Do you know how special you are?

Today would have been my 15th anniversary.  I've struggled what to write about a day that was indeed a fairy tale.  My dad spared no expense when it came to that day,  and other than a few minor mishaps, I would have changed little about that day. So as sad as this day is, it's not a day of mourning.  That day 15 years ago was magical, filled with hopes, dreams and whispered promises.  Some happened, others didn't.   My friend asked me to make my next blog post a little happier, hence my struggle on what to write about.  

There are two people that impacted my life in the past few years.

Almost a year a ago I got news that I was getting a new manager at work.  I was hesitantly excited.  I had heard fantastic things about this mini maestro, but I was apprehensive.  What I learned from Pat Burke is that I could do anything I wanted.  He made me feel smart which hadn't happened in years.  It was a short few months that I worked with him but for those few months I LOVED coming to work.  He made me believe in and value myself.  He questioned me and he exersised my mind as well as my confidence.  It was not always rosy, he was tough and he made sure that I didn't slack and that I was accountable for what I did.  We had the experiment of putting two very strong willed girls across from each other, similar to putting two fighting fish in the same tank, the chances of both of them surviving were marginal.  However his time was short and before I knew it, Pat had accepted another position and was leaving.  For weeks I cried any time anyone mentioned his name and to be honest I think often of how his short presence in my life help lift me when I really needed it.  

So you might ask wow, that's far reaching you had to go back to a boss that you had to find something positive to write.  There is a reason, I promise.  Earlier this week I got word that my old trainer was moving.  It wasn't till I got the news that he was leaving that I realized just how important Joe Perry was at a time where my life was at a crossroads.  No one realized my marriage was in shambles(not even me for that matter) nor did he know that I was a mess as well.  I was seriously overweight and mentally a disaster.  I was called names and shunned by my husband and at times my kids(they model behavior). I was called names that were sweetly embedded in pet names like shamuka(Shamu) and mootzerella(because I was indeed as big as a cow).  I walked into Joe's studio and I swear it was like a Disney movie.   It wasn't a lavish studio, but it didn't need to be. It smelled of sweat, grit, hard work, and it was the birth place of dreams.  Joe never let me give up, he pushed me to do the best I could, and when he didn't think that was my best, he pushed me more.  He made me feel beautiful with out uttering a word.  For that magical hour(don't get me wrong, he kicked my ass) my only care in the world was getting enough oxygen to stay alive(at times I had to sit and maybe even lay down).  After class life went back to my normal, my secrets still deeply hidden away. The most important thing Joe taught me was to defend myself.  As I got stronger and more confident both physically and mentally, I realized that the abuse had to stop.  As I worked out I often felt the stinging slap across my face and I realized that I was better than that.  

Today I stood in a parking lot, tears flowing down my face,  I said goodbye to Joe, perhaps forever,  as he heads off to Georgia to care for his family.  I wanted to thank Joe, because for all I know he saved me, but I didn't know where to begin.  I was at a loss for words, and I choked out a goodbye after some idle smalltalk.    So here I tell Joe,  I am eternally grateful.  Godspeed Mr. Perry, I wish you only the best, and I thank you for being a very special part of my life.