Everything Must Change.

If you've followed my journey, you may have noticed that I've been silent since my 40th birthday, which was 13 months ago. That's because life happened.

And happened. And f*****g HAPPENED. Exactly one year ago today, my wonderful therapist explained to me that loss, particularly the loss of a parent, changes you. I look at photos of myself prior to November 15, 2018 and I am definitely not the same person. I was comfortable and existing in a way that ensured that everyone around me was happy; and even if I wasn't completely happy with certain aspects of my life, I never felt alone or hopeless because I had my mom. And then she died five days before my 38th birthday. I was forced to learn who I was outside of being Barb's daughter, while juggling all of the feelings that accompany grief. I needed to still be present for my children and my mom's friends, who all struggled with her loss as much as I was. There was estrangement from relatives, which may have been for the best because it allowed me to dive into the healing process without outside noise. And their noise was both dysfunctional and noisy as hell.

During that time, I found my tribe, which included several people who had also endured the loss of their moms- they knew the feelings that were difficult to articulate and stayed close as I waded through birthday, anniversaries, and holidays, especially the dreaded second Sunday in May (that's a post for another day, but it's coming).

Once I turned 40, I became much more confident in who I fought to become- because I didn't believe that it would be possible. I was accomplishing things that I never imagined, and doing so gave me the courage to make hard, necessary choices that would ultimately allow me to become the best version of myself. So after much thought, second-guessing, crying, agonizing...and then much expectation, hope, and confirmation by way of vivid dreams, I took a deep breath and did two big things in 2021: I left my church of 10 years. And I left my marriage of 19 years. At one point, I took great pride in both- they were my identity and have provided emotional highs and lows; detaching from each also meant that I would be subjected to speculation, betrayal, estrangement, and slander. There would be mental and physical scars as a result. My choices would be brushed off as just me missing my mom. It would be called a phase and I was assured that I would get over it. Or...my choice to leave the church had impacted both my soul and common sense. Therefore, I left myself vulnerable to the attacks of the enemy, who had clearly taken over mind, because why else would I walk away from a 19-year marriage? I was prepared for the fallout, but there was also a sense of peace because I finally, finally chose me...and in choosing me, I discovered that certain things were connected to the version of myself that no longer exists. So many people benefited from that version, but I was empty; in fact, I contemplated ending my life several times...all while showing up every Sunday to sing nicely and smile pretty for family photos. I was dying inside, but no one noticed.

I often described it as screaming underwater while everyone else was hanging out poolside, enjoying the party. It would be naive of me to believe that a transition of this magnitude wouldn't have an effect on my children- in fact, I have written and rewritten this entry several times over the last three weeks with them in mind. It is also out of respect for them that I will not go into great detail regarding my decision, and certain aspects will remain private. Some of my children have been more resilient than others, and that's okay. It's not a race. We're still adjusting to the grief that accompanies unexpected change.

It's daily work, but I'm constantly reminding them that I cannot be the best parent to them if I am not happy and whole.

One of the things that people remember most about my mom is her ability to have and maintain joy, even in the face of adversity. It's so sad to think that while she HAD joy, I believe that my mom left this life without realizing that you have the right to adjust those things that no longer PROVIDE joy. 2021 has taught me that no matter how much time has been invested...or memories made...you have the right to change your mind and adjust when things are no longer serving the person that you are NOW. Your explanation doesn't have to be articulate- "This no longer works for me" is perfectly fine. Your response can be no. Period

Above all else, choosing you will be the greatest gift that you can give yourself and those around you. You may lose people...but you'll find yourself.

If you took the time to read my heart in the form of words, my hope is that you always choose you. Every time. No matter what. I've been blessed to have lots of material possessions...but the peace that I'm experiencing is better than a pair of Louboutins.

Well, maybe it's a close tie. You know me and shoes. Anyway, keep pressing. Keep trusting the process, and remember: sometimes the hard thing and the right thing are the same thing.