Why did I go camping alone?

Why would I do such a crazy thing? Because I needed to do something for me. Yes it may seem a bit drastic, but it was absolutely necessary. Here’s why…

I had several boyfriends growing up, but my first long term relationship started when I was 15. When I was 17, I got pregnant by said boyfriend and I believed I needed to marry him, because I didn’t want to share my child. Well, THAT was an awful idea. We should NEVER have gotten married, especially for those reasons.

In the process of divorce, I met husband #2. He swept me off my feet, but honestly it didn’t take much. In the beginning, we were all giddy and dressed alike and wanted to spend as much time together as possible. Along the way, we had 2 beautiful children and then we grew apart to the point that the divorce was really anything but amicable.

Along came another boyfriend. We had sparks from high school that were re-ignited after hours of talking on the phone working through another ending marriage (he had been there for me through the first divorce as well). Over time, that relationship also was not all it was cracked up to be at first.

So I’ve never been alone. I’ve never truly been single. And while I had many people tell me along the way that I SHOULD be, I didn’t listen. Because I’m stubborn and thought I knew better. I clearly didn’t know better. I’ve gone through years of therapy and finally have learned a few things about being introspective and identifying my issues.

Apparently being bullied to the point of death threats at the ripe age of 13 scarred me more than I could ever have realized on my own. I became a perfectionist, and when the adults that I looked up and respected either took the side of the girls that were bullying me or didn’t believe that I was innocent, my little developing brain thought I wasn’t worthy. I sought love from anyone who gave me attention. I clung to them with all of my soul. And I got into relationships that I shouldn’t have. Well into adulthood, obviously. Only now am I able to see this.

So this solo camping trip was my chance at redemption – to myself. Proof that I COULD do it on my own. Proof that I CAN enjoy my own company. Time to reflect and decide what is truly important in my life. Time to find me and be ok with all of my flaws. But also time to be proud of my own strengths and realize that I am actually capable of the things others tell me I am. Now that I’m in my 40s I can honestly say I feel supported by those around me, and I didn’t always feel that way. Yes there were a few, but that number is far more than I ever realized.

While I was alone on my trip, I was never lonely. I was content. I not only survived, I thrived. And I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.

Till death do us part?

What does that actually mean? “Till death do us part?” Physical death or death of the marriage?

When I told my ex-husband that I wanted a divorce, he seemed shocked. He later admitted he knew we had issues, but thought we had time to work on them “because we said vows”. So our marriage wasn’t going anywhere, in his mind. Umm, news flash – if you have issues, you need to deal with them. You can’t just ignore them “because you said vows”.

Every year when a new year comes along, people vow to make changes that they know they won’t keep. The difference with wedding vows is that when you make them, you actually intend to keep them. Unless you’re in Hollywood – I swear their marriages only last a few weeks on average anyway. Their “I do” means “I do right now”.

The thing about marriage vows is that both people need to uphold them. You can’t neglect your spouse and expect them to stay because you made vows. You can’t be emotionally abusive or emotionally absent and expect them to stay. You can’t keep them on eggshells and expect them to stay. Just like you can’t expect them to stay if you’re physically abusive, unfaithful, or otherwise overtly brushing off your vows.

Marriage is hard work. For both parties involved. No one else’s marriage or lack thereof can actually have an effect on your outcome – only the two people involved have that power. But let me tell you, you can only put up with so much before you can’t put up with anything else. Just like a sponge: it can soak up water to a point. There comes a time when it is saturated and can’t hold any more. That’s literally how it is with the end of a marriage sometimes. You deal with so much – until you can’t deal with one drop more.

My heart goes out to anyone making this tough decision. It’s not made lightly, no matter how “easy” it may look to outsiders. In a time of social media when we can make our lives look as perfect as we care to, we have no idea if anyone is truly struggling in their marriage – unless they tell us. Only the people in that house have any idea what’s really going on. And sometimes one person in the marriage turns a blind eye to what’s happening, because they don’t want to admit that things aren’t as perfect as they seem. They may see it as a sign of weakness to admit there are issues. Well, let me tell you, the weakness of the marriage will come to a breaking point if you don’t work on repairing it.

Just because you said vows doesn’t mean you need to be miserable now just to hold onto them. And don’t hold on for the kids – they need to see good role models. They need to see happy parents. If you’re going to hold on to any vows, hold on to the ones you make to yourself – vow to love yourself and not blame yourself if things don’t go as planned. Vow to respect yourself and your children enough to set good examples. Vow to not be miserable for the sake of someone else. No one else’s opinions matter, anyway.

Keeping up with the Joneses

Remember that phrase from childhood? Or did I just age myself? Remember when there would be those families on town that always seemed so perfect and had everything together, and they always had the best of everything? Remember that envious feeling you’d get when you’d see them? Thank goodness it wasn’t every day!

But now we see them every day. Everywhere. On Instagram. On Facebook. On Twitter. They have it all. They’re practically perfect in every way. And you just want to puke.

YOUR kids lose their homework. They don’t get ready when you tell them to. They wear clothes that have stains on them, because “it’s my favorite shirt”. They may or may not have worn that same stained shirt the day before… The kids don’t listen at the grocery store and you have to count to 3. Heaven forbid you have malted milk balls as a treat in with the meat & cheese roll ups and blueberries in their lunch. Is this just me here? Or do you have the same experiences?

But as we scroll on facetagram or instabook, or whatever social media platform it is we’re mindlessly scrolling when we have a million other things to do, and we see all the perfection, we start to feel imperfect. We start to feel “less than”. And we start to wonder who’s judging us.

I used to live the ‘Facebook perfect’ life. Everything looked amazing on my Facebook page. Even my marriage that was less-than-perfect. And people were a bit surprised when we got divorced. Well, I wasn’t. I was in the trenches. I knew the truth. And I wasn’t surprised. And you know what? I’m not alone. People are living their truths every day, thinking they’re less than other people because of what gets blasted in our faces daily.

So why do we still feel the need to keep up with the Joneses? We SHOULDN’T! We should be free to live our own imperfect lives. Because it’s our lives, after all. Whether you’re a bento box mom or Uncrustable with a GoGo squeeze applesauce (real lunch that was packed this week), you’re still a great mom. Just ask your kids.

Finding yourself

Do you know who you really are? Do you know what makes you tick? Do you feel “stuck” in life? Did you answer these questions in your head as you read them? Then keep reading.

21 years ago I became a mom, then I became a mom again 10 and 6 years ago. And I guess I can say I’ve identified as mom and/or wife most of the time since then. I mean, sure, I had things I liked to do, but my kids always came first and my wants/needs took the back seat. Hell, if my kids eat all their food and they’re still hungry, I STILL give them food off my plate. Good weight loss program, I suppose.

I’m not saying I no longer want to or do pay attention to my kids; on the contrary, actually. I have realized I need to do things that are good for me in order to set a good example for my kids. I used to use the excuse that I couldn’t work out when I wanted to because I didn’t want to miss out on time with my kids. But now I’ll have my kids work out with me. Even if they don’t actually do the workout, they’re in the same room as me and we can talk and giggle together while I’m getting sweaty. And when I need to be on the computer to get some work done, I can give them some of their much coveted electronic time as well, and we can be sitting together on our devices. That way they get what they want, I get what I need, and we can spend time playing card games when I’m done.

It’s easy to lose focus on yourself. But at some point you start to feel empty. When you find that thing you love and that makes you tick, you get rejuvenated, and you’ll actually be a better parent. You’ll be more fun again. Just ask my kids.

You have not failed anyone

I grew up in the church, always active in the church – as a small child I was a “clown for Christ” (yes, a CLOWN! Yikes!), then I was a part of our bell choir, regular choir, New Life teen band; I once referred to myself as a “dork for Jesus”. In my early 20s, you could still find me in our church choir, but in a much larger church and much larger choir. Then in 2007 we moved to Iowa, and I haven’t called a church “home” ever since…

Whether you’re a church-going person or not, you have SOMETHING that you do religiously. Maybe fishing or hiking is your church, maybe serving others is your church, maybe you don’t do anything at all or you don’t believe in God. Whatever the case, I ask you to continue reading. Because there’s a point to this message.

I know when we moved away from Minnesota, I was comparing every church to my Minneapolis church, and nothing compared. Not even close. So I struggled to find a church home because of comparison. It’s probably no surprise that I struggled in my marriage because of comparison, too. We seemed like we were doing ok. I would see the struggles in other relationships and think ours weren’t as bad, or so I thought. I didn’t really know what a good healthy relationship these days should look like.

When we moved back to the Minneapolis area, we used the excuse that our old church was too far away and we wanted the kids to be able to be in church school with their regular school friends. But we still didn’t find a local church home. Nothing met the standards we had set from our Minneapolis church. So we continued not to go to church, and I continued to have a growing void in my life. In my marriage, in my relationship with God, in my relationship with myself.

In the words of one of our marriage, and then uncoupling, counselors, I had grown disgusted with our marriage. It was not what I had imagined, and I fought by myself for a long time to try to keep it alive. To no avail. Because a marriage isn’t sustained by one person alone.

I had started working on personal development because of the lack I was feeling in my life, and as I read books and listened to podcasts, I learned a lot of things about myself. I tried to improve these things, but I couldn’t do it by myself. In the process of divorce, I stopped going to our uncoupling counseling, because it was just making me more angry, and started going to my own therapist. In a previous blog post, I identified that we traced the start of my personal issues back to when I was 13. When I had adults in my life that I looked up to and respected, not believe what I was saying and instead support the people who were bullying me. For 26 years, I’ve been waiting for an adult I admire and look up to, to tell me that I hadn’t failed them and I was worthy of love and respect.

As we went through the tedious and angering steps of the divorce, I avoided the church. I became ANGRY with God. How could He have led me astray with my marriage and let me keep my blinders on for so long? How could He keep putting health issues on me and adding more stress to my life? God only gives you what you can handle? I call B.S. I’ve gotten WAY more than I could handle in the last few years. And then some.

After meeting with friends recently, and having started to feel the need/desire to go to church again, I finally sent a message to my old minister, the one that had married me and my ex-husband, requesting a time to sit down with him. He had time that week. I was shaking as I drove to see him. I got in his office and almost immediately started crying as I poured out a synopsis of what happened to my marriage. And I admitted that I had let my pride get in the way of coming back. I didn’t want to admit that my marriage wasn’t successful. I felt like I had failed him and God because I hadn’t stayed married. He told me the words I needed to hear – I hadn’t failed him or God, and mistakes are human. And anger is a natural feeling and was expected given all I’ve been through. And that God hadn’t left me alone all this time, but He had suffered through all of it with me. And He still loved me. He told me I’m still a good person with a lot of inner strength. He invited me back into the church, and encouraged me to get back into the choir.

I’ve needed to hear those words for 26 years. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I’ve felt a peace that I can’t even recall when I’ve felt last.

Have my friends and family and my boyfriend told me I’m loved in this process and that I’m a good person? Of course they have. So why didn’t that do the trick? Because it was adults with authority, adults I looked up to and trusted to help me grow up into a responsible adult, that had let me down when I was 13. I needed someone with that same authority figure to fix it. I’m so thankful for my minister. I’m thankful for the words that he said, the meaning and love behind them, and the sincerity with which he welcomed me back. None of it is a magic wand that will make everything amazing overnight, but it certainly makes the road ahead that much more bearable.

What is it that you need to be able to truly feel that you are worthy, and to start believing the positive words that others tell you? Because you haven’t failed anyone. The only person you have to explain anything to is yourself, and you’re already forgiven.

Tired of being tired

Some days are better, some days worse, but in general I’m so tired of waking up and feeling like I need another week of sleep.

This chronic fatigue business is for the birds. If I didn’t have insomnia to go along with it, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But waking up today feeling like I was swallowing broken glass, being a snot factory (so I know I’m getting sick yet again), having a hard time holding my hair brush to brush my hair, and feeling completely wiped out, I’m feeling a little defeated. So what better thing to do than journal this with a poem, right?

I’m tired of being tired….

I’m tired of being tired.

I’m sick of being sick.

I just want to be normal again.

I wake up in pain.

I go to bed in pain.

Same shit, different day.

I was a runner.

I lifted weights.

People considered me strong.

Now it hurts to curl my hair.

Now it hurts to lift a gallon of milk.

I don’t consider me strong.

I’ve always been motivational.

I’ve always helped support others.

I never asked anyone to support me.

Now I’m tired of being tired.

I’m sick of being sick.

And I fear I’ll never be normal again.

Hope y’all are having a better Friday than me.

My happy place

Why is it that those with the least amount of reserve are sometimes the ones giving the most to others?

In healthcare there is a thing called caregiver strain. Those caring for a loved one or working full time caring for patients in a hospital or other healthcare facility can actually get burned out from giving so much emotionally and physically to the ones they serve. And it can be detrimental to THEIR health.

With a bit of introspection (and the help of a trained professional) I learned today that I continually give to support others even when my own reserves are running dry. As my children are learning in school, there are cup fillers and cup drainers. I fill the cup of those around me, even if it means that my last drop is given away. Can you say the same? Do you get as much support from others as you, yourself, give? Or are you the one always getting support but you don’t give a lot in return? No judgment here, just a question.

So I need to find things on a regular basis that fill my cup again. I’ve been given a prescription to do something I enjoy and that helps me relax. I guess I’m bad enough at relaxing that I had to be given a prescription for it. Now, to find that relaxing thing…

Back in the day, I wrote poetry and songs and stories, I painted…lately my only release has been exercise but I haven’t been able to do it in 3 weeks. This is not good for my mental health! So back to that poetry…here goes my first assignment…

My Happy Place

The sun setting on the horizon

The breeze gently blowing through my hair

I sit in my comfy chair on the porch

Curled up in my favorite blanket

Listening to the crickets and the frogs and the owls just waking up.

The kids are in bed

Tucked under the covers

Gentle purring comes from their rooms.

Not a care in the world

My heart slows and keeps beat with the bullfrogs in the water.

I watch as the first stars come into view in the darkening sky

And start to see the moon’s reflection on the calm water of the lake.

Out in the yard

I hear the crackling of the campfire

The delicious smell of the freshly fallen wood taking flame fills my nose.

I join my love by the fire and watch the dancing flames.

This is my happy place.

I feel pretty

I walked by a store yesterday that sold skin care products – I unknowingly engaged in conversation that led to a skin care demonstration and the gal tried selling me $300 worth of skin care products, all the while commentingn that I had great genetics because I didn’t look my age. Umm, did I miss something here?

I used to be excellent and so consistent with my workouts, until my stress level reached the fan and the shit spread for miles in the last year+. When I was a kid, I had all the confidence in the world in my looks and thought I was beautiful. As a teenager I still recognized that I could catch people’s attention, but I lost a little of my personal mojo. I started gaining weight after high school and kept thinking I had a pretty face, but didn’t really like myself from the neck down.

Then I found exercise in my mid-twenties and loved how it made me feel. I had times when I loved my body, even after having kids, because I was in shape and I was skinny. Then I’d go through stressful patches and put on weight again. Then I’d lose it again. And so on and so on, into the weight yo-yo program I go. Ugh.

Then in my mid-thirties I was in the best shape of my life and of course shit hit the fan and my life imploded. And I gained 30 lbs in a year. So many colorful words for this.

But I’ve recently gotten back into my healthy habits and have been feeling, dare I say, sexy again! I went shopping for clothes to wear for my conference in Hawaii, where I currently am, and the clothes all fit! So I had the choice of what I wanted to wear vs what actually fit me, which is what I had gotten used to have happening.

Which brings me to the story of the skin care products. So while this woman was trying to talk me into buying expensive skin care products because I needed to start taking care of myself, she asked me how old I was. I answer that I’m 39, and she stops for a moment and looks at me surprised, and comments on how good my skin looks. Duh, I don’t need your skin care products. I was just being nice and talking to the other woman in front of the store that was giving me a sample packet of your products. I didn’t realize I was getting sucked in to try to spend money because you know I’m here for a conference.

And tonight I put on a sexy dress and went to an awards banquet. And I felt pretty. And before the banquet I sat on the beach in a swim suit and didn’t care that there were young chicks all over with thong bikinis and their asses hanging out. Because I feel pretty, and I don’t look my age, even without your $300 skin care products.

To post or Not to post…that is the question

Do you remember the days of 35mm film, or did I just age myself?

I was in a conversation the other day where we were talking about the pros and cons of digital vs 35mm photography. Which do you prefer?

Back in the days of 35mm, you couldn’t see what you just took a picture of. It may not be perfect. (Bite your nails and pray that at least ONE picture turned out!) You had 24, maybe even 36 chances to get a picture of what you wanted, then you had to take the roll of film out of the camera, take it to the drug store, and wait about a week to see what turned out. You could ask for duplicate prints if you wanted to share. And there were times I got duplicates of fuzzy pictures with not a single photo I could use, and nothing to show for my day with the camera. I also had a time where we learned we were about 25 feet from a giant bull moose in the mountains when we opened the door of our tent as the sun was starting to come up. My flash went off and all that turned out in the picture (weeks later) was the reflection of the flash off the moose’s eyes…two little yellow dots with a black background. Ugh!

You also had to be careful not to let the film get too hot or cold, or get exposed to light, and you better take care of those negatives in case you wanted to reprint something or get something enlarged! And those precious photos you took went directly into a hard cover album so you could share them and keep them forever, regardless if they were “perfect”.

Fast forward to today – we all have digital cameras, or even better, our phones! We snap as many pictures as we want and then proceed to stare at the camera or phone for a while (even in the presence of our friends or family) to choose the perfect images. And if everyone wasn’t smiling in the picture? Well, delete that one and start over. Candid shots? A thing of the past. Why actually GET candid shots when you can MAKE it look candid? And how about those precious hundreds of photos on your phone? Are you going to print them and put them in a photo album? Oh HELL no, just post the few perfect ones on social media and move along. But keep the 1000s of photos right there on your phone, because you can just get a memory card to keep them or, better yet, buy more storage on your device so they can continue to sit there forever.

And how “real” are those photos you post? You make sure the lighting is just right, everyone’s smiles are perfect, the hair is just right, suck the gut in, stick the boobs out…there you go, post THAT one! Success! Now you look just like the cover of that magazine you passed by earlier in the day. Because heaven forbid you post the picture that has a shirt on the floor behind you, or a hair out of place, or you catch someone mid-laugh with that real twinkle in their eye. And heaven forbid you post a picture without makeup, or a bra, and that sweaty workout selfie? Fix your ponytail first so it’s straight. Pull your top straight so your rolls don’t show…

What’s the point to all of this? We’re all striving for some form of “perfect” that doesn’t exist. My perfect and your perfect likely aren’t the same. You and I probably don’t drink the same adult beverage. Maybe you don’t even drink an adult beverage – gasp! For years I posted only “perfect” images. My ex and I would pose for several selfies (because who asks a STRANGER to take a picture for you anymore?) while on “date night”, while we kept checking our watches to see if it was too early to pick the kids up from their “parents night out” activity, because we apparently couldn’t figure out what to do as a couple for the whole 4 hours of their activity. Perfect happy couple? Of course! Don’t these smiles show that everything is perfect? The best real smiles we had were back in 35mm days when we stared at each other dreamily. Sure we had more recent real smiles, but it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies either.

And my workout photos? I had my remote on my write and I could take video after video or photo after photo, then would spend the next 10 minutes (my “cool down”) sorting through to find the ones where my belly rolls didn’t show, my granny arms weren’t evident, I didn’t have a goofy look on my face…and I would post the best. Now I post the goofy ones. Because those are real. And sometimes when my kids are working out with me, they do the most adorable things, and there’s no way I could delete those videos or pictures just because I don’t look perfect. Those are the ones I have to share, because they’re precious. Real life is precious. We should post more of that.