When It Rains It Pours: How to Manage the Eye of the Storm

Saturday morning I woke up to…a lot of rain, as I did more days than not in the last week.

If you live in the Nashville area, chances are you’re a little water-logged too.  

I’m all for a couple of cozy, rainy days.  In fact, those melancholic, if not romantic, parts of me love a good excuse to hole up, drink loads of coffee, and read and write to my heart's content.  

Aaaand after a non-stop week of it, I’m officially done.  No mas.  Vitamin D por favor.

My house has tons of big windows.  This past Saturday morning, I got lost just staring out at bucket after bucket of rain, dumping against a foggy, silver day.  It reminded me of the big 2010 flood.  

I remember so clearly how helpless I felt during that flood.  People were losing everything: their houses, cars, and sentimental belongings, while I just sat hearing about it all on the news.  

Do you ever feel so helpless amidst the flood of your own emotions?  Do the water levels of your own powerlessness feel so high, you just want to hide behind the covers and completely opt out?

I have felt this way more times than I can count.  The waves of depression and anxiety were so crushing, every exit door to safety I knew of in my head seemed entirely too far away.  My ability to cope was non-existent and I clung to the few safe people around me because I knew I didn’t have the where-with-all to weather the storm alone.  

Let’s face it; there are those times in life that the pain of circumstance is more than we can bear.  We can’t self-help or positive-self talk our way out of it.  The gravitational pull of that pain is the only thing that seems true.  

In light of this, I want to share with you three pillars of truth that have kept me afloat.  

1) Reach out

This may seem ridiculously simple, yet I’m convinced most of us don’t do simple very well.  We love to over-complicate things.  My tendency in the eye of an emotional storm is to isolate.  I don’t want anyone seeing me weak, ugly crying, or God forbid, without a plan.  So, I retreat.  

What I’ve wised up to throughout the years is that any act of courage REQUIRES vulnerability and this vulnerability takes bags of strength.  What used to seem weak about this now seems powerful and expansive.  To reach out when you’re all out of answers and the inner critic rages inside is one hell of an act of courage.  

Who are your people?  Have two or three people you trust and start this buoyant conversation with them now or when you’re not in crisis.  Let them know that you consider them as safe and want to be able to reach out when you’re in need and vice-versa.  Pre-empting this brand of connection and conversation is everything.  

2) Life’s work

Reb, a brilliant therapist friend of mine, likes to say, “Don’t feel ashamed if you keep stumbling over the same problems.  Consider yourself lucky!  You’ve found your life’s work.  Many people spend their life wandering around never quite sure what it is they should be doing.” 

What is the emotion that tends to feel the most overwhelming?  What is the lie that feels so heavy and relentless, you can’t seem to catch a break?  

Is it depression? Anxiety or worry?  Insecurity and self-doubt?  Good news, this is the life’s work you must show up to do on a daily basis.  What is it trying to tell you?  My depression would always say, “You simply don’t have what it takes.  You’ll never get there.”  

Now I like to say back, “Where? I’m right where I need to be.”  It’s taken me quite some time to build these muscles, and they still get sore from time to time, but I know this is part of my life’s work and the emotional fitness I must pursue.  

Listen to voices amidst the unruly storms.  They will be the roadmap for the internal healing journey that needs to take place. 

3) This too

Finally, know this: no emotion is final.  Just as storm clouds pass and the sun eventually makes her long-anticipated appearance, those feelings of hopelessness and powerless will too.  

When words aren’t enough, and it seems absolutely nothing brings relief, take heart.  It will inevitably pass.  Sometimes the only thing we can do is watch the storm unfold, observe its strength, and touch its darkness.  Don’t make up stories, or fake news about your emotions.  Tip your hat and let them pass.  I promise, they will.  

You’ve been brought too far to simply be left here.  Love is far too clever for that, my Dear… 

Love & Gratitude,
Katie
xoxo

Permission to Speak Freely

Dear Friend,

I hope this email finds you well.  With the hustle and bustle of the season, whatever shape this takes on in your world, all I could think about this week was gratitude for your presence here. 

I realize you may be traveling, or with family, or perhaps even taking on more work and commitments.  Schedules get thrown off and the faint whiff of structure and routine we may have acknowledged just got sucked right out the window.

I get it. I’m there too. So we’ll keep this one short.

Today I simply want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Thank you for accompanying me on this journey deeper into desire, connection, and thriving.  I started this blog a little over two years ago not knowing anything about what a blog was or who the flip would even care to read it.  I really just wanted to voice some deep longings, observations, vulnerabilities, and proof that hope and healing are absolutely always within reach.  

I’ve shared parts of my story that have felt scary and dark.  I’ve been afraid that perhaps you would judge me or see me as unqualified and/or inadequate both as a therapist and a writer.  For all you enneagram nerds out there, I’ve carried the curse of the “four” that whispers the ever so sexy lie, “If they saw you and knew you for who you really are, they wouldn’t love you.” 

As my British friend Lynsey would say every time, “Bollucks!”

The funny thing is, the more I heard that lie, the more I knew what I had to do—lay it all out there, flawed, broken, and wildly imperfect. 

If this year has taught us anything, it has surely been the importance of using our voice even though there is great risk involved and no guarantee of being well-received or even heard for that matter.  

When we speak our truth, it sets a domino effect of courage in motion.

For me and so many, this is very much a journey of first finding our voice—finding our truth.

My prayer and desire is that our weekly conversations will serve as a safe space and subtle nudge for you to keep searching for and using that beautifully powerful voice of yours.  

You may think this is pointless or impossible.  I get it.  You’re busy, you’re taking care of other people, you’re covered up with responsibility, or maybe you’re simply too weary and broken to try.  

Keep searching.

You may fall prey to the lie you have nothing good to say and your story, your voice, doesn’t matter.

Keep speaking.

Along the way, someone may have even told you to stay small and keep very, very quiet.  

Louder. It’s in there, and it’s big.

Okay, so you’ve searched, found, and shared that wobbly, crackling first few words only to fall flat without a nod or reassuring smile to catch them on the other side.  No one cared.

Get back on the horse.  

Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly.  Anything worth saying bears repeating.  

You belong to you and your voice matters.  

You matter. 

Why?  Because you are here.  It is your birthright to have needs and desires and to voice those valuable messages to the world.  You’re worthy and you belong, just as you are.

The thing is, truth is born out of silence, stillness.  We must slow down enough to hear the soft, rolling nuances of our soul’s longing.  If this feels indulgent, then my gift to you this holiday season is a big fat permission slip to find the time you need to lean into that stillness and listen to the voice of desire longing to speak freely.  

What does she sound like?  What are her words?  What does she need?  

Oh I know she’s in there.  And she is lovely, indeed.

Thank you again.  We’ve journeyed through yet another amazing year and I’m so grateful you are here. Hold on tight for the next leg of the journey. It’s gonna be good.

Until then, have a peace & meaning-filled Holiday!

Love & Gratitude,

Katie

xoxo

Fall, Body Image, & the Gift of Procrastination (Yep, you heard me.)

Do you feel the swing of fall kick up all the busy energy like I do?  

It happens every October.  The kids are back in school, schedules lock in step, and a cozy waft of pumpkin spice beckons our senses around every corner.  

Fall is my favorite.  I’m not sure if it’s because I was deprived of clear-cut seasons growing up in Mobile Alabama’s constant humid sweat or if it is simply the fact that I’m a sucker for jackets, boots, scarves, and those glorious warm colors.  It’s both–perhaps.  The moral of the story here is: there is a crisp, tangible shift that dials in and carries me through to the year’s end.  

Festivity is the oversized centerpiece of fall’s table.  The striking hallmark in that centerpiece—busyness.  Work schedules often really wake up as do social gatherings and travel, leaving self-care and connection optional at best. For me at least, the treadmill starts to speed up, and I let go of all the rituals and reasons I’ve come to rely on for a sense of sanity and serenity throughout the year. 

Last Wednesday, I had the distinct honor of joining my friend, Mary Hyatt, on her Facebook Live show.  Mary’s an incredible personal coach, entrepreneur, and Essential Oil guru who shares a passion for empowering others to live their fullest and most authentic lives.  We had the best time talking about perfectionism, especially as it relates to body image.  

Now you may be thinking, “What the heck do perfectionism, body image, and Fall have to do with anything?”, and that would be fair.  Hang in though.

After the show, I left her studio still marinating in our conversation.  I was curious why perfectionism is this rampant, especially for so many women, and how we grow to get so attached to its limiting and fearful message.  

Perfectionism is such a manipulative lie and one that actually stunts any lasting success, acceptance, creativity, and joy.  It always backfires.

As a recovering perfectionist, I’m all too familiar with its soul-sucking grip.  At the bleeding heart of it is the bondage of comparison with others, and/or some unrealistic version of who we should be that doesn’t actually even exist.  

We can’t throw the baby out with the bathwater though.  After all,  the seed of perfectionism’s pursuit is a massive desire for acceptance and belonging, two things we actually block when we become captives to the prison of its stark and lonely cell.  

Your Desire is everything!  It indicates a longing for something more and leads you into the path of your truth.  However, the straight jacket of control, typically fueled by fear, stunts the hope of desire.  

Perfectionism won’t allow for vulnerability and acceptance, and belonging requires loads of that V stuff.  It’s a tricky conundrum, indeed.

In my experience, when I’ve fallen so hard into the lull of perfectionistic sleep, it’s a subtle process, one that definitely doesn’t feel intentional.  This typically happens in seasons of disconnection with self—busyness.  

So procrastination is a thing.  You get it.  Chances are, you’re really good at it too.  My hope for you and I in this yummy fall season is that we would practice awareness as to exactly what we are procrastinating.  What are you putting off in order to facilitate the ramped up energy of fall?  

Is it sleep, exercise, meditation, journaling, or simply downtime?  Where will these deficits show up?  Typically, they show up at some point in relationships with self and others.  Another resulting deficit is our peace.  I love the quote that says, “If it costs me my peace, it’s too expensive.”  

With the alluring temptress of perfectionism lurking not so subtly on social media, presenting universes of shiny, packaged worlds, my challenge to you today is this:  

Rebel. Procrastinate perfectionism— Just for today.  

Perhaps tomorrow you can pick it up, maybe.  Instead, slow down and lean heavily on the courage of self-compassion.  Look at yourself,—your life, in the mirror and speak to that longing, loving soul as you would your best friend.  No one ever accomplished great things by hating themselves into submission.  

Life does get busy, and stress often feels like our annoyingly perky roommate.  Just remember, your “me,” that little person who looks a whole lot like you, is patient and up for the adventure.  Don’t leave her behind or worse, trade her in, for an illusory version.  The most beautiful life happens when we embrace ourselves as perfectly imperfect, quirky, messy, and all.  

Freefall into the unique loveliness of you.  Perfectionism is playing far too small.  

Love & Gratitude,

Katie

xoxo

Adele: Lessons from the Other Side

Before we get going, I thought it only fair to circle back around to my last post and cut all that paralyzing suspense regarding my test last Tuesday. Drumroll, please…. I passed!!!!! EEP! This is good news for us both I can assure you as I’ll move on, quit my moaning, and focus on far more interesting things for us to talk about here.  I didn’t realize how heavy a burden the whole process has been throughout the last 18 months.  The stress of it bled over into other cracks of life, sucking away energy, ease, and time I’d forgotten I had.  So, after taking a week off the blog for some much-needed self-care and rest, I feel massive relief and anticipation for more creative space to play around with other projects I’m ready to push forward.

Persevere

Despite feeling the gravity of this seeming detour, I learned an invaluable lesson through it all: Perseverance develops emotional muscles that will serve us well in every area of life, even when the task at hand seems unrelated and dispassionate to our calling. This post isn’t about perseverance in that respect though, it’s about Adele…so let’s get to it.

Date

I had the distinct pleasure of tagging along with my husband to the Grammy’s this past Sunday night in LA.  Despite his infinite cool,  he humors me as I show up each year with an arsenal of crazy shoes, dresses, and fake eye lashes like I’m nominated for an award or something.  I’ve never taken home one of those awards, however, I always leave the week with loads of shiny inspiration, new ideas, and an awakened dreamer inside.

YouTube

This year was no exception.  In fact, I was so moved by the raw combination of Adele’s truth-telling and talent, I felt the need to write what I saw, in hopes of somehow branding it into my being.  If you didn’t see her performance or acceptance speech(es), YouTube those babies.  They’ll warm your heart. Oh, and, forgive the spoiler for which you are about to receive.

Outlier

She’s always been an outlier in my mind: a seamless talent, a young-old-soul, and a powerful message well-balanced with a shock of mess.  She’s swooped in twice now for most pop music consumers, both times offering us heavy hitting albums five years apart quite simply titled “21” and “25.”   As that thick cockney accent cuts through the trough of tears shed, she cleans house, claiming most if not every Grammy she’s slated for.  I’d say those are pretty good odds.

Chocolate

On the flight home late Tuesday night between the spotty Southwest wi-fi and my fistful of Valentine’schocolate, I couldn’t get her out of my head, so I jotted down a few lessons she’s taught me over the years, especially this past Sunday night.

1.) Be You

Seems obvious, right?  I don’t think so.  Maybe it’s LA, or the entertainment industry, or my own ego that I can feel expand in order to compensate in a room full of über talented people.  Whatever it is, Adele seems to be immune to the insidious pressure to conform.  I’m sure she’s got her demons just like the best of them, however, she knows who she is and what she does well, and she does it– like a Boss. With steady opinions from all sides to be this and that, to look a certain way, and perhaps to diversify, she’s unapologetically steady in who she is.  It’s a breath of fresh air in an industry full of people hustling hard to show up in just the right light.  She just “is” and it’s simply stunning—magnetic.

Version

Do you ever feel like you’re hustling to live up to some unrealistic version of you?  I do.  Next time it happens, take a step back and remember this:  you’re in a league of your own—no one else in the world will do when it comes to being you.  Own it.  When I listen to Adele sing, I don’t want to hear Katy Perry, I want Adele!  (Though I do love me some KP).  Good news: there’s more than enough room at the table for the unique gifts we each bring and a scarcity mindset is totally unnecessary.

2.) Don’t Be Afraid to Start Over

I remember playing a gig in the mecca of downtown Franklin a couple of years back.  I hadn’t been practicing much and I didn’t really know one of the songs I was meant to play. Being the queen of wing it, I confidently, (read: blindly), walked right into a train wreck, having to start that song over halfway through.  It was awful.  I felt so much shame and embarrassment and desperately wantedto go hide under a rock for the next couple of months.  Umm, there were probably 25 people there, tops.  Really?

Hero

When Adele stopped her George Michael tribute on music’s biggest night in order to start the song over, I wanted to do back flips all the way up to the stage and hug her ever deserving neck.  It’s the same shame, yet on vastly different platforms.  She risked being rejected in order to do what she knew she needed to do.  Courage does not exclude fear, it embraces it and keeps going.  Heroes personify courage and we live in a culture desperately searching for heroes.  I believe this is a big reason Adele stole our hearts in the first place.

Pride

We must not let pride keep us from slowing down, re-assessing, and starting over when we need to be it in a creative endeavor, an unhealthy relationship,  or a work project we’ve been unsuccessfully pushing uphill.   If Adele can mess up and start over for all the world to see, I’m pretty sure you and I can in our own way as well.

3.) Lead with your Heart

As if it were even possible to love her more than I already did, she then managed to pull out that unforgettable and disarming final acceptance speech for Album of the Year.

It was a tough call.  She was up against Beyoncé’s fiercely creative “Lemonade”, and she literally didn’t want to accept it as she felt her competition had been robbed.  We didn’t get a tidy, calculated, speech thanking all the big wigs in the room.  Instead, we got an off-the-cuff love letter to her hero, complete with blubbering tears and that quintessential F-bomb we’ve become endearingly familiar with.  She could’ve used those valuable minutes to further her cause, or better yet, get political.  Instead, she led with her heart, honoring the influential genius of Beyoncé, who’s work and life highly impacted every facet of her experience, including the admittedly broken one of motherhood.

Ego

Constantly choosing to tap into love instead of fear helps us detach from ego and get out of our own way. Ego is always divisive.  It puffs up, separating us from our true self because we’re afraid our true self isn’t enough.  Vulnerably, Adele continues to model that, and a starving world devours every last crumb.

Model

Vulnerability is a scary thing, after all, as we inevitably risk rejection and abandonment.  What I’m seeing though, is it’s the only way to truly be known and loved.  This week, let’s follow Adele’s lead and see what happens.  You never know, we may give another caged soul the freedom to show up— messy, imperfect, and un-rehearsed.  I want to be apart of that revolution.

love & gratitude,

katie

xoxo

Triumph Over Misery: The Beautiful Story of Ruthie Lindsey

Author Jamais Cascio once said, “Resilience is all about being able to overcome the unexpected. Sustainability is about survival.  The goal of resilience is to thrive.  I never thought I would need to know this lesson until my life was turned upside down.

-Ruthie Lindsey

Meet Ruthie Lindsey

Today’s post is very near and dear to my heart for several reasons.  Our guest blogger is Ruthie Lindsey (visit her website), a designer, speaker, stylist, and overall inspirer.  She travels all over sharing her incredible story that invites us to a high and spacious place of living beautifully in the midst of painful realities.

  I have known Ruthie now for about fifteen years and have observed from a distance her journey in and out of joy-filled vibrancy and physical/emotional pain, concurrently.  Whereas we will go months without seeing each other, every time we do, I’m reminded of something so lovely and moving.  I am reminded that there is always hope, even in our darkest nights.  She simply exudes life, style, and fun.  If you have met Ruthie Lindsey or follow her on social media, you know exactly what I am talking about.  She takes her pain and brokenness and fear; she holds it up to the light, vulnerably-courageously,  and gives it a name outside of hers.  Unmistakably, she touches the hurting hearts of countless others.    It’s beauty from ashes and that kind of beauty is simply incomparable; without need of filters.

Close to Home

My older sister and best friend, Kristen has dealt with chronic pain due to endometriosis and resulting surgical nerve damage for nearly two decades.  It breaks my heart to watch her in pain; to know she is suffering and no one can take it away from her, definitely not me.  This type of pain is systemic: when she hurts, her community and family suffer as well because we love her and desperately long to see healing.  This overcoming story not only gives me hope in facing my own nasty demons, but also for my remarkably courageous sister who has yet to see the light at the end of her tunnel.

Ruthie Lindsey’s story is not just about chronic pain, it’s about the suffering we all face in our human frailty.  It is about standing smack dab in the middle of our story, pain, loneliness, heartache and all, and writing a new ending that offers life and hope to others.  In return, our cups get filled no matter what circumstances dictate.  Hope is a hurricane of a force.  When we give it away from a place of desperate need, we cultivate sunshine in the center of our storm.  I sincerely hope you read every word of her story.  Your life will be richer for it.

The Accident

When I was a senior in high school, I pulled out in front of an ambulance that hit me after crushing my car door going 65.  I broke three ribs, punctured my lungs, my spleen ruptured and I broke the top two vertebrae in my neck.  I was told I had a 5 percent chance to live and a 1 percent chance to ever walk again.  After I was stable and off life support, they took bone from my hip and fused it into my neck by wrapping it with metal wire.  I was so fortunate to have youth and good health on my side.  After a month, I walked out of the hospital with only a neck brace.  I was able to graduate on time and I honestly went back to my “happy go lucky” life as normal.  I would occasionally get sore if I danced too much (which is often), but otherwise I was able to forget it even happened.  I felt very removed from my story.  When I spoke about it, it was almost as if I was talking about it in third person, like it happened to someone else.

A Rude Awakening

A year after graduating college, I met my very first boyfriend and we were married within 10 months!  A year into our marriage, I was walking out of a Starbucks one day, when a searing pain shot through my neck and into my head.  I fell to my knees and nearly blacked out.  The pain continued with more and more frequency, and would leave me with horrific migraines.  It was so debilitating that I couldn’t function.  I saw tons of doctors, and each time they would order a scan and an elusive black spot appeared on the film.  They simply informed me it was the magnet in the machine interacting with the wired from my spinal cord fusion.  I tried countless (unsuccessful) therapies, then was prescribed heavy narcotics for my pain.  As a result of the pain, and the medication, I began spending more and more time in my bed.  I isolated myself and withdrew from my community and my marriage.  I though of myself as a burden.  This continued for over four years, exhausting money we barely had.

After these four years of mental and emotional exhaustion, I saw a new doctor who insisted on seeing what was under that little black spot on all my films.  A $50 X-ray showed that one of the wires had broken and pierced my brain stem.  What I learned is that I am apparently the only person in the world who has ever had this.  Specialists explained the risk of paralysis involved in attempting to remove the wire, but explained that if we didn’t try, I would eventually become paralyzed anyway.  I was one wrong turn of the head away from never walking again.  Insurance wasn’t going to cover my surgery, claiming my accident as a pre-existing condition.  Two weeks later my dad informed my mother that he was going to sell our farm to afford the procedure.

Loving Well

The night before he came to see me and tell me what he was planning to do with the farm, my dad had a freak accident.  After falling down a flight of stairs he passed away shortly thereafter from brain damage.  My dad’s sudden passing was a massive loss to my family, our community and me.  I remember lying in my bed night after night pinching myself until I bled because nothing felt real.  I felt I must be in a nightmare.  We were all absolutely devastated and heartbroken, but out of that loss something really beautiful happened.  My godfather set up a medical fun for me in my dad’s honor and money and letters started pouring in.  We would get letters that said, “Your dad sent me on my senior trip” or “your dad bought my prom dress” and your dad paid my tuition” or “your dad fixed my roof,” and on and on.  When my brothers and I were kids, whenever we left my dad’s presence, he would always say, “I love you so much, remember your manners, and always look out for the little guy.”  He wanted us to see and love the people who everyone else missed, and that’s what he did.  because he had loved people so well, this crazy amount of money was raised so that I could have this surgery.

Spiral

The doctors were able to remove the wire from my brain stem by taking bone from my other hip and fusing my neck back together with titanium screws.  Although able to walk afterward, I ended up getting major nerve damage in the surgery, and now my right side feels like it’s on fire at all times.  While recovering, I ended up contracting a bacterial infection called C. diff while in the hospital for another minor surgery.  I was so sick.  I stopped sleeping.  I had constant panic attacks and ultimately I had a full-blown nervous breakdown.  My husband was away on tour in Australia, and I had the feeling my marriage was coming to an end, which sent my downward spiral into a tailspin.  I became incapable of taking care of myself, so I moved home to live with my family in Louisiana.

Wakeup Call

My breakdown made me want to change everything.  I realized that I had identified myself with my pain for so long, so that is exactly how everyone else saw me.  Every conversation and interaction revolved around my condition.  When I would see people, they would ask, “How’s your back?” or “Are you hanging in there?” In some subconscious, gross way I found comfort in that, because it helped to justify having resigned myself to never-ending bed rest.

We teach people how to see us.  I don’t know what it was, but something changed, and I decided I was tired of people always feeling sorry for me.  If we lead from a place of brokenness, insecurity or bitterness, that is exactly who they will think we are.  But, if we lead from a place of love and wholeness, with compassion and strength, they are able to see us for who we really are.  I started to speak out loud the beautiful things I saw in people, places and experiences I was having.  I was looking for it an I was speaking it, and what’s so amazing is that as I was looking for beauty all around me I was reconnecting with my community.  The more I made myself get out of my bed and connect and love people, the less I was noticing how much I was hurting.  The very nature of pain is selfish and pulls our focus inward.  When I focused my energy outward, when I was doing things that were life-giving, things that I loved, I wasn’t thinking about my pain.

Energy Shift

The best decision I made was to wean myself off of all the pain meds I had been on for so long.  It took four months to wean myself off of the meds completely.  My marriage couldn’t survive under the circumstances, and I found myself single for the first time in a decade, and as a result of my time in self-exile, the bills were piling up.  I decided to focus my energy on doing little projects around the house to help me reclaim the space as my own.  I didn’t think much of it at first, but friends began assuring me that I had a knack for design.

The Rest of the Story

In short time, friends asked me to collaborate on projects.  I started an Instagram account and began posting the things that I was doing.  People started asking me to help them throw dinner parties, arrange flowers, set tables and decorate spaces.  I learned to say yes.  Around this time I had also started having people who didn’t know me following me on Instagram.  I started getting comments like, “You live my dream life!” And “I want your life!”  And to be honest, it made me feel nauseous.  I remembered lying in my bed for years, looking on Facebook and feeling so depressed, wishing that was me playing with my children and having all of these adventures, instead of lying in my bed hurting all the time.  I needed to give people a context for my joy.  I ended up writing out my entire story and sharing it online.  I remember feeling so vulnerable and exposed when I hit publish, but I knew I needed to give everyone the full scope of what was going on.  The truth was, my circumstances had not changed.  I was still in pain every minute, I was handling a divorce and I missed my dad every day, but I had learned to live differently.

We so often think, “I will be happy once I get, fill in the blank (that boyfriend, a certain job, a husband, baby, that house, etc.).”  But those things won’t fulfill us, until we ourselves are fulfilled.  I learned to find contentment despite my hardship.  And unexpectedly, I discovered that exposing myself made me feel less vulnerable.

Living to Thrive

Suffering is one of the things that unifies humanity.  At some point or another we all experience loss.  Sometimes, feeling hopelessness can give us a new lens through which to see the world because we learn to be more empathetic to those around us.  Now when I interact with someone suffering from heartache, loss or unendurable physical pain, I immediately have common ground to stand on with him or her.  I would never wish what Iv’e experienced on anyone, and I know that there are plenty of people with even more harrowing personal stories, but if telling my story of overcoming anguish helps just one person feel like she or he is not alone in despair, then at least what I went through had a purpose.  It took a long time, but I finally found myself.  It’s not the version of a life that I fantasized about as a child, but it’s better, because it’s a life that I earned in triumphing over my misery.  I’m proud to say I learned resilience from the unexpected, and now my mission in life is to thrive.