Epilogue…

A Different Kind Of Tear.

So much has changed.

It’s been 94 days since I thought the world ended. 94.

And tonight is my last night in Arizona for this week, and I found myself crying.

A different kind of tear.

There have been so many moments in the past three months where I was convinced I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t go on a vacation, I couldn’t buy a house, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t get over him, I couldn’t or wouldn’t let myself love another human like that again.

94 days…

And so much has changed. I can go on. I did go on vacation. I am buying a house. I am moving. I am getting over him, and I will love another human like that again.

I went to the Capone Compound Monday of this week when I arrived to Phoenix. I was so happy to know my framing inspection was complete and passed. Sheetrock was on-site at my house on West Verlea Drive. Little changes that mean such big things.

Tuesday was full of sales calls, Wednesday a trip to Tucson, sales calls, and a client dinner. A drive home that included some crazy drivers, and cars on fire. Luckily, there was no flying scaffolding. Thursday I got to join one of my fellow Trane peeps on a meeting with one of his dealers, working through things that need worked through, resetting expectations and being on the same page. I got my first sale this week too!

Today.

Class at the Arizona Multihousing Association. My Lyceum Leadership Class. Today was all about personality styles, how our genetics and experiences influences the people we are. There are no surprises with me. I understand why I am how I am; and I love hearing all about my companions in class and learning where we are similar, where we are different and why that makes our industry such a great place to be. Media training. How to interview and respond. Such a great time…

And back to the house.

The sheetrock is hung. My house looks like a house. I can see the size and shape of the rooms, I can place furniture and see wall graphics. I can see where the Christmas tree will sit and if I try super hard… I can see where the swimming pool will go! (It’s on the five year plan) I can see where my touches and finishes will go.

Today I cried.

And these tears, much like some tears from last week, were a different kind.

Cathartic.

I can and will be okay. I can and will make it through that hard thing, and the hard things that are still to come. Tears that are hopeful because love is not lost on me, it is a feeling I will share again, a little wiser, but just as freely as I have ever given before. Tears that know I am smarter today than I was yesterday and still to be smarter tomorrow. Tears that will never give up on the good in people.

Always.

Tears that choose to hope for the best for the people I surround myself with, and those who have taught me the hard hard lessons I’ve needed to learn. Today, I’d still like to believe maybe there’s more to it and maybe not. Today I still believe I wish well for those, even those who by all counts don’t deserve it and it’s because it’s who I am. I don’t know how to do it differently and I don’t want to do it differently.

Today I take pleasure in a different kind of tear.

But smiles and tears are so alike with me, they are neither of them confined to any particular feelings: I often cry when I am happy, and smile when I am sad.— Anne Bronte

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A Week In Paradise…

When it’s time to say goodbye.

I’m sitting in Naupaka Terrace… the restaurant in the hotel, and it’s only the second time on this holiday that I’ve had ”formal” breakfasts.

What a week…

It was just about a week ago, tomorrow, really, I was on the phone with Amy, having the full on meltdown that I absolutely could not and did not want to take this trip. The circumstances of what I thought would happen versus real life were far too different and painful to take on. Alone.

Amy, as any amazing friend would, dropped her life. Like dropped it. All if of it. To meet me for breakfast and again give me the space I needed to continue to grieve what the last nearly three months have dished out to me. I cried, and was sad, and she sat there with me right in the middle of the ugly, all of it.

Tuesday. I met Sheritta at the airport, to commence with this trip, because Big Girl Things include facing what you thought you’d never have to. And let me tell you about Sheritta… she’s a wingman. We started with breakfast at Elways, and boarded the plane, to Lihu’e Hawaii on the island of Kauai. It was a crazy long flight, but the attendants were amazing, and looking back, 7 hours in an airplane wasn’t nearly as crazy as say trying to make this trip when you did so by months at sea with scurvy being a thing…

I had a beautiful date with Starbucks, the sun, the beach, and the hermit crabs every morning for the last five mornings. I’ve spent that time really in ALL of the places. In my heart. In my head. I’d be a liar if I didn’t say there have been some very hard moments in this. I know I’ll still have more. They sneak up on me… totally boogey man style.They did again this morning. They are fewer and farther between and that’s a win. And after the boogey man goes, what I am left with is me.

And I’ve been spending time getting to know this woman.

And I like her.

She’s a little bit crazy… she’s beautiful, with or without makeup, with or without filters, and with or without having combed her hair in three days. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and sometimes wonders if what’s coming from her lips or finger tips has any business out in the real world to be seen or heard. And she’ll do it anyway. Because she’d rather wear her heart on her sleeve for the good, bad, and ugly rather than face a lifetime of careful compartmentalization or God forbid inauthenticity.

She’s brave. For feeling the feelings. All. Of. The. Feelings. For her honesty. For her integrity. For her ability to be shaken to the core and hurt more than imaginable and still realize there’s a person for her. All she need do is believe in this, look for him… and understand more fully what she needs in a partner and being a great partner in return. To build the wall that’s tall enough to provide some protection, but not so tall as to not let him in if he’s willing to make the short climb to get there.

She’s brave because she’s learning to navigate her sometimes too loud to bear loneliness. Man that’s been a thing this week. Usually in the morning on those lovely dates with the sun, the sand, and the crabs….She went on an exploratory mission for rum tasting and found that she’d be just fine being there without a partner or even wingman, because this woman, the one right here, finds friends wherever she is… it’s God’s gift to her, the ability to connect, seamlessly. She need no longer worry about what other people think. She may sometimes still, because it’s a hard thing to unravel.

She’s brave… because she can eat breakfast by herself and not feel like she’s the only lepar in the room. And that, my sweet friends, sometimes takes a bit. She’s brave because she’s trying things she’s never done. Dancing on the beach, who cares who’s watching? Walking, and then walking just a little bit more, because you never know where you’ll find the next beautiful thing. Puka Dogs… not her favorite, but none-the-less, worth a try. Helicopter rides into the canyons and hidden valleys of Kauai. Loco Mocos, though, I don’t recommend before the helicopter ride. Old Fashioneds and Dark Stormy’s… thank you Chef. Chef… really thank you. For All. Of. The. Things.

She’s brave… because today she returns home. A bit more ready to face the next turn of the page, the next chapter, fully confident, at least in this moment, to navigate the next thing her life presents. To take on new relationships… some that are just beginning to form, for the ones yet to flourish. To start packing for the move to Arizona, to finding her short term landing place while the house finishes. She’s ready, more than she has been, in a hot minute to simply be herself, authentically, and unapologetically.


Big. Girl. Things… live intentionally, live unapologetically, and LIVE. OUT. LOUD.

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One Week In Paradise…

Get Through In Going Through.

Today is Thursday, day three in paradise. And for the most part, things have been pretty glorious. I have spent my mornings on the beach an have decided I can literally stay there for hours contemplating. Contemplating the beauty of the sunrise every single morning, how the waves crash into the shore in perfect time, every time, how the hermit crabs just seem to do their thing without being told what to do.

And then there’s me.

Learning what to do with myself is a lot of work. Yesterday, it was trying a Loco Moco, enjoying Bloody Marys and Bourbon. It was daring to take an island helicopter tour…. that one for two reasons, first, I’m not a natural thrill seeker. It doesn’t come easily to me. Things that are death defying are usually not where you’ll typically find me. And second… I have a very toxic almost relationship with money and the decision to part with $300 for an hour of flight time, well, that takes work. That ride was $5.00 a minute, so it took some work to get on board with that. And… it was worth every. single. dollar.

Then there was some pool time, some meet Sheritta in the bar time, and the music last night was on point. Honestly. So Sheritta and I became instant groupies, and after the performance at Shutters, the hotel bar, we took to our room, dolled up right quick and went to Rob’s a local dive joint to watch show two.

On the topic of thrill seeking…

The road trip to Rob’s qualifies. You see everything in Kauai closes early. It’s a quirky little place. A tropical Mayberry, where people go home to family, live on island time, their time, All. The. Time. So we got our Lyft and made it to Rob’s… Old Fashions, parmesan fries, and more great music. Kawei… the singer with the beautiful face, beautiful voice, and beautiful soul is in the midst of her own heartbreak and it showed up at Rob’s. I’m not sure if I can call it a God shot or not, but there was comfort in being in a common place of heartbreak with another soul. Knowing that the only thing you can do is provide a hug and comfort. What a gift to be in that place at that time for that soul. And then there’s getting back to the hotel at 10:00 Kauai time… Mayberry time. On our way out, we met a couple of gentlemen that were pretty darn sure that our Lyft wasn’t gonna happen. Handsome gentlemen, and I have no doubt they would have stuck around to be sure we weren’t stranded. And so we got back to the room… It was completely out of my comfort zone. I blame my Virgo… maybe it’s her, but maybe it’s been years of having to play it safe, for a million reasons.

Today Sarah gets married. The weather is perfect, and it’s my hope that holds out just that way… I spent this morning at the beach, contemplative time. Still shedding tears. And today I wonder if they are really over the loss of the relationship or the realization that I am in a period of aloneness. I tell myself the latter, and actually believe my heart is catching up there.

Tomorrow. Day four in paradise… Sheritta has a coffee tour planned, I have a date with sunrise, the waves, and the hermit crabs. We also have a date with the spa at 2:15 for massage time. There’s something to revel in with self care. After that, maybe I’ll read, maybe I’ll walk the beach, maybe I’ll nap…

The thing is… I get to decide whatever it is that’s right for me in that moment, and I’ll decide when I get there. Until then, I’m thinking about how to author the next chapter of this journey of mine. There are some amazing things in the pages we’ll be turning. Setting up home in Arizona, a trip to the National Apartment Association Trade Show and Conference in San Diego. Connecting with a certain chef and kicking it around for a day or two. Another trip or two to AZ before move time…and really whatever else I decide and feels like makes sense to me.

#AlohaMotherFuckers. #TropicalMayberry

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Milestones.

Waiting To Exhale…

If I’m being honest… there is so much in this week to be excited about, and yet, there is still a little lingering dread. Maybe a lot.

Kauai.

For the most part, I am super excited about leaving the world behind on Tuesday, spending some much needed time on the beach, listening to the waves, feet in sand, butt in cabana, book in hand. And yet, there’s just no escaping the very real and still painful awareness that you won’t be there with me.

It sucks.

I have closure, believe me, you gave that to me in spades, and yet this is one more reminder that we’re not us. Really, the progress I’ve made in the past two ish weeks has been so good for me. There’s little crying, very little, and on the occasion that it catches me, it’s brief. I’m glad for that. But the very sad very real fact remains that this vacation was going to be our first real vacation together. And I’ll grieve that it’s not.

I believe Sheritta and I will have an amazing time, and I really need to think on how to be sure I am filling time wisely, without being stuck in my head, without constant lamentation, without wishing for something that doesn’t exist and will never be. Because as glorious as doing nothing sounds, doing nothing gives me time to be alone in my head, and we all know what happens when I spend too much time alone in my head. Facebook Live happens. I need things that keep me from missing you.

It’s funny to still miss you.

Or the thought of “you.”

Because you aren’t who I thought you were.

I can’t help to wonder if you’ll be thinking about your own “What Ifs” on Tuesday? On a gut level I have to believe you will. Not that I think you really give a shit from a place of authentic feeling, regret, or consideration for what you’ve done.

It’s almost psychopathic.

You play people the way people play cards or golf, they go, play a game, play to win, and at the end of the sport change your shoes, put the gear away and move on to the next task on a list. I have such a hard time understanding that… and how people who believe themselves to be kind do that to another person.

But we’ll choose something different here, given my post yesterday on boundaries and expectations.

For you, there are no boundaries and expectations.

It’s how you’ve lived a life like you have. It’s how you’re stuck with the life you are in, because boundaries and expectations are not a part of your moral fabric and plan for living.

Do. It. Different.

I am going on a holiday with Sheritta. A girlfriend who seriously brings out the best in me. She creates the space to live confidently and out loud. Looking forward to experiences that will matter for a lifetime. I’ve done two other girl type getaways, one with my sweet friend Dani when we had the full on solar eclipse a few years back, and then just a couple of years ago to Fargo to visit Jeffery and Jim with Jenny and Angie. This experience here is by far the biggest and most EPIC, that I’ve done without the aid and assist of a partner and I am seriously proud, excited, and encouraged by that. Big Girl Things matter this week and those BGTs are confronting what’s uncomfortable and welcoming it, because the only way to get through it is to go through it. BGTs are enjoying a well earned vacation, searching out the experiences that will fill the pages, and create the memories. If there’s a need to cry, I’ll cry. If there’s a need to laugh, I’ll laugh. If there’s a need to scream, I’ll scream. There will be a need to experience…

The Bernie burn the shit down moment… Fuck I love Bernie. I love that she gets what she deserves for the lumps she’s taken and the knock down she endures.

The Gloria this shit can’t be real moment… when she learns her ex-husband is gay and her son trying to be a man before the time is right. Fuck I love Gloria. I love that she finds love.

The Savanah and Robin moments… women who break the cycle of the myth of needing a man in their lives to feel complete if it’s not the right man in the right time or the right place. They didn’t settle for what the respective men in their lives would offer, they demanded more and when the men couldn’t put up, these women put them out.

I think I see myself in all of these women, I’ve seen my reflection in their behaviors. Burning the shit down, having the this shit can’t be real, even accepting less than I deserve in a relationship. More. Than. Once. And… setting some boundaries about not just taking what you have to give because it’s all you have to offer. Waiting for my real worth having one.

They are all waiting to exhale, and they all do in their way… I’m waiting for that moment too. I’ll find it, maybe tomorrow, or in a week, or this time next year…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrTuV4Szxzo

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Boundaries and Expectations…

Big Girl Things…

I believe so much in our world, our day to day happiness, unhappiness, and outright distraught-ness, typically revolves around our ability, or in ability to establish appropriate boundaries and expectations. I say this… because I happen to be a PRO at doing a poor job with boundaries and only marginally better with expectations.

In the world of Big Girl Things, which has become a mantra lately, this is an area where I believe I need to give some special attention and practice to.

And here’s why.

The suffering I create for myself because I presume and want to believe my circle ticks like me is just fundamentally inaccurate. Not across the board, but it shows up. I am a consistent rose tinted glasses wearer. I see the good, to a fault, to the place where I would see red flags as circus indicators rather than for what they truly are, the warning signs along my path. I believed my last relationship wanted what I wanted. In part, because of my rose color glasses, in part, because he wasn’t able to articulate that we weren’t really on the same page at all; he was going along for the ride, because being clear with his expectations wasn’t something he was able to communicate. Boy howdy, would it have saved some heartache if he had.

So do it different.

Learn from the mistakes of our past. Simply because we believe in our boundaries of today doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to make better choices, set stronger boundaries, and clearer expectations for ourselves in the future. I want to be clear, because it’s important, boundaries and expectations are set by ourselves for ourselves. We can’t, though I try, to set boundaries and expectations for others in our lives. Notwithstanding small children, rarely does it work. I fall in to this trap all of the time, and I believe many women, and men do too. I think because I am my “norm” people I identify with and surround myself with are cut from the same cloth, and while that may be true, it really doesn’t mean we have common boundaries and expectations though the likelihood could be greater than not.

Just today.

I pulled up the big girl panties, and reset and shifted some expectations and boundaries. It was hard, and uncomfortable and necessary. And did I mention uncomfortable? I am in a season where I get to redefine myself. What is acceptable to me and for me. This has created the space for me to consider the woman I want to be. I’ve lately received a ton of messages, texts, emails of other women in my circle affirming my bravery, my authenticity, my honesty, and I am touched beyond measure by such great belief in me.

But…

For those accolades and messages to really apply and belong to me, I need to be aware of the boundaries I am setting, the expectations I have for my life and how I am choosing to orchestrate it. It matters. Especially when another woman or women are watching. Am I behaving in a fashion deserving of the compliments?

And…

When I’m not, it’s on me to reset and realign my boundaries and expectations to rise to the occasion.

Hard? Yes! Perfect? Absolutely NOT! Getting Better?

Every. Single. Day.

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I’m At My Best…

A tale of time.

The past two months have given me so much to think about and consider about me, who I believe I am, who I believe I want to be. They’ve taught me about the things that make me amazing, vulnerable, scared, angry, sad, lonely… they’ve taught me when I am at my best, and when I’m not.

I am at my best…

When I am with friends, with family, with the people who pour into me, and those I can pour back into. And it’s not always a question of proximity. Though… sometimes it is. Wednesday night I was able to spend an occasion with my friend Amy. Amy is amazing… she tells it like it is and I can always count on her for that. Even in the moments when I fucking hate it. We had another mutual friend at The Castle and some of Amy’s other friends, who I believe I will commandeer for myself as well. And… it was comfortable and fun and gave me space to be at my best. I. Love. People. I love the stories we share and the touch points that bring us to common intersections. I love what connects us, even in the six degrees of Kevin Bacon kind of way. Amy’s friend Carey, and I think I’m misspelling her name, is an ’87 graduate of Aurora Central High School. Degree two. I am a ’91 graduate of ACHS. She graduated one year before my arrival and yet we’re connected by Amy and Aurora Central.

Jeff… a graduate of Gateway High School. We’re connected through a common industry and both know Amy. Degree two. Common industry. Common City. It’s funny the little twists and turns you take.

It was really a perfect evening and did a ton for me in the battle of Liz v. Loneliness. Liz I, loneliness 0.

I am at my best…

When I am at happy hour with Jaymee. Sitting on the upstairs patio of The View House. the sun is shining and though it’s a bit windy, it’s still a beautiful afternoon. I’m grateful for her friendship, for her awareness of where I am and what I need. Today… it was wine, nachos, a little confession, a little straight talk, a little looking at the super cute manager type at the restaurant. Jaymee is not unlike Amy. She too… tells it just how it is, and with a flair that only Jaymee has.

It was vacation pregame.

Tomorrow is Friday.

I am at my best…

When I am having lunch with Sheritta. I love love love her too… she’s amazing. Most of the women in my life are. Sheritta is also my companion next week for Kauai. You see, Chet and I were going to spend next week together in Kauai but clearly that’s changed. Originally I thought I’d go alone. Being self aware, because if nothing else, I am at least self aware, I decided that was a terrible idea. So… change out a ticket, pay a difference in airfare and now I will be spending the week with one of my favorite gal pals. I love Sheritta… she’s one of my single gal pals, and dammit she makes it look so easy. I love her for that and I am sure there’s a lesson or two here to be had in this.

I am hoping for my Waiting To Exhale moment. I still struggle with wanting to burn the shit down, like really burn it down… But, instead, I believe the best thing I can do for myself in this moment, is to go to Kauai, enjoy every single moment afforded me, enjoy the beach, the waves, the company of a great girlfriend, the wedding of my niece Sarah, seeing my brother Dave, and watching him walk his baby girl down the aisle.

I believe I am at my best when I am able to be true to myself, for the good, the bad, and the ugly. I believe I am at my best when I am authentically me, even when that shows up as a ten minute tirade on Facebook Live. I believe I am at my best when I can share my life, the good, the bad, with people who mean something to me. So thank you Amy, for sharing your life with me, unapologetically, on the treadmill, at the track, at The Castle and letting me share my life with you… you’ve had more than your fair share of me. Thank you Jaymee… girl, just thank you. You’re fierce and I love that, you’re unapologetic, and I love that too. Thank you Sheritta, for being my last minute wingman, I believe you’re my perfect companion on this one… and I am looking forward to the gal pal holiday. Thank you Chef Untisz… for dinner pictures, and filling some of the loneliness. And to everyone else, and you know you who are, for being a part of the last two months, propping me up when necessary, validating my “crazy”, validating that the last two months are less about me and more about what he isn’t, wasn’t and never will be… not in a million years.

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Liz and Loneliness…

What loneliness is and where does it come from?

Karine and I just finished my session.

We talked about the happenings of the week and the aftermath of all of those happenings, and I am happy to say I am okay with where the week ended with respect to my behaviors and choices.

We talked about loneliness.

There’s a lot to unpack with loneliness. Because usually, I am pretty good. Monday – Friday 8:30 – 5:00 ish, no sweat. Right? Today was packed with getting shirts ready to deliver to customers. Sales calls. Phone calls. Gym at 3:45 ish. Make dinner. Therapy. Blog… and then hit the tub, get wound down and ready for bed. I’ll sleep well tonight after having a time with it last night.

The same is true for Tuesday through Friday. I handle the week pretty well. Not to say I don’t have moments where I am lonely, or bored… or missing community. These are the things that make my loneliness palatable. I am social, and I love being engaged and being at home alone stifles that.

The weekend.

Weekends are tough. I work very hard to have plans enough to keep me busy enough so the time alone is more bearable. This weekend is all about getting ready for Hawaii. I have a hair appointment on Saturday which is great… right in the middle of the day, sound choice. Sunday, I’ll have church… and then go get my toes done. So I am reasonably sure I will navigate the weekend, this weekend, fairly unscathed. I’m grateful for the trip to Kauai and having things to do to prepare for travel.

So what is lonely…?

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I asked Merriam Webster:

lonely

 adjective

lone·​ly |  \ ˈlōn-lē   \

lonelierloneliest

Definition of lonely

1abeing without company LONEtoo many lonely nights at home

bcut off from others SOLITARYthe train stopped frequently at lonely little stations— Robert Hichens

2not frequented by human beings DESOLATElonely spot in the woods

3sad from being alone LONESOMEHe was feeling lonely without his wife and children.

4: producing a feeling of bleakness or desolationit’s a lonely thing to be a champion— G. B. Shaw

It’s all of these things and more.

It’s the loss of a relationship, the need for companionship, the need for community, the need for a having a “place” to be or fit in. It’s being bored, it’s having your furry friend, but that’s the only company in the house. And it’s real. And it’s hard to navigate. And if you are lonely, I want you to know I am here, and I am lonely too, and I would love to be your partner in navigating our loneliness.

I am working on loneliness.

And, I am taking one small victory lap today. Because people don’t always talk about the hard things. And today, I am choosing to talk about my hard thing. Loneliness. I believe it will get easier as long as I am honest with it. I believe it’s like working out a muscle. I am NEVER going to be a fan of a solitary life, I’m not wired that way, in fact, quite the opposite. I am made for relationships, friendships, platonic, and romantic. I will work on appreciating my friends, and my network, and reaching out to those to help me navigate this time of loneliness.

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Being Single.

Navigating together time alone…

Today is Easter Sunday.

I went to church this morning and as always the message is meaningful and strikes me in my gut. Pastor Robert Gelinas at Colorado Community Church is one of the most gifted I’ve ever had the joy to listen to. I love how the Lord uses him to speak to so many as if he’s speaking to only one.

I was going to meet a friend for lunch today, but life happens and our plans had to change. If I am being honest, and because it’s all I have, I am disappointed. In my singleness, I still struggle so much with being alone. If I could have weeks that were all just Monday through Friday 8:30 – 5:30 it would be so much easier.

It’s the together time alone I have no idea how to really deal with yet.

When your aloneness is so loud that you don’t know how to handle it, you don’t know how to package it up and effectively deal with it. So you spend the day on the couch… most of it crying. Crying for reasons you should and crying for reasons you shouldn’t. Crying because letting go is hard. Crying because being alone is hard… Crying because this is the absolute last place you ever expected to find yourself on Easter Sunday 2022.

Alone.

As a social person, an all out let’s face it extrovert, days like today are met with tight muscles and an in the gut desire to sleep until tomorrow morning. And I can’t. I mean I did most of the day… of course, now there’s the probability that sleep will escape me tonight. Leaving me in the place where I have to confront my loneliness.

You see it doesn’t matter if I am confronting it now, or later, but eventually, I have to confront it. It’s not going anywhere. And I don’t know where to start… it’s like folding and putting away laundry, you know you have to do it, but you don’t want to. Or getting your colonoscopy, or going to the dentist, or the grocery store, anything that sits on your list that you frankly just don’t want to do.

Mine is dealing with loneliness.

Photo by Du01b0u01a1ng Nhu00e2n on Pexels.com

I feel like there are a good many books on navigating singleness, aloneness, loneliness. I wish there was a class you could take and at the end, you certificate up and are now an expert in navigating loneliness. But that couldn’t happen, not as much as I pray it would.

So I found myself on Audible.

How To Be Single

How To Be Alone

Resilient

Navigating Loneliness

The Loneliness Companion

I’m going to start at the top… and work my way down the list, keeping an open mind, and a hopeful heart that I will find a way through this mess of a lonely place I am in. Thankful for the time I have with companionship and then learning to be okay in the times when I don’t. It’s so fucking uncomfortable that I can bear it. It’s the physical pain in the heart, and the gut, the despondency you just want to disappear. I am sorry and empathetic for those who suffer this everyday. Because for me at least I can take hope and comfort that it’s only in waves, and that they don’t always last for long.

“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” James 4:8

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Big Girl Things…

A lesson in pulling up your panties.

I’m sitting at Phoenix Sky Harbor waiting to come home.

It’s been a long week. And as with everything there are ups and downs countless to mention, but it really gives me cause to pause on why focusing on the Big Girl Things is the smart move, ALWAYS.

Arrived on Monday and was able to visit the Capone Compound. That’s what we’re going to call it. Give it a Godfather kinda vibe. I love my house and we’re checking that on the Big Girl Things list. Building my home, buying my home, making my home. Unassisted.

Tuesday… I did lots of sales calls. Lots of them. Now it takes a special sort of person that can walk in to a building knowing no one, engage in some brief conversation and walk out with new friends. Usually that person is a high I on the DISC assessment. I am a high I. I also had happy hour with Kelsey from MEB Management. She’s an amazing young women I am doing leadership training with. I can’t wait to watch her career flourish. She reminds me a bit of Jennifer Nesset with Sares Regis, self made woman and powerful with impeccable style.

Now… here’s where we need to work on some BGT. I went to HIS house. Stupid move for sure and did nothing for me…

Except.

There was some closure because the door never opened. It’s the kind of thing you expect from a spineless person. So good things there, though actually going there was a piss poor choice. On the way home, I was the victim of flying debris from a flatbed truck in front of me. Thankful to God for keeping me safe in that moment. BGTs include being thankful to an amazing God, the ultimate protector and miracle maker. It could have been a terrible accident. It wasn’t. Big Girls thank God. Tuesday we also learned big girls should always trust your gut. The evidence is in and he’s a spineless cheater.

Wednesday. I had some fantastic interactions with new clients. I love getting to know people, hearing the stories on what makes them tick, learning about the road that brought them to our intersection. I also got to set up for my trade show, broke my booth, punted to create great looking booth space. Big Girls ADAPT. And… they can do it, and often do it, On. A. Dime.

Thursday. We did the AMA Tucson Trade Show and Education Conference. What a whirlwind event! Now it was cool because there were some of my Denver peeps there and that’s always cool. The show was super brief, like four hours… let me tell you I shook more hands and kissed more babies, and it was fantastic. I am so grateful to have a career that takes my people strengths and gives them a place to thrive, really really thrive. Big Girls embrace great careers and amazing opportunities. They don’t take those moments and opportunities for granted.

Friday. Go home time. Big Girls can’t wait to get home to the men in their lives that REALLY matter. Daniel, Dad, and Tod… though I am not sure if it’s in that order… they understand there are just some men that are better and more reliable than others, and if it’s not her Daddy, then she’s not really sure who. It’s her son, who makes her proud every day with every grown man choice he makes and then it’s her best boy and furry friend, who’s always happy to see her, and doesn’t need a reason to wag the tail and follow her everywhere. Big Girls show gratitude for those relationships with those men that make a difference. Of course, I’m also happy to return home to my fellow Big Girls affectionately known as the Girl Gang. These women are the support that keep me going on the days when I am not sure I can, nor want to… Some of them have the soft fluffy answers, some have the hard truths, they all have my back and my world is so much better for having them. Big Girls support other girls… it’s what we do. We understand family is not always DNA driven. It’s women who share common goals, hopes, dreams, pains, desires.

So let’s pack it up and go home Big Girl. You have shit to do. Big Girls get shit done!

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Don’t Let The Door Hit You…

A Lesson In Truth.

So… there it is.

The truth is out there. For you, for me. And it changes everything.

What I said to your dad when I picked up my things last month was true. I told him two things. Where I got bedbugs… and I believed you were back with Gina. Of course I wasn’t so gentle of language, but that’s water under the bridge. But here’s what I learned.

I believe truth is the most important part of ANY relationship. You can’t do anything without honesty. So let’s be honest shall we?

You were never in it. You couldn’t be.

You avoid hard things, adult things, big boy things they way most people avoid the plague. And. You’re a liar. There are just no two ways about that.

So the lessons learned are simple.

I should not have pursued anything with you as long as you were (and are) still married. That’s on me. That’s my decision making. I also learned you don’t, never have, and never will deserve me, or the love I had to offer you.

You see it’s simple.

I deserve a man that can look in the mirror and be proud of who’s looking back at him. The one who can take care of his big boy responsibilities. The one who knows he has integrity the one who doesn’t have to remember what he’s said because he doesn’t have to lie. That’s the man I deserve. And that is the man I am waiting for.

I’ve spent a good deal of time questioning if that’s a thing? Is he a leprechaun the thing you think you’ll find at the end of a spectacular rainbow? Maybe.

But here’s some more truth.

I’d rather wait a lifetime for the unicorn, the leprechaun the one that is sure of who is is and can wear his own skin proudly, without having to lie, back peddle, tell a story to cover another and another and another story. Waiting on that man… won’t leave me with a broken heart, it won’t leave me with feeling lied to or deceived. The one who is ready, willing, and able to match my drive, my effort, my pursuit of kindness and excellence…

So before you leave, and honestly I give no shits on whether or not the door hits you on the way out or not, remember you reap what you sow, and you’ve sown some pretty awful shit, you know it and so do I. We both know now EXACTLY what and who you are. I am sure she knows too… I can only pray she’ll figure it out, or be content in bed at night with a liar. I want to believe you weren’t what you turned out to be. But you’ve shown me, in spades, the man you are, and the man you could never be if you lived a million years.

My dear friend Amy… this is the last one. The last post I will ever share about the last year. Thank you for being a consistent support, the one who listened to all of the tears I cried, the doubts I had, and never once judged me for where I was in the process and the one who never let me believe this had anything to do with me. You’re right. It was never about me.

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