Thursday, March 16, 2017

Dear Tiffany,

When I first met you, I thought to myself, wow, this woman is STRONG.  I know you don't always feel like that right now, but in my time getting to know you better, my opinion really hasn't changed.  

Before you write this entire letter off as BS based on that statement, I want to explain to you that, in my eyes, there is NOTHING stronger than a person who is unafraid to reveal their vulnerabilities. Who is unafraid to ask for help when they need it.  Who is unafraid to leap when the situation presents itself.

I want you to know that I do feel as though I have failed you as a friend.  But in doing so, I acknowledge how I haven't failed ME.  Which is pretty huge.  I am the Queen of Martyrdom.  I would gladly chop off my right arm and give it to someone if I thought it could help them.  Once I tried to donate my kidney.  My children were so upset with me.  I couldn't for the life of me understand why they couldn't see how much more valuable that person's life was than any suffering it may cause me.  What I couldn't see was how my suffering hurts them.

You are an amazingly beautiful person.  Multifaceted and shining even in your dark moments.  I am overly familiar with the brand of pain you are experiencing.  Not the exact flavor, of course our own experiences are unique, but the same flavor profile.  

I believed we could work as a team.  But then I failed you.  As time closed in, I became afraid I would lose myself to your needs.  Because, honestly, they trump mine right now.  But my life isn't exactly in a stable place.  So I failed to communicate.  And worse, I failed to provide the level of friendship and support you needed.  But in doing so, I did manage to preserve the little bit of my own sanity I needed to get me through my current hardships.

There are good days, when I have strength enough for myself, my family, and 100 other families. Then there are bad days, when merely providing for my family has to be enough.  And then there are worse days, when I can barely provide for my family, and just getting myself through the day has to be enough.

My point is, I hope you aren't leaving because the vision you had of being here didn't materialize the way you thought it would, or as immediately.  Anywhere you go right now, it's going to be really hard.  It's going to be a lot of work.  You need to be able to trust in something, right?  I know.  It's scary feeling like you're all alone.  No matter where you go, this is going to be a crazy difficult time in your life.  So I hope the path you choose provides you the level of support and safety you need to flourish.  And I hope you know, I stand behind you and your choices 100%.  I believe you know in your heart where you need to be, how to get where you want to go.

I know you're a fighter too.  How else could you have gotten so far with the cards you've been dealt? Fight for what you want, what you know is right, like there is no other choice.  Because, when it comes down to it, there isn't.  Alternate realities, dream worlds, "easy" roads...but there's no other real choice for us single moms.  Live hard, play hard, fight hard.  Yeah, the falls can be real painful, but all we need is the win.  And the way Zara's face lights up when she sees you?  That's the win.  That light is what we fight for, day in and day out, because we know how it feels to have our light stolen. 

Anyway, I'm sorry for every time I allowed you to feel less than welcome, wanted or needed.  Every time you needed help and I was nowhere to be found.  You have been doing an amazing job and I should have been more supportive.  Alas, I have been playing the role of a human when you needed a superhero.  Luckily, you had the superhero in you to get through all this so far.  You're amazing.  I'm so glad I met you.

Wednesday, February 15, 2017


I wasn't afraid of darkness
Until I stopped sleeping
And the darkness
Started to feel

I wasn't afraid of darkness
Until I stopped shining
And the darkness
Started to feel

I wasn't afraid
Of darkness
I began to hide in it
And the darkness
Started to feel

Saturday, January 21, 2017


I march because I can no longer be silent.  Silence is a luxury afforded a Country with a government that works for ALL of its citizens.

I march because I have the power to do so.  For every woman who is held by fear, obligation, control, finances, disability or lack of understanding, I march for her.

I march because I love our Country and its founding principles.  If we fail to exercise our democratic rights, we stand to lose them.

I march to be an example to my children.  To show them the moral imperative to stand up for that what you believe.

I march because I believe in my womanhood and motherkind.  It's time to celebrate that.

I march to add my face to the anonymous masses.  To add my heart to the strength of the love movement.

I march because I am woman.  Hear me roar.

Friday, January 13, 2017

Dear Box,

Thank you.  I am grateful for how you've sheltered me all these years.  I needed your protection, I was fragile, I needed to heal.  I felt so safe inside of you.  Warm.  As I grew, you stayed the same. I found myself shrinking, to fit inside of you.  To stay safe.  Warm.

But safety became a delusion.  Because I had outgrown you.  So I lived in denial, kept shrinking to fit.  During my various growth spurts, I would stand-up, look around.  I started to venture out, from time to time.  Run,  Pain would come, I would retreat to you.  Shrink myself as best I could.  Hide.

The word I chose this year is "Open".  My first step, dear box, is to not just venture outside, but to leave you behind entirely.  I know there's another little girl, who needs your protection, during a vulnerable time.  Hopefully she will be insightful enough to leave you behind as soon as she outgrows you, instead of continuing to hang on, as I have.  Far, far too long.

And so, today, I write to tell you I'm leaving you.  I'm moving on.  I'm done shrinking to fit, denying myself the opportunity to stand in my pain and grow stronger in my own right.  The pain will come, and I will no longer retreat.  I will not seek shelter or safety.  I will experience the pain and grow stronger.  Perhaps I will need to reach out, but no longer will I run and hide.

I am Open.

I am Love.

I am Resilience.

I am Mee.