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.

Always choose the louboutins

Today is a milestone.

It's not one I'm proud of and to be honest I'm hoping it's a date that will one day slither to the back of my mind.  One day it will be just another date....better yet, maybe a date of liberation, freedom, happiness,   A year ago my marriage officially ended.  The DNR to our relationship was signed and dated by both parties.  Let's get something straight....my marriage was never rainbows, butterflies and bunnies.  It was a convenience, one filled with lies, cheating, deceit and sadly abuse.  Call me crazy, I still consider it a failure.  We are taught as kids to never throw in the towel.  We are bombarded with the good guy winning, the fairy tale, happily ever after.  Mine was not.  It was a relationship with one sided love, I can honestly say I was never loved by my ex, or any other man in a relationship for that matter.  It's a hard fact to realize, I see videos of 80 year old still in love like teens, It's something I never had in my 20's, and I have to wonder if I ever will.  With theses revelations it brought the end of other failures like a tsunami of sorrows.  The dreams of a third child-all but gone, the state my kids are in, and the failure of promises made to each other.  I see couples face cancer, depression, addiction, how do they make it through?  How do some relationships withstand the storm and get stronger? It's a question that I can't answer and still wonder.  How did I get so "lucky"?  Was it to teach me lessons on strength and perseverance?  A lesson on sharpening my radar? A warning to heed for other relationships that the sticky sweet Facebook lives we see are often mere fantasy?  The fact is that my marriage and my short other relationships have hardened me.  I find it hard to trust, hard time put the fence down.  It's not like a regular picket fence it hard razor sharp barbed wire along the top. Often when I think of  getting close  to someone that barbed wire comes into place.  Do I have the ability to love again?  I read something today that relationships are like shoes, I liked this and thought more on the subject.  You try them on, some fit, some don't.  Often they rub the wrong way and cause friction.  Sometimes you have more than one pair....The problem is that these days people are so ready to discard shoes because of any minor scuff or blemish.  What people don't understand is that cheaper is not always better.  Always choose the louboutins. You'll take better care of them and they'll last a lifetime.  A pair of shoes that are worth repair, that you will love, value, wear them proudly, and care for them.  They aren't always comfortable but you grit your teeth and deal with it.  The bottom line, love what you have, screw what you don't (figuritively people) and smile.  Today I'll be smiling through tears, I'll hit the gym to work through some rough spots, buy myself some flowers, I wouldn't want to do it in any other pair of my shoes but....my Louboutins....

Communication is key

It's amazing what a make it or break it communication is in a relationship.  Sure trust and attraction is important but when it comes down to it, communication has to happen when things are bad, and good for that matter.  Respect is good communication.  It is speaking the truth, speaking kindly, and speaking boldly, as a relationship if strong and true can handle true. 

My last dating relationship was for the most part good.  Despite some minor differences we had super bad communication.  To be honest it was doomed from the start because of our lack of us.  So bad, that when he ended the relationship, it ended via a text that said something about not wanting to work on us anymore.  After 6 months I thought I would be deserving of a phone call or a visit.  It was a wake up call when I met a new friend that may turn out to be more(that fortune cookie may be correct).  He wears his heart in his sleeve, is not afraid to express his feelings and prefers to speak, instead of text(I'm working on that).  

Why is it socially acceptable to break up, divorce or even propose marriage via text?  When did we stop talking and instead turn to texting?   My marriage was not salvageable but lack of communication, truth and honesty doomed any chance of friendship or even acquaintanceship. Why do we not feel that our loved ones are deserving of clear concise communication-everywhere, for everything.  From the office to the in the bedroom, the kids to our bosses and coworkers, we owe it to ourselves and those in our lives whether we want them there or not.   

One of my goals is to make sure my boys turn into acceptable men.  Good communication, good manners, and respecting those around them. Talk out their problems, speak their feelings (when did this become taboo as a boy), and be a good citizen.  

In friendship relationships we must be able to speak our feelings, speak and respect our differences, and not lose the art of communication.  It is an endangered species that we must protect. 

Close to home

The kardashian/Jenner dialog that is playing out tonight on I am Cait hits a little close to home.  It's good to watch but somewhat hard to watch.  Good for Cait for finally be what she wants to be. Kudos to her for finally sitting down and talking to Kris.


Be proud of who you are, especially if you are going to change your family dynamic to do it, be proud and be confident.  Most importantly don't hide and don't lie, and don't treat the ones that you once loved with hate and malice.  Finally, love yourself.

Austin here we come!

The last time I did the Kansas City to Austin trek I happened to be on the flight with a TKD parent that I now miss and think of every once in a while, Mr. Hankins. I remember fondly the three of us sitting at a southwest terminal bar, catching up and chatting.  Amazing just a few short years later to head back and remeber that memory- if that time could be bottled up and saved as a souvenir I would do it in a heartbeat. Mr Hankins has since passed, and well........then there is all of my changes.  There was nothing grandiose about that short layover,  I remember nothing about the conversation, this morning I had a hard time remembering if Ryan was with us.  What I I think it was, looking back to see the simplicity and innocence of life was there and we had no idea.

So much has changed, and as much as I love all my TKD parent family, I find it so difficult to relate to  any of them, as does Ryan.  My day to day a constant struggle.  How am I going to swing getting Ryan to a middle of the day practice?   Father/son workouts?  A carefree life?   I see these women, and these families and I hope to one day have a piece of that.  A family unit and some semblance of normalcy.  Don't get me wrong, it's part me.  I hesitate to give out any information, I trust few and that trust is easily broken, I'm quiet, a bit more introverted and I watch myself and Ryan like a hawk.

As we head to Austin for nationals I can't wait to see how all the kids do. Cheering on the team and bringing back the gold but I cringe at the awkwardness that I predict.  I can't wait to share in the happiness, see some old friends and start new beginnings.

Memories of mom

As I lay in bed, my mind cluttered with thoughts, I realize what a gift it is that Ryan is competing on what would have been my mom's 70th birthday.  A few people have sent me messages asking why a visit to my mom post separation/divorce would be so hard?  The reason is simple, I often wonder if she would have seen through Richard, if she would have known that he was the wrong guy, a fake, and had she,  would I have listened?  

The truth is the death of my mom shaped me into who I am.  Raised by a single father I never got the chance to learn how to wear makeup, paint my nails, and do things that most girls do with their moms.  I had glimpses of what that was like, when I spent time with Richards mom. It's one of my biggest sadnesses of the divorce and one of the few people I mourn that I've lost through this nasty process of divorce and separation.

  

It's not all terrible, I have an amazingly strong relationship with my dad, I rarely wear makeup, and until recently didn't do my nails.  I do wonder how having her around would have shaped me as a person?  Would I do things different? Could I be less direct and rough around the edges?  There are days that I wish I could ask her, what she would have done?  How do I start over?  Did she know?  Am I doing things right? 

Every once in a while I swear there are signs that she sends me.  Just a few days ago I met a long lost friend that has been doing mission trips in Romania.  I can't wait to hear the stories as I feel like I'm missing some of my Romanian heritage.  

I do wish that my boys got to meet her, and I in a way wish that I did as well.  I don't remember a lot about my mom and the stories told to me often masquerade   as my own memories.  I don't remember her voice, her scent or her touch but have a few story's I've heard, and have a sprinkling of pictures of her that are proudly displayed at home. 

So today is special for all of us.  I've told Ryan that he's competing on his grandma's  birthday.  To him she's a mythical creature that I'm not sure he understands, but it's important to me to preserve what ever strings of heritage, love, and memories I can.....to to her I say I love and miss you, and I hope that I'm doing it right..... 

New beginnings

Today I awoke, my familiar, schedule was altered with the loss of my job Friday.  I woke up devastated, and became moreso as I read about the death last night of a former co-worker.

So I lost my job,.  My first thought as I laid in bed with sunlight flooding in my windows?  What am I going to do and what did I do to deserve this?  The past few years have been less than kind to me.  The events made me realize that I had come too complacent in my employment and my life.  It's like the familiar drive to work in the AM when you don't remeber how you got to your destination.  How did I miss the homeless man on the corner?  The sunrise?  Why is it ok to skip my morning run?  Is it good enough to work in a job, no.....work your ASS off for a company that treats you as a commodity?  The fact that I grieved the loss of my job is somewhat of a farce.....is my absence felt by my co workers?  The administration?

When did I lose sight of the simple things in life?  For years I've driven to and from work as a zombie collapsing in bed or in front of the TV so spent and exhausted.  Our employers want us to do more and expect less.  Why do we allow this?  How dare I......how dare we  compromise our well being and live the hum drum lives of a workaholics?

  So what's next?  I'm obviously pounding the pavement in the hopes of finding the right job.  My hope?  To find my passion!  To find a job that allows me to love my job and the people I work with. A company that cares about me as much as I care about them.  To love what I do and to give back to a community that is so deserving of passion.

I hope all of you take an inventory of your lives.  What's truly important?  What's not?  What are your dreams and are you moving towards them in the escalator of life?  It took the loss of my job and the loss of a distant co worker to look at mine.  I plan to smell the roses, enjoy my kids and my dogs , volunteer, get back into working out, sleep in, enjoy the sunrises and the sunsets, and stop to give that homeless man on the street what I can afford.