Future Mrs. Badass!

I’m a week and a half late in posting this, but on September 30, Mr. Badass asked me to become Mrs. Badass!  🙂  Of course, I said yes.  🙂

 

Here is the ring:

 

We had it custom made at the Jeweler on the bottom.  They were amazing to us, gave us a fair price, and did exactly what we wanted.  Some of the stones and gold were made from a ring Mr. Badass gave me almost ten years ago.  That was super special and meant a lot.

 

As far as a story of the proposal?  I’ll do my best.  Basically we had this ring made, so I knew it was on the horizon.  I kept teasing Mr. Badass, saying, “Now, you know you can’t just like say, ‘Okay, here you go.’ and we’re engaged, right?  I want fireworks!”  He kept telling me I’d have to wait until Independence Day, then.  But anyway on the 30th on a whim I found a new haunted house we hadn’t ever been to before, or really even heard of.  When he got home from work around noon, I said to him, “We should go tonight.”  He said okay and we got ready and off we went.  We got there early, though and walked around Cabela’s (which was a few miles down the road) for a bit.  Everything seemed normal.
When we got to the haunted house and got in line to get in, we were surrounded by what had to be the most obnoxious group of middle schoolers I have ever met.  I was starting to re-think our evening.  But we committed, drove the hour to get there, and had stood in line, so we were going in.  We got in and walked around for a bit.  We looked at some of the attractions and toured a few of the smaller things.  We got some bottles of water and decided to sit while the sun finished setting.  We found some cute little benches with a canopy over them and we were just sitting there.  I was looking around, people watching like I do sometimes, and Mr. Badass tapped my shoulder.  I turned and looked at him and he said, “Marry me?”  “What?!” I said, totally caught off guard and slapped my hand over my mouth.  He said it again and gestured with his eyes down to his hand, where my ring was.  “Marry me.”  he said with a smile.  “Well duh!  Yes!”  I said.  He put the ring on my finger and it was time for huge hugs and kisses!  🙂 Shortly after two of the employees (one who actually owned the place and the other was his right-hand man) came over to ask us how our night was and when we told them we had gotten engaged, we got the royal treatment!  We were given free t-shirts, free food, invited to actually have our wedding there (however I don’t know that would work considering some of our older guests would have to navigate around without a wheelchair), and the Radio Station that was there even gave us a free CD.  It was very neat!  All of the employees had little radios and were told who we were and gave us little words of “congrats” as we walked by or after they tried to scare us.  Well, it was mostly me they were scaring.  As I have a tendency to giggle when I’m nervous!

It was a great night.  And their actual Haunted House was very, very cool.  One of the best I’ve ever been to, if not THE best.  🙂  It definitely had the best atmosphere, best employees, and funniest side-attractions I’ve ever seen at a place like that.  And the deep-fried oreos are DELICIOUS!  If you’re from around here and want to know where it is, comment or e-mail me and I’ll get you the info!

Woot, woot!  I’ll be a Mrs. Badass hopefully this time next year!!

 

“I fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly, and then all at once.”  John Green

It’s time to face the fats, I mean FACTS.

Okay, ladies & gents, I’m going to be honest with myself, and include you all I suppose.  One of my biggest struggles My BIGGEST STRUGGLE is that I don’t LOVE ME.  I’ve said it before.  I’ve come a long way though.  Acceptance of the past.  Owning up to my mistakes.  Relieving myself of some relationships that were not safe or healthy for me.  But one thing I have struggled with for a long time has been the physical me, that is my body.

Now, I’m not talking about thinking “oh I’m so fat, I’ll never be happy until I’m not fat.”  Trust me.  I am happy.  I’ve just got some weight on me that I need to shed.  Let me try to explain.

So, you know on shows like, The Biggest Loser, when some of the contestants have that A-HA moment?  That moment part-way into the season when they maybe have been half-assing it and making up excuses for why they can’t do something, and then they have this epiphany with a trainer or a friend.  They realize maybe what the deeper-rooted issue was that they were holding onto, or using their weight to hide behind?  Right.  Well I went for a nice walk with Jezabel (that’s my big hairy dog, and one of my best/most trusted friends) this morning, and I may have had my moment.

I had been up since 2am.  The Ambien I took for sleep helped me to fall asleep, but not stay asleep.  And, 4 hours into my sleep, I was wide awake for the second night in a row.  I laid there in bed for two hours, tossing and turning and thinking and trying not to think.  I finally got out of bed around 4am.  Tackled the mountain of laundry that needed folding, finished laundering the cloth diapers, and worked on the last load of laundry needing to be washed for the week.  Baked pumpkin muffins, chocolate pumpkin muffins, and blueberry muffins for Mr. Badass and his coworkers.  Sat around.  Watched the last couple episodes of season 4 of The Secret Life of the American Teenager.  Picked up a bit.  And it magically ended up as 9am.

Not that anybody else in the world can relate (I’m sure), but once in a while I just have self-pity days.  I don’t like them.  But I get frustrated.  I look at things in my life and just pick myself apart.  Drives me nuts that I dove headfirst into the marriage I did, only to be divorced five years later.  Irritated that I’ve struggled with infertility ever since I really wanted kids, and then get irritated again that the chance I had at motherhood thus far ended in me making the wrong choice to have an abortion when I was still a child myself.  Pissed off that I dropped out of college when I did get married, instead of just finishing after 3 years.  Mad at my finances.  Hurt by friends or family (which is usually just me taking everything too personally).  Angry that I can’t just be healthy.  Just a whole lot of grumpy, pissed off, bad attitude.  And then, to top it all off, I hate my body.

Seriously folks, I’m not obese or anything.  I’ll put it out there, I’m just over 5’9″ and weigh in at less than 185.  I know, there are plenty of people quite literally in worse shape than me.  But I can’t just be normal fat, I’m stupid shaped fat.  I’m hold-it-all-in-the-middle-and-have-no-ass kind of fat.  I’m the girl with the huge rack and big belly but chicken arms and legs.  I’m the girl who people see and go, “hmmm is she fat or a couple months pregnant??”  I just don’t gain weight like normal people.   So my body pisses me off too.

With a whole lot of self-hatred about being fat, I decided to go for a walk.  Threw my hair in a ponytail.  And for some odd reason, I grabbed Jezabel and off we went.  We weaved in and out of the back streets of town.  Walked over to my brothers’ place, and on to Mr. Badass’ work to meet him when he got off of work to get a ride home.  All-together about 3 miles, maybe a little more.  Somewhere in the second mile, briefly after we left my brother’s house, I kind of started crying.  So I sat down on the sidewalk like a big fat baby.  Jezabel was caught off guard by my sudden stop and whipped around and started whining.  I kind of grabbed her by her scruff of her neck and told her to chill out, in a really snappy tone.  She just looked at me and licked me all over my face.  I pushed her back but she wouldn’t stop.

I was so annoyed with her.  She was relentless.  I just dropped her leash and told her to go away.  She froze.  Anybody who knows this dog knows that’s a dumb idea, cause she’s a runner.  I was so frustrated with her, for a split second, I really didn’t care if she ran away.  Instead of running, she just did a full circle in front of me and sat right there, eye to eye with me, about six inches from my nose.  “leave me alone.” I said to her.  She usually knows when I’m mad and goes and does her own thing.  But not today.  She just sat there, nobody holding her leash to make her stay, and did that damned thing that puppies do when they hear a new sound.  You know, the whole ridiculously cute head cocks to one side thing?  Yeah.  And then I started laughing.  She cocked her head again and then jumped on me, knocking me back into the grass and had her feet on my chest and just about licked me to death.

In that moment, I realized that I treat myself just like I treated her.  Things about me that annoy me, that I’m not proud of, etc, I just tell them to go away, ignore them, reject them.  I crush my own spirits (which is why its funny when other people try, I’ve usually beat myself to the punch), tear myself down.  Give up on things I’m passionate about or enjoy doing, like singing, writing, or drawing, because it seems easier than pursing my goals and dreams, or because somebody told me I wasn’t good enough..  I remember that I was not raised this way—my parents did a great job of teaching me that I am worthy of love, respect and not to live in fear of judgment.  That I can accomplish anything I put my mind to.  So why the hell am I treating myself like dirt?  Why am I dismissing me instead of embracing me?  If my big goofy dog can still love me after I shove her, yell at her, and practically tell her she could run away forever and I wouldn’t care, (not to mention I feed her nasty dog food everyday), why can’t I love me?  I sighed, got up with her leash in my hand and started walking.

I continued to think about all of this.  And it hit me; just because I have an ugly thing in my past, or have made some unhealthy choices, doesn’t mean that I have to let those things physically manifest in my present.  Period.  I can acknowledge them.  But its my responsibility to myself to let them go.  I cannot hold on to things and use them as an excuse for why I can’t move on from them.  I do not have to keep this weight or ugliness around.  I need to set myself free from it.  So I’m going to.  And for me, part of that is done, the emotional part, anyway.  I feel like I have emotionally dealt with pretty much all of my problems.  Now I just need to shed the physical part that I’ve been holding on to for just as long.  And I’m going to pick up some of the things I’ve loved that I quit over the years.

Maybe some people think that’s silly.  Maybe it only makes sense to me.  All I know is that it does make sense to me.  So I’m going to keep walking.  And I’m going to maybe do yoga in my free time.  I’m going to pray and meditate more.  I’m going to create.  And I’m going to sing.  🙂  Maybe I won’t be super thin and have abs or a great ass.  But I’m going to work on being, feeling, and believing that I’m beautiful, strong, and whole, inside and out.  This last years has been rooted in self-awareness, self-discovery, and now self-acceptance.  So I’m going to work on me.

“We don’t see things the way they are.  We see them the way we are.”  — Talmud

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Photo Shoot Share: Lil’ C

I admit, one of my dream jobs would be to own a small business as a photographer.  Because I don’t really have a degree or anything, I just shoot for family and friends and referrals beyond that.  When my best friend since I was 12 (Ms. Squiggles) asked me to take her son’s 3 year photos, I was really excited.  I took this little guy’s (Lil’ C) photos for his first Christmas back in 2009.  I was honored to be asked to do them again.  The 100% truth is, that the kiddo’s birthday is in August (like mine) and August around here is unpredictable and usually still very hot.  There were lots of evenings in August that the temp was still high 80’s or more at around 8pm!  So we waited it out and last Friday was amazing—couldn’t have asked for a better day for photos!  And Lil’ C is one of the best subjects I’ve had.  He’s very expressive, funny, and eager to please.  He was a joy to work with!  I’ve edited about  3/4 of them, still have some more to go.  But I couldn’t resist sharing some of my favorites!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why I’m not voting this time around…

I am slightly irritated with Facebook and all other social media right now.  I guess I shouldn’t be annoyed with the medium itself, but the content everybody is posting right now.  I have the whole span from the farthest Left-Wing Democrat/Independents to the most legalistic Right-Wing Conservative/Republicans and everything in-between on my friend lists.  People have every right to say what they want, I’m all for that.  But, I mention that I don’t vote and I’ve been bombarded with, “well I hope you don’t complain about things like gas prices, insurance, etc….”  and “how dare you not exercise your right to vote, especially as a woman.” and so on and so forth.  The truth is, no, I don’t plan to vote in the 2012 election.    Don’t throw any rotten tomatoes or bricks at me, please.  I’ll tell you why I make this personal decision.  If my high school government teacher read this, she would probably be furious with me.

First, I will start off by saying that I have voted.  But the last presidential election I didn’t and I won’t for this one.  I also would like to state that I am not saying I’ll never vote, either.

My primary reason for not voting has to do with location.  The truth of the matter is, my state is a right-wing RED state.  It has been since the dinosaurs were here and it will be for many, many years to come, I’m sure.  I’m not saying that politically my thoughts are aligned with or against the Republicans; simply stating that regardless of how I feel, on the big issues (presidential ones especially) the title of “the GBR State” might as well mean Great Big Repulican, too.

Another reason I don’t vote, is because politically, I am all over the place.  Some issues, I would like to think I’m Liberal on, such as Public Assistance, Family programs, animal rights, and social service-issues.  Other issues, I’m probably a little more conservative.  The big issue, Pro-Life or Pro-choice, I find myself completely on the fence about.  Especially having gone through an abortion, and knowing the way it has affected me and my life, I would like to say I’m pro-life.  However, I know that there are some desperate women out there who feel hopeless and helpless, and some shady back-alley “doctors” who would still make these decisions possible, so being pro-choice still allows for these women to see a professional and have a “safe” procedure if this is what they feel that they must do.  So really, I don’t know how I feel.

Also, I am very well-aware that no matter who is elected, and whether I vote for that person or not, I will still not agree with everything that happens during that presidency.  Also, I might really appreciate and agree with some of the things that a person who I didn’t vote for might change while in office.  This is why I HATE when people tell me that then, since I didn’t vote, I don’t have the right to complain.  Truth is, I don’t really complain a whole lot anyway.  But if not voting means my right to have an opinion is gone, doesn’t that mean that if someone voted for the current president that he/she doesn’t have the right to complain about anything that happens under said president’s term?  If I can’t have an opinion because I didn’t vote, then by voting for someone who got elected, does that mean that this person cannot disagree with anything that president does?  Absolutely not.  That’s the beauty of where we live; no matter what, everybody is entitled to an opinion, and has the right to voice that opinion (or not voice it) however they so choose.

I also don’t care to vote this time around because I am far too aware of the way a lot of other people vote.  Sadly, from what I’ve observed, a lot of people out there vote based on things completely separate from their own political beliefs.  Some people vote for the candidate that is most like them racially.  Some vote for the better looking candidate.  Some vote for who appears to be cooler.  Some vote for who their parents tell them to vote for.  Some vote for Mickey Mouse.  In working as a group-home mom for quite a while, I saw the way young people are easily swayed by appearances.  For example, I had a kid in my home who was 17 when the last election occurred.  He said if he were to vote, he would have voted for Obama.  I asked him why, he said, “Because it would be cool to have a black guy as president.”  (Mind you, this kiddo was a chubby, redheaded ginger, so no racial loyalty here lol.)  I then asked him how he felt about abortion, he said he was against it, making him pro-life.  I also asked him how he felt about two men being able to get married.  He said, “No way!  That is f-ed up!”  I only laughed to myself because he clearly has beliefs directed one way (towards the right) , but was basing his decision of who to vote for by appearances, media, etc.

Finally, the fact that I live in arguably the greatest country on earth which has granted me the right to vote, I also have the right not to.  Without being harassed.  Without being made out to be someone who doesn’t care.  Without someone taking away my ability to have a voice.  It is not as if I lose my right to vote for life by sitting out for an election!  I will vote, when I feel like it is an issue that I truly want to do something about.  I will vote when I feel like it is the right thing to do.  I won’t judge you for voting, so don’t judge me for not!!  So this year on election day, please feel free to exercise your right to vote, while I exercise my right not to.

______

Stay committed to your decisions, but stay flexible in your approach.  –Tony Robbins

Blessed.

I’ll be honest.  Posting that post last week was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  But it has also been one of the most freeing things I’ve ever done.  And I cannot even explain to you how much your replies, comments, emails, and texts have meant to me in the days since I posted that.

Overall, I was responded to in some way over fifty times.  And I was very shocked to hear NO NEGATIVE, HATEFUL, or DISRESPECTFUL feedback.  Nothing but support, encouragement, kind words, and appreciation.  Six women/girls contacted me privately to tell me that they had gone through the same thing at some point and none of them had dealt with it or really spoke about it.  The conversations I had with them were amazing.  Being able to heal and let go of all the guilt, anger, fear, and shame of the abortion became reality after sharing that post.  I will never forget the daughter that I would have, perhaps should have, had.  But I can now understand that I’m forgiven.  And I want these other girls and women to feel free, too.  Not to hide behind a wall of shame or regret.
Some of my favorite things that were said to me after the post include a message from a former high school classmate of mine.  She was very empathetic and even said that she wishes she was there for me when it happened, as she saw me every day while I was going through this and because I was so secretive, she had no idea.  🙂  I also got some encouragement from my cousin, and it meant a lot.  She said a lot, but the end of her message was this, “I don’t know many people who own their shit like you do. In short – you rock.”

Lots of other general support and encouragement.  From people I never would have thought even cared!

In no way was that post to say that I was proud of what I did; it was the hardest and most traumatic thing I’ve gone through.  And I’m still going through.  Dealing with this is something that will probably take a lifetime, and I’m okay with that.  It is nice to know I can share about it, about how I feel, and receive love and care in return.  I’m sure I will have more to say about it as time goes on.  But I just need to thank you ALL for the way you received me last week.  It meant more than you know.

I do need to take a second, because its on my heart, to reach out.  If you or anybody you know has gone through this, whether them directly or a friend, sibling, child, etc., and you/need to talk to someone, please feel free to connect with me.  Sometimes just knowing someone has gone through it, is going through it, and is surviving and coping in a healthy way can be so helpful.  I know you’re hurting, you feel like there isn’t anybody who would understand or not judge you, and you think you’re alone, but I assure you YOU ARE NOT ALONE!  Please, leave me a comment, find me on facebook, whatever, and we can connect!!

On that note, that’s all I have for this lazy Monday!  I’ll leave you with some eye candy…a favorite picture of Little Mister from the week.  🙂

 

“The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only – and that is to support the ultimate career. ”
―C.S. Lewis

And the truth shall set me free…

Well folks, this is when it really gets real.  This is the place when I come to terms with what true honesty, self-acceptance, and self-forgiveness means, and I’m about to apply it something fierce.  I warn you, you might not like what I have to say, or that I’m saying it publicly, but that’s your choice.  This is something I have to do, for me.

No guilt.  No shame.  I am forgiven, and set free!  (this shall be my mantra!)

 

I’ll start by saying that I have had every intention of eventually covering this subject on this blog, but a series of events has pushed me to talk about it now, rather than later.  And that’s okay.  Take it for what you will.

Is there anything in your life that you just wished you could walk away from, and never think of or be reminded of it again?  Something that you maybe tried to ignore or even cover up in hopes that it would fade from your memory?  The funny thing about things like this, is they can consume our thoughts and alter the course of our lives altogether.

I think that most of us who have an event like this in our life have taken the time and heart and confided in at least someone apart from the situation about what happened.  Someone we think we can trust.  Someone who would never use that information against you or to betray you.  I trusted someone, and all of that backfired.

The someone who I shared this with I have become not close to anymore (by their choice).  They’ve decided to take it upon themselves to share some of my very personal business of the past with people who I love.  Friends and family who I have been very close to for about half of my life have recently gotten text messages and possibly contacted in other ways and been given information about something that happened almost ten years ago.

I’m not entirely sure what the goal of this person was.  I suppose to make people judge or dislike me; regardless they did it.  And I’ve been fortunate enough for some of those people to come to me and tell me what was said.  And we have talked about it, and things turned out okay.

So all of this has lead me here:  I’m just going to say here what they’ve decided to say without my permission.  Why, do you ask?  Why would I share what I’m about to share with anybody and everybody via the internet?

Lots of reasons, but mainly to prove to myself and anybody else, that I am not defined by things of the past.  That I have moved on.  And I’ve decided that if somebody is going to put my business out there, it ought to be me.

No guilt.  No shame.  I am forgiven, and set free!

 

So what is it?  What’s my skeleton in the closet?

 
Ten years ago, when I was 17 years old, I had an abortion.

 

 

There, I said it, its out there.  This decision, made when I was only a child, is one that did, in fact, alter the course of my life.  I can clearly look back and see all of the negative and hard things that developed as a result of this choice.  The emotional destruction is obvious.  Mr. Badass and I broke up soon after.  I made silly choices and married the wrong person because I was desperate to be loved despite my past.  My fertility issues.  Relationship struggles.  The hole in my heart left by my unborn daughter. The dreams I have about a blue eyed-brown haired little girl who would be nine years old if she were here today.  The constant wondering in my quietest, most personal thoughts, asking,”What would her favorite color be?  Would she be a good student?  Is she mischievous?”  Wanting nothing more than to hear the sound of her giggling little-girl laughter in my home…it hurts.  There’s not a day I don’t think of her, and what might have been.

Only recently have I come to terms, I mean REALLY come to terms with the magnitude of the effects this decision had on my life, and the life of those affected by the choice.  But in coming to terms with it, I’ve found peace, as well.  I look at the things that have happened since this event in my life and I can see some positive things.  In the time immediately following the abortion, I was overcome with guilt, shame, and grief, and in seeking out God and his forgiveness for my actions, I have been able to heal.  I have been able to share some beautiful relationships with women who have gone through the same thing, covered in understanding and absolutely free from judgment.  I have made relationships with my foster sons and the kids in the group homes who I never would have met if my life hadn’t taken the path it did.  It is a blessing to see that some good has come from the worst decision, hardest memory, and biggest regret of my life.
But what seals the deal on my healing/moving forward is this:

Little Mister.  Mr. Badass and I cannot imagine life without this little guy.  He is our joy.  And the truth of the matter is this:  If I had not had an abortion 10 years ago, this little piece of heaven probably wouldn’t be here with us today.  I think that is pretty special.

 

So, to anybody and everybody who might judge me for the choice I made, I’m sorry if I have hurt or offended you.  To anybody who has also found themselves in the same situation and made the choice I made (or maybe even made the other choice), I’m here for you, let’s talk, let’s heal.  And to the person I mentioned earlier, the one who decided you should share my story without my permission and try to use it against me, thank you.  (I know you read this blog, too.)  Thank you for PUSHING me to live a life without secrets and shame; thank you for reminding me that what other people think about me doesn’t matter and that I am more than my past mistakes.  And if and when you want to be hateful and judgmental and use this choice against me, look at the picture of that little boy.  And try to think of a world without his precious gummy smile, without those beautiful blue eyes.  I can’t even fathom that.

 

So, thank you. 

 

“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.” –Martin Luther King, Jr.

Foto Frenzy Friday: Meet Little Mister, Part 1

 

 

Meet Little Mister 

This is his birthday.  May 1, 2012.  I wasn’t allowed in to see him, so I apologize that the pics aren’t my usual quality.  I just sent my camera off to be used and forgot to show them how to work with the settings!!

 

I’ll start by making something clear.  I am not his biological mama.  His daddy, Mr. Badass, and I are former high school sweethearts who were recently reunited.  By the time we got together, I was going through a divorce, Mr. Badass was doing the single guy thing, and this little lovebug was well on his way to the world.  Despite the lack of a blood connection, I LOVE THIS CHILD.  Little Mister is so precious to me; I’d walk through fire or take a bullet for that little dude.  And never think twice about it.  The custody situation right now is joint, which is a pretty good deal if you ask me.  One week with her, one week with him.  It has been messy on and off, but who knows what tomorrow brings, so we will take one day at a time.

This is a collection of some of my favorites that were taken the first six or seven weeks of his life.  I have TONS more that I’ll be posting in Fridays to come!

This is his second day.  Once again, I just passed my camera off.  What a precious little face!!

again on his second day, with Grandma Badass.  🙂

First time Mr Badass experienced a real, big cry!  Don’t think he knew what to think!!

Little Mister’s third day…I was able to come in and snap a few pics! Mr. Badass is so proud!!

Kisses from Daddy.

Looking extra tiny with Daddy, Daddy’s best bud and his son.  Destined to be buds forever!

Six days old!  First pictures of the three of us together.

I know this picture isn’t flattering of me at all!  Little Mister farted a HUGE one and it was pretty hilarious! 

The next few are some of my favorites from a little mini photo shoot (impromptu!) we did.  Just in a room with regular light, the flash on my camera bouncing off the ceiling, and a door with a black curtain in front of it!  Not too shabby, if I do say so myself!

 

A few more from that day:

A shot with Grandma and Grandpa Badass

Eskimo Kisses

LOVE!

Over the next couple weeks I took less pictures because we just wanted to enjoy him.  But I did manage to snap a few!

4 Generations Picture with Great Grandma A, who just passed away last Thursday.

4 Generations of the Badass Family.  Great Grandma, Grandpa, Mr., and Little Mister!

And I’ll end with my favorite:

Which were your favorites?  Does everybody think this Little Mister is as adorable as I THINK he is???  Let me know what you think!

“A picture’s worth a thousand words…”

Getting Real…

I have been told before that one thing that makes me likeable is that I am a very “real” person.  Though I genuinely appreciate that statement, I find myself wondering, “What does being real, really mean?”  “Am I actually that real?”

I know the real me.   From the best parts which I am most proud of but also down to every last gritty, dirty detail.  And honestly, some days, I don’t really know that the real me is all that great of a person.

I’m pretty sure that the me that some, if not most, people find to be enjoyable is the outgoing me; the version of myself who is frank, young, energetic, and willing to go the extra mile t help others.  They like the part of me who goes out of my way to make them smile or laugh, usually at my own expense.  People also tend to like the me who is honest, up front, intelligent, and carefree.  This is the me that sparkles and shines; the performer, the class clown, the show stealer.

But is that all of me?

Absolutely not.  There are other parts of me, too.  Things about me that I don’t always like to show, okay, more like I never really want to show.  Pieces of secrets, unwhispererd words of regret, shame, fear, guilt.  The pages of my journal which are written and then torn out and ripped up, burned, buried.  The anxious little girl who would rather hide and avoid than to go out and put on a show for the world.  This is the me that is the hermit, the outcast, and the loner, lost in the colorless area where black and white kiss into a thousand shades of grey.

Lately, I’ve found myself in this second version of me quite often.  The second version of me is the real reason I’ve not posted anything new for several days; I guess I feel like keeping my thoughts to myself is safer than putting out there for the world to see.  But I’m being remindd of the solitude that comes from that…from cutting myself off from others.  How lonely it is to say nothing…and have nothing said in return.  The first me, quite possible the better me, would just put it all out there.  She would remind herself that even in times of lament and sorrow, one just might find comfort and even companionship from others.

I suppose I just am beginning to wonder what the heck my purpose is here; what am I doing?  Who am I helping?  What mark am I leaving while I’m here?  I want to know if I have even a smidge of significance.  But more than anything, I find myself stuck on one thing.

I don’t love myself.

There, I said it.  I don’t love myself.  What an awful thing to have to say.  But it’s true.  It’s not that I don’t want to, but I really just don’t right now.  It’s a combination of the Physical me, the Spiritual me, and the Emotional me.  So I’m going to have to work on this.

I WANT to love me.  Now I just need to figure out what its going to take to get there…This, my friends is an underlying purpose of this blog.  I’m committing to fix the broken parts of me; I’ll learn to love and accept what is permanently disfigured.  And here is where I hope to document the journey I’m about to set foot on.  You’re either with me or against me; my road to healing isn’t going to always be pretty, pleasant, or endearing.  If you can’t handle the truth, don’t read it.  But if you’re here, please feel free to offer words of encouragement, suggest books, and offer any other help and love you can.  Thank you, friends.  Here I go.

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”

– Buddha

Tattoosday…

…so because nothing is ever original…I know (especially after googling it…) that I am not the first to think of this idea.  But I was sitting here with Mr. Badass talking about my blog…and I said that I would be talking about tattoos today.  Then I said it.

“Tattoosday.  I could use it as an ongoing theme.”

I was so excited…but then realized its not an entirely brand new concept.  But oh well!  I love body art!  So here goes my first shot at Tattoosday!

Tat Stats:

Name:  Me!
Age:  27 today, thanks!
Age of first tattoo:  16
Number of tattoos currently: 10, I think…
Most painful tat: the birdcage on my ribcage/tummy!
Piercings? Ears, nose, tongue, snakebites

Todays tat:

Handprint on my right leg

( forgive the horrible angle it’s hard to take a picture of myself where this tattoo is located)

Who did it: Mr. Badass

When: February 2012

What does it mean? This is to just stand for my love for animals…the negative space paw print inside a human handprint to me shows that animals are a part of us. Anybody who knows me knows that I probably like my dogs more than most people. I also closer for this to be small…the human print is about the size of a 4-year-old’s hand. This is because I love kids too. I’ve spent years working on the suicidal service system from a foster parent to bring a group home Mom. I also mentor teenage parents…kids and animals are my life. This ink is one way I make that statement!

Do you have any tattoos you’d let me share about on Tattoosday?? Any good stories to go along with them or their meaning? Please comment below either way!!!

“My body is my journal, and my tattoos are be story.” –Johnny Depp