never again.

i go through phases, stages of healing, where, the hurtful things of the past feel so far away that the memories are more from a person i used to know, than me, to times when it feels as though it was yesterday.

and then, i remind myself that these things will never again happen to me.  i won’t allow them.

i have a soft heart.  it’s good for me, but can be affected greatly by those who don’t have regard for others, for animals, for peace, for love, and on and on.

never again will someone make me feel worthless.

never again will someone call me names.

never again will i be made to feel guilty for being me.

never again will i be threatened by the one who promised to love me.

never again will i hurt the way i have been hurt.

never again will i wish myself forever gone than alive in the life i have.

never again.  i won’t allow it.

be kind

i promise that i am working on posting more, where those days go, sometimes, i have no good answer other than, the moments went somewhere, and hopefully they gave me some smiles, peace and love.

just a short post in-between a longer one.  but something to leave with you today.

be kind.  to yourself, to others.  for me, at the end of the day, as i close my eyes, i want to feel at peace with myself and with all those dear to me in my life.

it’s the golden rule that many have forgotten.  “do unto others as you would have them do to you”

smile at the person walking down the street.  hold the door.  say excuse me.  say thank you.  be forgiving.

we share this place called earth.  our feet touch the places millions others have stepped.  it hurts me to my core to see the pain that people cause to one another. take a moment, step back, think, breathe.

at the end of the day, is the action you’re about to do, the word(s) you’re about to say, going to bring peace to your life?

be kind.  i promise it’s a peacefulness to your soul.

free to move about

the seat belt light goes out and the captain’s voice comes through the speakers, “you may now move about the cabin”.  click. click. click. as the passengers unlatch themselves.

in our lives, no one should have such control over us that we feel as though we need their “ok” to move about.  there is respect and then, there is control.  in my past and to this day, i am the same way.  before i make plans, i ask my husband if we/he have anything going on and that i was thinking of doing xyz.  the outcomes of these moments are vastly contrasted between the two.

in the past.  it was more asking permission, one that, typically, was denied.  or, if not completely denied, the guilt tactic was used.  or the selfish tactic, how could i be so selfish to not want to spend time with him, why would i want to do that?  the seat belt light never went off.

now. i am encouraged to be me.  i am encouraged to do things, to go places.  it is not asking permission.  it’s what it is and always has been, respect for my husband.  i am okay with that.  he does the same for me.  we are equals, there is no permission slip that needs to be signed.  we encourage each other to be individuals.  connected at heart.

it took me some time to get used to this new-found freedom.  i never knew what it felt like to be me and married.  i was told i was selfish if i ever put myself first. now, i am told i am selfless and encouraged to be myself.

i tell people how i have the exact opposite of what i had before.  the antithesis.

you should not fear being yourself.  you should not feel as though you need permission to move about.

you are free to move about.


cuts heal, scars remain

it has been nearly two years since i found the strength to leave.  my heart and soul have settled in to their new life of happiness, kindness, caring and peace.  the cuts have healed, the scars remain.

scars tell a story. 

i have a scar on my big toe, it’s story is one of summertime camping, a boy at the campground, me being tough and riding my bike without a care, focused on keeping up with the boys, wiping out, not wanting to cry, because i thought i was supposed to be super tough.  i have scars from surgeries, a dog bite, burns, each one carries its own story. 

i also have scars that no one can see, just like my visible scars, these carry their own stories as well.  a word, a voice, a threat. 

i’d rather have my scars than the cuts.  they’ve healed.  i’ve healed, but i’ll never forget the moments behind them. 

it’s been nearly two years since i started the healing process.  everything begins with a moment, and that was mine.  i found my soothing salve, i found kindness and love.

those scars remind me of how a person should never be treated, and a way that i will never again feel.


words hold such deep meaning for me.  they can create images, convey thoughts, emotions.

writing is healing for me.  coming upon words, written by others, that move me runs deep within.

from time to time, i’ll share these.

this shall be the first of many.


to laugh often and much;

to win respect of intelligent people

and the affection of children.

to earn the appreciation of honest critics

and endure the betrayal of false friends;

to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others;

to leave the world a bit better,

whether by a healthy child,

a garden patch

or a redeemed social condition;

to know even one life has breathed easier

because you have lived.

this is to have succeeded.

– ralph waldo emerson

full when empty

things.  the world, our worlds, are full of, things.  things, we think, that if we didn’t have, we couldn’t live without.  memories contained within, values that cannot be placed.

what happens when you find yourself in a moment, where, things, must be chosen and left behind.

as i reflect back now, i feel freer without those things.  but in that moment, i had no idea how i would feel now.

31 years, 2 suitcases.  the years of my life, the span of time i had been acquiring things.  the limit to what i could take on the day i left the only life i had known, behind.

there were things that i left, that in my heart, i knew, i would never see again.  and i will be honest, the pain of loss was there.  they were important to me, they did carry memories and they did have values that could not be assigned.

i packed, what i could, that i thought, fit, need above want.  some clothes, the pearls my grandmother had given to me, my camera (which, at times, fills the role of therapist) and my freedom.

there were pictures, memories, more things than i can list, that i thought, were so very important to me.  and, even in the days and months after i left, those things were missed.  there was talk of how to get my things.  could they be shipped, could someone go and get them for me.

days, weeks, months, years.

i have never seen any of those things i left behind.  there are things that i must not think about, because, to this day, bring sorrow.

i have learned that, along with not having those things, i do not have the memory of where they came from.  a life left behind.

the absence of those items created an emptiness, but not in a sad way that the word is so often associated.  it created a place, a space, that was ready to be filled with new memories.  happiness, love, laughter.

i’m thankful, that, as i look around my life, around my home, everything carries these new memories.  i have found a peace in that.

i realized that things are just things.  that they do hold meaning and they are important.  but, when faced with a choice between things and freedom, i would never change what i chose on that day.

my hands may have been empty, but my heart was full of hope.