What Keeps Us Up At Night…

My desire for control….

If you know me, or follow me on Facebook, LinkedIn, or even here on WordPress through my blogs, you know I have a thing about control and having answers. Not so much in an OCD kinda way, but the I do so much better when I know what’s coming next kind of way. Maybe it’s a touch OCD?

So there are some things that have been keeping me up at night, and I believe they all stem from what I want to, but can not control.

The house.

I started building last November, and here we are and the finish line is not quite in sight, we’re still waiting on cabinets, but it’s creating an entire thought process that keeps me up at night. Changes to my credit report. Where are the cabinets? Do I have a closing date? No… because I have no cabinets. Will I find a fridge and washer/dryer in the face of supply chain drama? The fear of giving notice on my apartment too early. To pack or not to pack. What kind of knobs to buy? Who can help install ceiling fans… and I tell you the list just goes on and on and on. Really.


I am about six ish months in to my new job as a Regional Account Manager with Trane Technologies. I love love love what I do. Connecting with people and help the find solutions is one of those things that always makes my heart happy. But… the HVAC portion of the industry is new to me. The vertical and customers not really, though my decision makers and influencers is probably a little different. I worry about my performance. Am I doing enough? Am I demonstrating value? Am I learning enough? Can I navigate a clunky process? New boss… that’s a whole different can of worms, particularly when we all work remotely from one and other. Managing expectations. Travel. Quarterly bonus submissions. Trade shows… networking events.

It. Just. Goes. On.

Home. Life. Relationship. (and Tod Christopher)

My best bud and furry friend.

My son continues to navigate the finer dynamics of living on his own, being responsible for his decisions. Having a support system, and sometimes flat out still needing his parents. Or not. A strained relationship with my mother, and while it doesn’t keep me up at night, which might be seen as a problem, is something that always seems to be lurking in the background. Strained relationship with one of my brothers, really for reasons unknown. Again, not a keep me up at night thing… but, white noise in the background that bothers me. My younger sister in IL and her challenges, physically, emotionally, financially. Things I have seriously no control over. And… even if I did?

Tod Christopher. He’s literally my best bud and fury friend. And he’s aging, dramatically so. Losing weight at a pretty alarming rate for a little dog. Sometimes he wanders just mindlessly, like little doggy Alzheimers. He’s having increased issues with incontinence and so that brings an endless cycle of doggy pampers. Is it too early? I’m afraid of waiting for it to be too late. Is it me being a bad dog mom? This does keep me up at night.

Love and relationships.

Sometimes I still reel over the break up with Chet and still play a litany of what its and other various mind games. Even though, and I know, he’s back with his ex-wife, wife, not really sure but I guess wife is right since he never completed his divorce. The what if game if he shows up on my door step in Arizona, though, I know pretty decidedly isn’t likely to happen, and yet, sometimes it rears its ugly head and shows up and interrupts my slumber.

New. Guy. Long distance and somewhat complicated. I fall fast. Does he fall fast? Does he fall? Balancing red flags and circus flags. None of this stuff is easy. None. And there are some rough ish similarities between NG and OG. Do you trust NG or keep the wall up because OG totally smashed a very willing heart in to a million little pieces without blinking an eye? He’s sweet. How do I manage what I want and need in a next relationship with what he wants and needs in a next relationship. None of this shit is easy and it interrupts my sleep and keeps me awake at night. Go public. Don’t go public. Compromise. Expectations. Communication. All keep me up.

And then…

Making peace with the only thing I do have control in — in any of this.


I can only control my responses. My actions. My personal Liz expectations, not the ones I’d like to impose. Not the ones I’d like to see other people make. The only thing I can control is me and how I am showing up. And that’s hard too, and that keeps me up. On the whole, I believe I am getting better ish at it. I think. I at the very least am aware that I have a full on love affair with control, and it’s not likely to serve me well… though make no mistake having the ability to just take control can be as much a beautiful gift as a damaging curse.

So if you’re anything like me, and I imagine I know some people who find this very relatable. I see you. I feel your pain, and I am in your corner navigating our need for control.

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Catching Feelings…

Is it avoidable?

It’s kind of like catching Covid, chickenpox, or a cold… So contagious and you’re not really ever sure where you caught it from.

I recently caught a case of both Covid-19 and feelings. I’m not sure which one I caught first but I caught them both.

Let’s start with Covid. Easier to dissect where I got it from. A trade show. Three weeks ago. ish. Shaking hands and kissing babies and shaking hands. And kissing more babies.

The feelings… let’s talk about that. I’m not sure when I caught them, but I am guessing it was right about the same time.

I went to Simi Valley, CA, over the Memorial Day weekend. Visiting a gentleman I went on a few dates with before I started dating my now ex-husband, which makes me wonder if I chose wrong or, maybe not, or maybe needed to go through all of the places and spaces that brought me here. We started talking again after the break-up. I was so very afraid that I didn’t treat him with the respect he deserved and after having been done dirty and shitty and carelessly with Chet, I didn’t want to ever do that to another human. And…

If there was a chance I had, which in this case I thought I might…. I needed to clean it up.

So I reached out to clean it up.


He’s sweet. Charming. He cooks. He’s kind. He’s all of the things that you look for in a partner.

He remembers.

That I like crushed red pepper on my spaghetti. He listens.

He’s sent me some pretty pretty things, and thoughtful gifts. He calls. He texts.

He doesn’t do PDA well. Honestly, I am hoping he gets better with that. I love dancing in public for now reason. I love kisses, hugs, hand holds and bootie grabs.

He’s not sure about us. Not in the way that lightning strikes kind of way. Maybe in the same way I’m not sure, but different. He caught a case of feelings with someone. Fell fast, fell hard, and has some skinned knees and a bruised heart to show for it.

He has some flags… are they red? They might be. He has some similarities to a previous relationship that scare the literal fuck out of me. See my don’t be that girl post.

But I take him at his word… for now.

He went through the struggle to spend some time with me this week and it wasn’t easy for him to do. And it was amazing…. and so somewhere between Memorial Day and this week, I’ve managed to catch some feelings for this man. And…

Trust is a bitch.

It usually only takes one person to fuck it up for the next six people.

I don’t know what to do with this case of feelings I’ve caught.

I caught them pretty fast and I caught them pretty hard. And that never surprises me. Because that’s just how it happens. It happened with Chet that way.

And… I’ve caught them at a different pace than he’s caught them. That’s scary. Because it’s vulnerable and scary, and did I mention scary and long distance. Let’s not forget to throw that in to the mix.

Honestly right? You might be wondering if I am just that oblivious or naive? It might be a bit of both with an extra shake of the naive. And… spell check is calling me out on my spelling of naive.

But I’ve caught them and now I have them and I am seriously not sure what to do with them. And so we’ll see…

I am hoping.

That he’s gonna find his way to where he’s happy, valued, not door-matted and loved. I’m hoping whatever is next on the horizon for me leads me away from heartbreak, toward love, fulfillment, success, peace and drama free days, and drama free nights. I’d love to see where he fits in that.

Never give up on love.

Never be afraid to catch feelings.

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When There Are More Questions Than Answers…

Then what?

Sometimes… there are more questions than answers.

And when that happens…

Then what?

Why is it that when I am quarantined and staying home I don’t want to… though this weekend prying myself from the house seemed like an all out chore?

Why do I want chocolate ice cream when there’s only vanilla.

Why is it some of us love Coca Cola and others adore Pepsi.

And why is it… that we only want what we want when we fucked around and fucked it up? When we could have openly have had it? But chose differently.

I tend to think of this as a pretty female phenomena but wonder if the same is true with men.

I don’t want you… until someone else wants and has you. Then… I’ll fight to the end, with all I’ve got to get what I had, tossed aside, didn’t contribute to, and otherwise was just a fucked kind of person to back. Now bearing in mind in any of the circumstances where this happens there is of course another side of the story. But it happens with such frequency but I can’t help but to wonder. Just how many of us do this?

Then what??

I’m trying to reflect on my relationships and wonder if I’ve been that person? I don’t want you… until someone else does too… Honestly, I think that answer is no. I can’t honestly recall a time where I was only inspired to act on a relationship because I had it and tossed it aside, and someone else saw the beauty in what I had relegated for trash… I honestly don’t see where I’ve done that, and I am grateful for that.

Because who wants to be that girl?

Knowing… there are a lot of “those girls” out there.

So to those girls… a suggestion. A little coaching if you will…

The grass may or may not be greener on the other side, I don’t know, it’s an answer that only you find when you choose to travel to the other side of the fence to find out. But when you do cross and you find that it’s not… be a bigger woman. Admit you fucked up, you didn’t treat the relationship with respect, you too were culpable in what happened and own your shit. Then… be the kind of woman you know in your gut you should be and grow up, pull up your big girl panties and move the fuck on. It’s uncomfortable to be sure, but I will tell you it saves you looking like a petty little bitch no one has time for.

No One.

This is directed in a few directions to be sure… one maybe more so than others. But I am unable to just let things happen, that happen and shouldn’t that as a woman I find this kind of girl, the one who wants her toys back after leaving them kicked aside… well I kinda wanna vomit in my mouth a little bit, and maybe I just did.

Be the kind of woman your next relationship deserves.

“I’m not a one in a million kind of girl. I’m a once in a lifetime kind of woman.”

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Be The Woman…

Or at least try.

Be the woman that wishes nothing but the best for another woman.

Even when…

You don’t want to.

You don’t think she deserves it.

She doesn’t wish it for you.

When she’s discarded treasure and wants to have it back.

She doesn’t appreciate what she has.

She doesn’t appreciate what she had.

Doesn’t give a damn who she hurts.

Takes advantage of another person’s kindness, love, and generosity.

Be the woman…that knows her worth.

Even when…

You don’t want to.

You don’t think you deserve it.

Others influence you NOT to.

You don’t know where to start.

Even if you’ve doubted it a million times before.

Even when…

Be the woman that loves again…

Even when…

You don’t think you can.

You don’t want to.

You don’t know how to.

You’re AFRAID to.

You know there is so much risk in it.

Be THAT woman.

“Behind every successful woman is a tribe of other successful women who have her back.” 

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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!


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.


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.


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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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.


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…


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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.


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?


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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