONTENT BELOW***

The next 30 mins plays out in my head like an episode of Rescue 9-1-1.  Do you remember that show?  Narrated by William Shattner, so please read this part in his voice!

Molly & Abbie finished their snack, and headed to the back yard to play on the swing set.  They were excited to play and ran past their shoes.  Molly pulled the sliding glass door open, and they stepped out onto the back porch.  They headed down the stairs to the path that headed out back.  The path was made of black slate pavers which were surrounded by mulch.  It was the hottest day so far that year and the sun had been baring down on the back yard all morning.  Molly made it to the path first, and chose to walk in the mulch knowing that is was soft, and the pavers were hot.  Abbie, however, was unfamiliar with this pathway and decided to avoid what looked like sharp mulch and walk on the pavers.  

Molly's mom was washing dishes at the sink, and I was in the dining room.  We both were blind sided when Molly came running into the kitchen in panic.  "Abbie is hurt really bad, she is crying.  Come outside right now."  I jumped up and looked out the window, but I saw no sign of Abbie.  Molly's mom was looking out the kitchen window and saw nothing either.  She beat me outside and found Abbie lying on the ground screaming in pain.  She picked Abbie up and carried her up the steps of the porch.  I was looking for anything, any sign of a broken bone, blood, or bee sting.  What on earth could be causing this kind of pain?  

That is when I noticed that she had her feet curled up tight.  It was unusual, and since she was being carried into the house, it was obvious that something had happened to her feet.  We sat her on the sofa and I immediately grabbed her ankles to look at her feet from the bottom. I remember thinking there is absolutely no way on earth that this could be as bad as it looks.  Her feet literally looked like they had been melted.  How?  I mean, HOW???  What melted her feet???

My mind was racing, and trying to think of any Pinterest hack I had seen for burns.  I could think of nothing.  I am honestly not the fastest on my feet in emergency situations.  So I told Molly's mom to fill a bowl with ice water as fast as possible, and grab 4 washcloths.  

I put ice cold cloths on her feet and the second they got warm, I switched them with the ones soaking in ice water.  Every single time I put the cloths on her feet, you would hear a slight sizzle.  What in God's name happened to my baby girl?  I just couldn't make sense of this.  There was no way that I could put her in a car and she needed pain meds FAST.  So I called 911, and it wasn't long until I heard the sweet relief of sirens approaching the house.  I scooped her up and ran outside.  They put her on the stretcher and looked at her feet.  The responders seemed to be just as surprised and confused as I was.  They went back to look at the scene of the accident to try and get a better grasp on what happened, and began working on a pediatric dose of morphine to give Abbie on the way to the hospital.  That ambulance ride was the longest ride of my life.  I didn't think we would ever make it and the meds weren't kicking in fast enough.  She was in so much pain, and I couldn't take it away.

After seeing the ER doctor on duty, they bandaged her feet up, and the pain meds finally started working their magic.  The doctor said her burns were second degree, and might be about 25% of each foot.  He wanted to see her in 24 hours to see if any changes occurred and reassess the burns.  So, we headed back the following day.  When the bandages were removed, the doctor actually gasped.  He said he was not aware of how significant the burns were or how much of her feet had been affected the day before.  Abbie had what this doctor called 2 1/2 degree burns.  The nerves hadn't been damaged but the level of damage done was very close to 3rd degree burns.  Every single toe had been burned as well.  This meant that Abbie walked onto the pavers on the balls of her feet.  Almost trying to tip toe.  When her feet began to burn, she was in so much pain that she went into shock and virtually froze.  Her feet continued to sear on the stones until she fell over.  As the doctor described this to me, my heart sank.  As a mom, all you want to do is prevent your kids from suffering, and I had failed miserably.  

The burns had to be debrided at a burn unit, and that was another nightmare of epic proportions.  We held her down while they cut the blisters off to prevent infection and aid in faster healing.  

It took weeks for the burns to even begin showing signs of healing.  She refused to walk for several weeks, and we bandaged the wounds every day.

Eventually, she was able to stop wearing what she called her "special socks".  However, it was another month before she would take a bath without actual socks on her feet.  Her feet were so sensitive to everything.

Soooooo, why on earth am I telling you guys this horror story?  Today, is Abbie's 5 year Burniversary.  That is right, we celebrate this day!  Why?  Because we all have a little PTSD from it, and because it keeps a very valid reminder in our head... 

WEAR SHOES WHEN YOU GO OUTSIDE.  

How do we celebrate it?  Well, we buy a pair of shoes every year on this day of course!!

And her shoes this year are adorable!!  In fact, her mom has 2 pairs that match in different colors!

Our 2018 Burniversary Shoes

She loves her new shoes, and couldn't believe it has been 5 years since that happened.  Kids don't remember a lot of stuff from when they were 3, but that day is not one we will ever forget.  

If I never have to hear my children in pain like that again, it would be too soon.  And it this post helps prevent even a single child from suffering the same pain as Abbie, than it was worth typing!

5 years.  21,900 days.  525,600 hours.  31,536,000 minutes.  1,892,160,000 seconds.

And yet, it feels like yesterday.

Happy 5th Burniversary Abbie girl.  I love you...

My Bucket List

If you have spent time around me much, you have probably heard me say that I didn't have a bucket list!  I have said it many times, and I had good reasons.  I look at every opportunity I have as a gift, and I am grateful for every experience I have had.  However, I consider myself pretty blessed, and there isn't much I feel I need to do before I "kick the bucket"!!  Over the last month or so though, I decided to start compiling a list of things that I really wanted to do before my time here is up, and the list grew quicker than I anticipated it would.

Have you ever stopped and thought about the little things that you may want to accomplish or experience in your lifetime?  No matter who you are, there are so many things you have done yet, so much of the world you haven't seen yet, and so much you probably want to do!

My list is in absolutely no order whatsoever, but everything on it is something I seriously want to do!
I have accomplished and experienced a lot in my 33 years, but I am far from finished!
So... drumroll please!  Here is my list.

And there you have it!  I guess I have some work to do to check some of these things off my list.  You don't learn another language by binge watching the newest Netflix series!  

Life is short, and I don't want to waste the rest of mine.

You Are

Over the last year, I have learned a lot about myself.  I have found the person that I want to be, and I appreciate the girl I see in the mirror now.  It took some hardships for that appreciation to build, and it took some soul searching for me to use the trials I have been through as a learning experience.  

One of the qualities that I like the most about myself is my honesty.  I am a transparent person and I tend to be an open book.  This also tends to be one of the things I dislike the most about myself.  I often find myself torn between having a private life, and not wanting to hide behind a wall.  

When my marriage ended, I was incredibly open and honest about what took place.  While I didn't want to drag anyone's name through the mud, I had no real reason to hold back when asked questions.  I took to my blog, as I often do to share my feelings, my opinions, and my fears for the future.  

When I blog, I expect a lot of things.  I expect that opinions will be formed about what I write, and I expect that not everyone will agree with what I say.  I expect that some will agree whole heartedly and will share the blog on their end.  This opens my opinions up to people I have never even come in contact with.  This being said, I tend to blog with a purpose.

I do not often write just to write.  I write with a reason, personal experience, and a goal of doing some good in the world, even in just a small blog kind of way.

What I didn't expect within the last 6 months was to become what I now call a "Poster Child" for divorce.  I honestly never believed in divorce.  I was the product of not 1 but 3 divorces and an additional separation.  I wanted to make sure that my kids weren't put through what I experienced years ago.  

However, when it happened, I shared.

That is what I do here.  I didn't realize that by doing this, I actually opened a door for so many people that I know and love to share with me about their marriages being on the rocks.  I was saddened every time I received a message from another friend about their marriage coming to an end as well. 

I had to step back and big picture this.  The most common message I was receiving was "How did you do it?"  They wanted to know real logistics, because they were drowning in the what ifs on their ends.  They were afraid to leave, afraid to walk away from horrible situations because they feared starting over.  They feared being on their own.  And most importantly they feared being alone.

I have been back in the world of adult dating for a few months now, and I have met some interesting people in the process!  I have met some serious duds and I have met some pretty cool people, which resulting in friendships if nothing else.

I thought I would take a second to share my thoughts on this whole dating situation with the people (male or female) that need to hear it to the most!

1)  YOU ARE ENOUGH.

This is something that you need to understand.  You do not NEED to be with someone just to feel like you are not alone.  One of the loneliest places I have ever sat was on a couch beside someone who didn't want to be with me.  I believed fully when I left that no one would ever want me again.  I now included 2 children, baggage which would be viewed as a complication.  "Why would anyone want to deal with me and this world I have created, because I am not worth it."  Except that I am worth it, because I am enough.  I do not have to be anything other than who I am.  Someone will want everything I have to offer one day, and until then... I can keep working on me! I can keep finding myself and learn what I have to offer.  I can prepare myself so that when this person walks into my life, I am ready.  Remind yourself that YOU ARE ENOUGH.  Write it on a piece of paper, and tape it to your bathroom mirror, make the lock screen on your phone an image that says that phrase, tattoo it on your wrist... I don't care what you have to do to remind yourself of this!  DO IT!

2)  YOU ARE STRONG.

You honestly do no know how strong you are until strong is the only option you have.  You will find strength that you didn't know existed.  If you are a parent, and you will now be raising kids alone... strong is not a choice.  You have to be there for them.  You have to be the rock they need in their life. Do little things for yourself that give you the ability to continue being their strength every single day. Emotions will happen.  Tears will fall.  You will scream and you will cuss.  Some days I find myself literally yelling at God.  Staring up at my ceiling, hands out, and screaming at him to fix it.  Help me, I know you can, so stop waiting around and just help me.  When you reach a point where you yell at God, it means your relationship is real!  Relationships include fights, so telling Him your fears and frustrations like you would your parents, your friends, your significant other... that makes it real.  There is no weakness behind emotion, so don't beat yourself up for feeling it.  Use that emotion to build strength.

3)  YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

When marriages end, it becomes incredibly easy to believe that you are unlovable, you are not worthy, you are not beautiful.  And I have news for you... that is bullshit!  (Yes, I love Jesus, and I cuss a little... some days a lot.)  One of the most important things to remember is not to get involved with anyone else until you can look at yourself in the mirror and love who you see.  If you can't love yourself, you are not ready to love another person.  There is no shame in confidence, and it takes time to build it.  Within a month of my agreement being final, I began to like the person I saw in the mirror.  She lost 30lbs, and she smiled a lot more than she had in the last 5 years combined.  She glowed, because the weight of the world had been lifted off of her shoulders.  Someone I love actually said to me...

"I didn't realize how unhappy you were.  I thought your personality was just who you were, and you are such a fun person now.  You are obviously happy now, and I hate that the person I knew before was so unhappy."

I didn't even realize how much my unhappiness had seeped into all of my other relationships.  I shut myself off to the world, and I hated who I became.  When you get a fresh start, SEIZE IT.  It is rare that you get a second chance in this lifetime, so find yourself.  Work on getting to a place that you smile when you look at your reflection.  You are beautiful, accept that!

4)  YOU ARE LOVABLE.

Believe it or not, there is someone out there praying that they meet you.  You don't know each other yet.  You may not have met.  But they are preparing themselves for the day you meet.  It may take weeks, months, or years, but it will happen.  In the meantime, enjoy the opportunity you have to meet new people.  Do not rush into a relationship so that you won't be alone.  Statistics show that 50% of marriages fail... but they also show that 67% of second marriages fail.  Even worse 73% of third marriages fail.  Why do you think that number gets higher and higher?  Because people rebound and settle.  If I am honest, coming out of a 10 year marriage meant that I had no freaking clue how to be a girlfriend again.  I found myself being "wifey" to anyone I went on a date with.  Thankfully I saw it, and immediately went to work on fixing this.  Practice being a friend.  When you build a friendship with someone, you are taking the time to get to know them.  You are not rushing something, you are not forcing something, you are not settling.  You deserve a happy relationship.  Your children deserve to be a part of something that they can look at and learn from.  Positive role models, loving environments, and a happy home.  Rushing into something because you fear that you are not lovable does everyone involved an injustice.  Mr Right is out there, so take your time because believe it or not someone would happily be a part of your life and love you the way you should be loved.

5)  YOU ARE SUPPORTED.

Lastly but certainly not to be overlooked.  Seek your support system.  You will find peace and feel a lot less anxiety when you surround yourself with a solid support system.  I had no idea how large my support system was until I opened up and let them in.  I had built walls of secrets around me, and when the walls fell down, people were knocking other people out of the way to help me, hug me, and be there for me.  Instead of pouring yourself into a new relationship fresh out of the gates, surround yourself with people who love you, care about you, and want to see you succeed.  Show your appreciation for them.  Spend quality time with them.  Tend to these relationships and watch how quickly you find that happiness you didn't know existed.  You can do anything you want to with the right amount of support!  Weed out the negative relationships in your life, and make sure that your tribe is PRO YOU!  

Starting over is scary.  Being a single parent is overwhelming.  Single life as an adult is strange to say the least!  But it is all an experience and if you look at it as an adventure and part of your journey... you won't feel so much anxiety!  

I am not sure that I am the best "Poster Child" for divorce, being a single parent, or anything for that matter, but what I can be is honest.  If you need honesty, I am your girl!  I am flattered that anyone would look to me for advice.  I am honored that people trust me with their stories and seek my opinions.  I will never share what I am told.  I will never judge you.  I will be honest, good or bad, because that is what real friendships are made from.  

If you have messaged me about your marriage, I have prayed for you.  I will continue to be here for you if you need a safe place to seek support.  I am currently writing a book!  That is correct, I am 5 chapters into writing a book about my experience.  I want to help how I can.  I have had an incredible group of supportive friends and family through this... and I am so grateful for all of you.

"But the Lord stood with me and gave me strength"

2 Timothy 4:17