have mercy

A Pitch for Therapy

2019-07-26T10:59:00.001-07:00

There are two things I know. The first is, the truth will set you free. The second is, everyone could use some therapy.

A skilled therapist holds up the truth and compares it with the story you've believed about your life and what you believe about the world. I began benefiting from this comparison when I went to talk therapy to address sexual abuse I experienced when very young. I was shown the difference between my story (that it was my fault) and the reality: it was my dad’s fault. I learned I could stop punishing myself and after four years with my counselor, it felt like someone had cut loose a bag of bricks I’d been carrying. Life felt wonderfully light.

Years later, my body started sending me signals we had some unfinished business. Fatigue and migraines were my constant reminder and I researched self-care. I eventually found my way to an EMDR therapist who could help process trauma out of my body, which tests had shown maintained high levels of cortisol all the time. If you aren't familiar with cortisol, it's what your body releases to help you escape if you're being chased by wolves, but having it circulate in your body on the regular makes you sick. Early trauma taught my body to keep those levels high because more trauma was always on its way.

So I began with much frustration towards my "slow to catch on" body. Why couldn’t it get the memo? I’m safe now. Why couldn’t I feel the truths I knew in my head, deep down in my gut? I wanted so badly to feel safe in every cell of my body and I didn’t know if I’d ever get there.

This is me with my Grandpa, where I was always safe.

I want to share that I'm on my way! With therapy that keeps me present in my body, a reunion has begun between the body and soul I separated to survive.

When the abuse started, I only separated from my body during the experience, but eventually, I gave up on going back. It wasn't worth it when all my body ever did was hurt. So I left it behind, even though I dragged it around, but never looked it in the eye. If my body said it needed something, my first response was always, No.

I banked on my brain. WE would go places. And my brain was kind enough to forget the abuse, so we got along fine. But a brain without a body isn’t much at all. Yoga was where I gave the first friendly side-glances to my body. There were some bashful smiles and then a punishing diet and finally, more attention to what my body had to say.

Observing my body led to a fledgling appreciation. One day, I was surprised by the thought, It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. By the time I was in EMDR, I wanted to embrace my body, but still felt furious about it’s ongoing struggles, especially the sexual ones.

So I’d been scapegoating my body all along, despite acknowledging my father's responsibility years ago. If only my body had been able to absorb the abuse without being hurt by it, we could have a good life. But no. It was vulnerable and got hurt and was still not okay today. I felt my body had a terrible track record and there was no reason to think I'd ever find my breakthrough.

My husband, Brian, asked once, “So you feel doomed around your health?”

And I said, “No, it’s much more than a feeling. It’s an awful, aching knowing.”

From this place, therapy again held up truth for me and this time, it was getting deeper than my brain. Here are the truths that are dawning on my tired heart and feeling like brand-spankin' new life:

Where I felt my father had won and I could never defeat him, I saw I had triumphed the day I told my mom.
Where I felt doomed about my physical struggles, I learned they could change as quickly as my requirement to visit my dad every other weekend.
I'd always felt it was a lie to tell myself it was over. In therapy, I realized that THAT is indeed over. While I may be victimized in the future, it will not be as a little girl. I will know what’s happening is wrong. It won’t happen over and over. In my home. And it will not be my fuckin’ father. No, I can finally hold little Kendra (because in this moment we are all the ages we ever were) and promise her it’s over.
I felt afraid of losing Brian. It’s just now occurring to me that my father threw away everything good about our relationship for sex, but that doesn't mean Brian will. He’s staying.
I felt I had to work a miracle to keep Brian, achieve perfect sexuality by erasing every trace of trauma. I had to right the wrong. Well, I can’t turn back time, so this will not be possible. The truth is, I don’t have to work miracles to have happiness. I can just have it.

These new beliefs are like seeds my counselor planted and now, their roots are sinking in deep. I'm writing this because I want you to know if you are left with deep, deep KNOWINGS from trauma, they can be changed. My therapist calls it blowing them out of the water. And we’re doing just that.

Main Bath

2019-03-08T20:33:00.001-08:00

We inherited a bathroom with more...bead board! Now, I don't think bead board is a bad choice, but it's a little on the too country/too busy side for me. Rather than skim coating this the way we did the kitchen bead board, I decided to paint it a rich blue. All the bathrooms I've admired lately are blue with lots of neutrals and pink touches, so I decided to go for it! It's bold and I absolutely love it. Here's how it looked before:

We knew right away that vanity was too small and the medicine cabinet and light would be coming down. We took the vanity and faucet down to the basement bathroom (that was just a toilet in and an ancient sink in the middle of a huge room, but more on that later.) Here it is with blue paint, the new light fixture and the vanity.

If I can make one thing easier for you, it's painting toilets. I'm green so I rarely use Saran Wrap, but now is the time. Painting around a toilet can be tricky and this makes it way easier. Also, eat raspberries when you paint. They help you clear out the toxins specific to paint! And they are easy/delicious which is the perfect snack when projecting.

So here we are! This little bathroom was challenging because I've never done a bathroom with this much brass and brass colors are all over the place (a.k.a. don't match each other). And some are downright ugly. Like greenish or they look silver at a glance. Since we have very few options in local stores, it was a lot of ordering and returning and frustration.

My advice in the end:

1) They don't have to match perfectly. Find them in the non-ugly range of brass you enjoy and call it good. Unless you buy everything from a single line, this will be the case AND IT LOOKS GREAT.

2) Don't make it all brass. The matchy-matchy old lady inside you may be screaming, "Brass everything!!" and she's sweet, but she's wrong. For example, our shower curtain rod is not brass with brass rings. They make them, but it was not a good idea. Brass is pretty loud and I don't want the focal point of our bathroom to be basic hardware. We also went with a brushed nickel faucet and it plays well with others. It saves dollars too, since brass is still new enough to be more expensive.

mirror | light

toilet paper holder

See? Lots of colors of brass and our shower rod is brushed nickel, which works well because of all the grey in the room. I'll admit that toilet paper holder isn't my fave, but it's there until the right one comes along.

rug (similar)

Once again, I've got creams and whites and blacks and grays (even a little tan in the vanity top) in this room and it gives it a soft, casual vibe.

white canister - Hobby Lobby

seascape print | picture frame | towel (similar)

I love the look of patterned, mismatched towels, which is also brilliant because when some wear out, you aren't stressed about finding something that matches. The towel on the left is from Target, the one on the right is an old World Market find and the hand towels are also from Target. I think this bathroom post could be sponsored by Target, now that I see how much of it is from there! One of my favorite pieces in this bathroom is the seascape above with the Opal House frame that feels vintage and interesting. I. Love. It. I love seeing it every day. So many sweet surprises packed into this tiny room, which makes me feel like a lucky ducky even if winter is lasting forever.

rope basket

Above the toilet, I have this DIY cat silhouette portrait of my previous cat, Leopold. This is super special to me and I realize now I promised a tutorial on this and never followed through. Sigh. I promise I will - it's so easy and you HAVE to know.

Here's the cubby we added by taking away part of the guest room closet. Before this was just a wall and we needed some place to put stuff. Now my hamper is tidily tucked under there and extra toilet paper is in plain sight (I recommend this for the sake of guests' stress levels) and I don't have to have a medicine cabinet that sticks out and blocks light over my sink. Win!

medicine cabinet (similar)

Here's the closer view. We'd hoped to do some kind of solid surface shelves, considering scraps wouldn't be very expensive, but we did this for now. It works and doesn't need extensive bracing. But wouldn't some grey marble be pretty?

curtain tie back

I'll admit, I have a couple issues with towel rings: they're ugly and they don't work. Towels are always slipping out and ending up on the floor. So I was determined to figure out something else to get my hand towel off my counter. I landed on this vintage looking brass curtain tie back from Anthropologie. I got it on sale before Christmas and that made it less painful cost-wise. I love it. I have a thing with birds and that he's perched on that little branch...so good. Now if you buy it, buy the opposite side you'd think based on the photo. I got about three that faced the wrong direction before getting them to send the right one!

Well, there it is. In the end, I feel this bathroom is small, but posh; zen, but colorful. Basically, all my favorites!

Hallway

2019-01-23T19:02:00.002-08:00

Hello again! Today we're going to zip through a reveal of our hallway, which is small, but sassy. Here we go!

The first thing you notice is the rug. I got mine at Home Goods, but if you need it in your life, Wayfair has it here. It was my jumping off point and gave the hall such a colorful vibe, I was able to put some of my favorite (very colorful) kids' art in here. It's a loop, rather than a pile, so I hope it will wear well in this high traffic area.

The light fixture in here was an accident of sorts. I bought the brass fixture for over the kitchen sink but it seemed too big and competed with the basket light over our table. I had ordered it from Menards and it had a clear glass globe, which broke in the hubbub. Unable to return it, I added this pretty globe from Home Depot and hung it in the hallway. It's SO much better than the boob light from which we'd been averting our gaze! I feel lucky since I wouldn't have prioritized a statement light fixture for the hall.

It's a small hall so I decided to keep my grouping of art small too. I didn't want to feel like the walls were full and coming in on me. Or that we'd be in danger of bumping them off whilst passing by. These are the new concerns of a small house, but we're enjoying the challenge.

I love seeing these cheery little pieces every day. Here's another view going the other direction so you can get a sneaky peaky of the room I painted a pretty color!!

Can you see it?! It is different and exactly what I wanted for my office so when I'm in there it FEELS different from the rest of the house.

One thing we plan to do in the future that will transform this hallway is to add trim to the doors until they look like this:

door

Then if we switch out the current knobs for some simple black ones, we'll have some handsome doors. Why? Well, the current ones are not only showing their age, but they're brass on the outside of the door and chrome on the inside. Was that a thing? Anyway, it will be a grand upgrade.

So there you have it! I've got two more rooms photographed, so hopefully I'll be back with the main bath and the master bedroom soon.

New Year: Celebration Over Goal-Setting

2019-01-02T18:22:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, friends!

My first thoughts on the new year were, "Peace out, 2018," because it's been a doozy, but when I looked at my best nine collage on Instagram, I realized the hard years have THE MOST to celebrate. Survival for one.

As usual, I'm not into setting goals for 2019 (let's be real, I always have plans and things in the works), but I would like to take a few moments to acknowledge the parts of 2018 I feel proud of.

1. I started a prayer meeting aimed at nourishing God-followers on their journey.
I've got big dreams for church and how I'd like to see it grow and reshape in my lifetime for the benefit of my kids and the folks it's actively hurting. I feel a glass ceiling effect with what my church offers, needing more of this or that and not finding it offered. So this has been my way of making change in my corner. It's been empowering and satisfying and shown me I'm not alone.

2. I began a daily meditation practice in September.
I've wanted to get still and know God is God for a long time, but not known how. My mind races. I don't know how to sit at Jesus' feet and just be with him. To learn how to do this, I've used the app Headspace and it's been a game-changer. Meditation has made me a better human, but I'll go into that more later.

I would say my desperate need for things to get better fueled this attempt. I've lived with fatigue for a long time now and the addition of selling our house and moving last winter was more than my body could take in stride. A couple more stressors and I was the most fatigued I've ever been. I couldn't get out of bed in the morning and was late to work regularly. I would sit up in bed (so I couldn't fall asleep) and fall asleep sitting up. But this is when I started meditating. Desperation isn't all bad.

3. I survived Brian's illness.
As soon as we were beginning to get settled in our new home, Brian became severely anemic. He was bleeding internally and did a lot of testing to find out why. It was a frightening process, especially before they ruled out blood cancers. We got through even though neither of us had any energy, largely because friends swooped in to help with yard work and meals.

4. I got help.
Desperation made me reach out and try (again) to find someone who could help me make a comeback health-wise. I've spent so much money and energy in this direction, often without a return, so this is like pulling teeth. Teeth that aren't loose. But you guys, I found a kinesthesiologist who's been able to help me! She tells me which supplements to take (specific to my body) so I can heal. I still can't believe she knows what's going on with me.

5. I faithed.
Faith is taking the damn supplements when nothing seems to be changing and it's never helped before, but you believe God wants you to be well. It's telling yourself it will be okay that you can't get to work on time or yoga at all and believing the sun will come out again. Faith is also when you have a blessed day in the middle. When you FEEL the belief taking hold of you and putting wind in your sails. You gasp your lungs full because the next day is sure to be hard, but with that glimpse of what's possible you can hang on by your faith fingernails.

6. I got healthier.
In October, I realized I had the energy to dream of the prayer meeting AND try doing it. I've been able to get to yoga three times a week for MONTHS. I'm back to how I felt before we had to move and I'm excited to keep healing.

7. We took a vacation.
With Brian's surgery looming, we took the vacation we'd planned on even though the money we'd saved for it had to go toward other things. I learned somewhere that spending more than you make is the cardinal sin, so this was not easy. But we drove to the ocean and played in the sea and saw friends and it healed us.

Those are the things I'm most proud of and looking back gives me great hope for the future. If you need a little gumption to take into 2019, maybe spend some time celebrating. And take the time to tell a friend. The best thing about any new year is we don't have to do it alone.

You triumphed over 2018.

And here is 2019, just waiting for us to create it.

I love you.

All the years.

Home Tour: Kitchen

2018-12-05T19:22:00.000-08:00

Our new kitchen got the most attention when it came to updates. Our goals were to add storage, update the lighting, install a back splash, lose the bead board, and install hardware. This kitchen offers much less storage than our previous one and the lighting was such that any food we worked on would be in shadow.

This custom open shelving offers a lot more storage than the single cabinet we had before. It's also a super convenient place to have our dishes since it's by the table and the dishwasher! For reference, here's how it looked before...

Lots of beadboard. I thought it would really compete pattern wise with the backsplash, besides the fact that I'm not a big bead board kinda girl. We couldn't just tear it off because it had some weird fuzzy stuff behind it, so we had our drywall guy skim it with mud and then the cabinet guy added trim pieces to make faux wainscoting. So. Much. Better.

As far as style changes, we added a back splash of square tiles in a brick-lay style. I love the simplicity of it and it's a variation on my go-to subway tile. We added hardware to the cabinetry and finding a brass knob I liked proved a challenge. I finally landed on this simple one from CB2.

The above shows the detail of the counter (which I wouldn't have picked because I'm a picky diva) but it is nice to have solid surface counter tops for the first time ever! Wiping straight into the sink is HEAVEN, people. Really. Also in this pic is the speaker I've waited my whole life for. (A handsome one that I don't have to hide behind things.) It was affordable too...not that I won't invest in a Crosley someday...

And below you can see the other side of our kitchen. That's our newly installed pantry on the left! It's amazing. If it weren't for this guy saving the day, we'd have no room for food in here. It used to be a coat closet that opened into the living room. We've never had a coat closet, so why start now?

An electrician added a light in the pantry, recessed lighting in the main area, and a light over the eating area. It makes such a difference since there had been just one light in the center of the room. I created the basket light from a Home Goods basket and a pendant kit from Michaels. So much cheaper than all the pretty ones I found ready-made! Since then, Ikea began offering this lovely option. We also removed the florescent shop light over the sink and installed a pretty light from Ikea. (No pics of that yet...)

Here's our handy centerpiece for the table. It's easy to remove at meal time because...it's on a tray. I love how things get shuffled around when you move. Items you used one way get featured elsewhere and take on new life! This succulent arrangement was in our guest room before. We added the gold spoons (at Target) and the hot cocoa pot.

The table was a hand-me-down and the chairs are from Ikea. They are surprisingly comfortable for their sleek look. Let me know if there's anything else you spy that you need details on!

We plan to one day have travel posters or artistic maps of the places we've gone as a family on trips. One thing we don't do a lot because of budget restrictions is travel, but the times we've gone have been absolutely amazing, so I want to celebrate them. Here's a postcard I found in Charleston this summer. Good times...

Home Tour: Living Room

2018-10-19T19:55:00.001-07:00

Guess what? I found a few minutes to snap photos of a couple rooms and with that I'm launching a home tour! Maybe I'll get some momentum going and you can finally see where we live. When you walk in the front door (shown above), the first room you see is the living room, so I thought I'd start there.

Here's how it looked when we bought it: giant ceiling fan, gray walls, and wood trim that made the new windows look out of place.

And here it is now:

For those who've seen our previous house, you know it was a bit fancier. When I knew we were downsizing, I thought a casual style would help us feel comfortable using all the spaces for all the things AND allow me to mix my favorites together in the same room. To soften it up, I added wood tones and baskets and a colorful, but worn looking rug. The rug was needed anyway, since the previous living room rug is now in our bedroom that doesn't have carpet.

We still use our trusty dresser entryway to hold our winter gear, kids' shoes, and the other things you want handy when you're walking out the door (sunscreen, umbrellas, etc.) The bowl holds my car keys and spare change.

If you're sick of your stuff, this little tour may be inspiration for you to shuffle yours around and get some new looks. Adding in a few new pieces like the key bowl above (clearance at Target) and the Ikea vase and thrifted vase make big changes without breaking the bank. Below you can see how I pulled art from three different rooms (at our old house) and grouped it here.

From the front door, you see the view below. That little bench catches a lot of in-coming and out-going items as well as providing a place for people to sit to take shoes off. I worried this guy was too small for the wall, but in my experience, small is better when it comes to benches. Even at the foot of the bed - they look great when they aren't even close to the width of the bed.

This piece of art got a new matte and frame which makes it look so different. I love how it looks on this wall. So simple. So good.

This living room is very dark at night and I hope to someday have a pair of sconces on either side of this artwork. And maybe a fig leaf tree where the floor lamp is? Sigh. The gorgeous art is from Jenny's Print Shop...where I happened to get ALL the new art for this house. Almost.

This was the first print I knew I had to have from Jenny's Print Shop. It makes me so happy.

The book cases are cheap, but we wrapped the backs with flax color fabric. It feels like the shiny backs with their obvious creases scream, Look at me?! I'm so cheeeaaap! This must be silenced and temporary wallpaper or fabric is way less frustrating than trying to paint them. Been there. Never again.

The windows really make this space. I have an ongoing love affair with windows (one of my favorite features of our last house). I'm just a sucker for sunshine and these let it in without needing thousands of dollars of work. This bench maximizes the seating and feels window seat like. I hope to have some blanket baskets tucked under it one day.

This time around, I tried organizing my books by color. It works well for me because I remember what color a book was, but my husband isn't sure about splitting up authors. I put his complete sets somewhere else. :)

This gold end table became more subtle with a wood table top I bought on Etsy. They sell several sizes, and I didn't have to do anything as far as finishing it. Easy? Yes, please.

And lastly, we added the coffee table. We were without one for a while and boy, is it nice to have a place to set your stuff!

Let me know if you have questions about anything. I'm a little out of practice!

What We've Been Up To

2018-09-07T20:35:00.002-07:00

Since it's been a hundred years since I've written, I'm going to give you a speed of light catch up thing. Synopsis? I don't know, but if you ever read Highlights magazine, you'll remember the stories where there were pictures that replaced words? I'm gonna go that route.

Super sophisticated.

Per usual.

We did make some of my dreamed of improvements before and after our move in. We added a pantry and a little more space to the tiny main floor bathroom. We also moved the sink and vanity from the main floor to the basement bathroom-to-be. Possibly my favorite change was this custom built cabinet that gives us SO MUCH more kitchen space.

When we moved our stuff in we found out we had a room full of things to get rid of in our summer garage sale. The downsizing is real, but it feels like we fit this home better than any we've had. There were also science fairs, recitals and a trip to Ikea...

...and at last, a new kitten.

His name if Phineas and he eats truckloads, talks incessantly and is fluffulicious. We're in love.

Shortly after, Brian became severely anemic and then there were a million tests. Then there were bed bugs that turned out to be bat bugs (yes, it's a thing), neither of which do you particularly want to discover in your new little house, but if one has to choose, go bat bugs every time. Overalls came back from the 90's so I went straight away and got a pair. Also our kids got baptized.

This would have been a highlight any time, but particularly in comparison to our war on bugs and we celebrated. The kids said it was so fun, they wished they could do it again.

During graduation time (Brian's busiest as a principal) our lease came due on our car. So we leased a new car with room for our kids' growing legs. I turned 38 and tried my hair a reddish color.

My younger sister moved to Florida, we built a temporary deck and Chandler went to summer camp for the first time. (I'm starting to feel this is the "dear diary" style of Christmas letter...) But the best, best part of this whole time, was our vacation. Not only did we need to get away from all the stress life threw our way, but it killed time while we waited to find out what Brian needed to do about his anemia. If you want to understand what a relief it was for all of us, just look at our faces when we reached the ocean:

Then we saw this (below) with our own eyeballs. (Magnolia Plantation, South Carolina)

We saw friends and celebrated the 4th and ate pizza in St. Louis.

When we got home it was time to clear out that room of stuff we'd decided we didn't need and had our annual garage sale. That wasn't enough work, so we decided it was time to add a shower to the basement bathroom, effectively exiling the entire family from my main floor bath. Well, except Phineas, who's become monstrous.

Brian had surgery a week ago to take care of some internal bleeding that caused his anemia. He's been a trooper through a painful, slow recovery. We hope this will get him back to his normal, energetic self.

So there you have it. Or an overview of it. Our new house is pretty darn cute and I'm excited to share it with you as I have time. All my fingers and toes are crossed that this will begin an era of quieter waters for us, so I can indeed write a bit from time to time.

We're Moving

2018-02-23T20:18:00.001-08:00

Can you believe it? We can hardly believe it either. We've been in this house for eight years and didn't plan to leave, but other expenses keep increasing and the amount we are willing to devote to a house payment has gone down.

My hope was to move into something smaller, without sacrificing quality (i.e. more future expenses) or neighborhood. While we're moving to the edge of the neighborhood and won't be in the CENTER of the country club, we're still in an area we love while getting a bit closer to both of our jobs.

It's been an ordeal finding a house, selling ours, and getting both houses fixed midwinter, but we're getting closer to being settled. One of the hardest parts about this transition has been not being able to get a new cat. After Leo died, I wanted to run out and get a kitten that day, but we knew we weren't in a place to do that. I've had some serious cat withdrawal and am looking forward to a new baby in our new house. In fact, we've already chosen a name. Phineas. I die...

Anyway! Here's a little tour of what our new house looked like when we bought it:

Living room

Kitchen

Office

Main Bath

Master Bedroom

Kids' Loft

Family Room

Laundry Area

So a lovely little mid-century house, born in 1947. Which seems very NEW to us, as our previous houses (all four) have been built in the 1920's. This house was flipped with integrity (not all are!) and we appreciate what they did. Of course, I have some ideas of my own about how it could be SO MUCH BETTER, and so we're doing what we can in that direction.

It's well under way and I hope to find time to update you on our progress. If it weren't so much WORK, I'd be telling you every little thing! On top of it all, I was sick for a week...packing boxes whilst coughing and blowing my nose. Eww. But I do want to share with you so I'll do my best.

Hope you're staying well and weathering whatever life throws your way (expected or otherwise). You may feel sad over this as you know how I loved my house on Lake Street, but I want you to know our family is processing and learning what is most important to our happiness: that we're together - wherever we find ourselves.

That's not a bad thing to know.

Good Medicine

2017-12-22T20:52:00.001-08:00

It was my dream since I was a girl to have a cat from kittenhood on and Leo was that dream come true.

When he got sick and we knew he wouldn't get better, I felt desperate. I stayed up, afraid to go to bed, just in case he wouldn't wake up in the morning. I cried and felt so much love in my bones, like they were humming with the pain of being alive and losing.

Then I told him he could go if it was too hard, but the next day he was still here because he knew I didn't mean it. I told him again, but still wasn't sure. Then I didn't say it because our relationship never needed words so he knew I was okay. I was finally able to take every snuggle and purr as a blessing. I felt thankful every day he decided to stay around.

Once my daughter asked me how I could keep my lovey, Bear-bear in a basket of sentimental things. That's when I realized Leo had become my lovey. He was something soft to hold, which helps me feel things will be okay. Sometimes I'd put my ear on his belly and close my eyes so everything would fade away except his purr.

Leo died Monday and I barely made it to yoga Thursday. I decided to flow (or practice) in gratitude for him. When I'd feel the strength of my breath, I'd think how strongly I'd loved him. When it felt good, I'd remember how special it felt when he'd let me know he loved me back. When I lay in savasana, I suddenly knew what else he was to me. He was good medicine.

All of this, my friends, is good medicine. My fatigue. My family's struggles. Our next kitten. Missing Leo. Some medicine tastes good and some tastes terrible, but all of it's healing me.

As I lay with my eyes closed, I saw Leo in a long line of medicine from the Father of lights. I felt held and nursed, because God knows, we all need nursed. I felt trust too. Some of this will hurt, this getting better, but I won't fight her. I'll swallow what life brings and trust that it too, is good medicine.

To Everyone With a Me Too Story:

2017-10-22T10:46:00.000-07:00

(told or untold)

I've been reading your stories and realized I am what some of you thought of when you differentiated yourself from a "real victim." Some of you were never touched. Some of you were unconscious or drunk or half asleep. Some of you didn't know the person who did it. And for those reasons and many others, you felt less legit. You felt ridiculous because someone else's suffering towered over yours.

Someone like me. I'm not saying my experience was the worst, but I think measuring sticks for suffering are bogus. Anyway, I was awake and I was tiny and it was my father. My story is one people don't want to hear. It's just too much, if there were a scale for such things. I couldn't tell much of it anyway because my mind decided it was impossible to live with and repressed the memories after I told my mom. If it wasn't for an exam that documented scarring, I don't know when I would've been wise enough to believe it.

And what I want to say to you is, your hurt sounds SO LIKE mine. I don't feel a space between us. It doesn't matter if there was or wasn't penetration. They crashed through your edges as if you were their property and now you struggle to feel safe and autonomous and at home in your body. That's the same, friends. That's the same freakin' thing.

Which is why I love this quote:

This is a jewel of truth we forgot when we were treated like a cubby-hole for penises. Some of us have found it again and that gives the rest of us hope it can be found. I'm still finding it.

I'm still finding lots of things, but for the sake of sistering, here's what I've learned.

If I could speak to my former self or someone who's just beginning to address this pain, I would say, "Go ahead, lovie. The darkness won't crush you. I'm calling to you from the place where light lives and one day you'll bask in sunshine much brighter and warmer than you've ever felt."

I know you're split open, but your soul is held safe. By any higher power you admit to, the pure, carefree version of you is not lost. I believe it's held safe somewhere in the cosmos beyond this earth so nothing evil can touch it. I know it's gone and you can't reach it now, but that healing people talk about? It's when you're reunited with yourself.

This will take time. I'm sorry to tell you this part, but I don't want you to feel you're doing it wrong when you can't bounce back. Anyone who tells you to suck it up or pull yourself up by your bootstraps can stay the hell away from you for a few years. Find the people who know the truth about this pain and listen to them. They will teach you how to become your own hero, someone who's in this with you no matter how long it takes.

Can I tell you something else? Sometimes the deepest shame is about what we did as a result of assault. As a girl, I trotted to my neighbor's house and showed their kids some things I'd learned. In counseling as a grown up, I could hardly bare to write about it in my workbook. I figured what my dad did was his fault (and wasn't even sure of that), but what I did because of it was surely my responsibility. Well, this is another thing you'll need to sort, but when you do, it will feel like you've cut loose a bag of bricks.

No matter how minor you've considered your experience, it sent the message, You're not safe. This message can settle in our bones. That's what trauma does and we have to relearn a sense of safety. You'll have to show your sweet self, "You are safe," and she won't get it right away and so you'll show her again.

The best gift you'll find on this road is a friend in yourself. This seems impossible if you're still hating yourself for being there and not being strong enough to save yourself. I blamed and punished myself for fourteen years before I took a second look at what happened and I've only recently begun to accept my vulnerability.

Most importantly, healing will come.

Not all at once, but it will come.

And a part of mine has come from knowing I'm not alone.

Me too.

P.S. There's a little more about my experience over here.

Fall Touches: Inside

2017-10-16T18:41:00.001-07:00

How do you make fall happen in a house that's mostly pink, turquoise, grey and gold? I wasn't sure myself, so for the last few years, I just put a white porcelain pumpkin out, lit some candles and called it good.

But then I saw the perfect pillow and it all became easier. See?

In fall, I want all the baskets and blankets and plaids. So with that lovely pillow pulling in oranges and smoky blues and the mustard throw, I was set!

I also love salt rock lamps but didn't know how to incorporate them into my house. I found a set of two votive holders and love watching it glow on chilly nights. I'm still loving my fake flowers, even though one of them's gotten a little sooty!

I pulled the blanket basket from another room and love being able to stuff a blanket in there rather than folding it to look tidy over the back of a chair! So easy.

The other touch of fall we have is a bowl of candy corn in the kitchen. It's a tradition and it's usually gone in a couple days, but there it is.

Hope you're enjoying all the beauty of the season!

Fall Touches: Outside

2017-10-10T20:10:00.000-07:00

Beauty is healing and so is inspiration. So when you struggle to justify buying pumpkins that will rot and you don't even know how to cook their insides (me), remember the blessing they are TO YOUR SOUL. Sometimes it's worth it. :)

Do you remember when I painted that doormat way back when? I ended up buying a better quality one and using the same process. I'm glad I did because it's still going strong! Easiest project ever too. The navy and white napkins were from the dollar section at Target, as was the little orange candle holder. I love to have a candle-lit porch - especially on Halloween night when so many kids come to our door. I'm not on the scary wagon, so I like to offer a warm, inviting but festive porch.

I've collected old lanterns over the years and put tea lights inside them as well as the mason jars. It gets very twinkly!

As you can see in the photo above, we need to paint. We've needed to since we bought this house eight years ago. And of course, I have a dreamy (different) color scheme for the exterior. But alas, years pass and it's SUCH a big job. We've not found the time or money, BUT I can still enjoy my porch as it is, right now. #downwithperfectionism

I splurged for Australian Blue pumpkins and white pumpkins because I've heard they don't attract squirrels. The squirrels in our neighborhood come on our porch and demolish any pumpkins we have, which makes such a mess I didn't plan to buy any this year. We'll see how this goes...

So there's the outdoor decor! I'll be posting how I finally managed to bring some fall touches to my interior soon.

Decision Making for the Perfectionist

2017-10-05T17:20:00.000-07:00

I've been in a pickle lately because I can't make good enough decisions. When options arise and I have to make a choice, I seriously want to check out. There's been a negative cloud around every decision, saying things like:

You don't have enough information to make the right decision.

You have conflicting information and who do you believe?

Your instincts may not take you where you ultimately want to be.

Is that your instinct or your rebel side?

You've made what you thought were right decisions before, and you're still not where you'd hoped.

Do you actually think it's working?

Even if you get four out of five goals accomplished with one decision, the one you missed is crucial.

You can't relax/enjoy your life unless you find the perfect route through this day.

All of this dooms me and I have sludged through life lately, never feeling free to be happy.

Wow.

When I said I was a recovering perfectionist, I wasn't lying.

I CAN'T BE HAPPY UNLESS ONE DECISION MEETS/SUPPORTS ALL MY LIFE GOALS????

What the what.

So guess what woke me up?

Making a super hard decision not to go to the Boundary waters with my family and father-in-law this weekend. I had no peace when I planned to go and none when I planned to stay. I just had to make the call based on what I know of me and my health right now. How long would I pay for sleepless nights? Would the therapy of being in nature outweigh the tension from being cold? Would I feel so sad and lonely at home, knowing I was missing this experience with my people?

When I felt sure I'd be better off at home, a part of me would say, What if it went perfectly? What if the weather wasn't rainy and you didn't injure yourself (actually a concern, but won't take time to explain) and what if it was magical?

It was torture. When I told the kids I wasn't going, I cried. Then I felt the need to do a big project to justify staying home. Then I told myself that could wear me out too. Then I felt like throwing caution to the wind and going. I told my chiropractor and she said, "Those are hard decisions. You've worked really hard to feel as good as you do and you don't want to throw it all away in a weekend."

The most important part was hearing someone affirm this isn't a simple/easy decision. That made it okay to not like things about either option. It helped me accept that neither was ideal and stop telling myself I had to force whatever I chose to be magical. I also don't have to point to five hundred things as it's playing out to justify my decision. Or condemn it.

The best thing I can do for me is decide I'm not going to stress about right or wrong, better or best.

Because sometimes there's a way that's clearly better and sometimes there isn't. And when there isn't, we roll the dice. Like it or not, there's so many unknowns, we have to sometimes. And the only time that's detrimental is when we tie ourselves in knots trying to concoct a perfect solution and then pick apart the outcome under the guise of "trying to learn from it." That whole process, repeated over and over all day long, feels like it's taking life out of me, one drop at a time.

So I asked the kids and Brian to write me a letter. I'll read one each day I won't see them at all. I invited girlfriends to go to a movie with me Sunday, since that'll be my longest day alone. I plan to run errands, but don't know if I'll get them all done or if I'll paint the back steps. I'm planning to unplug Friday, Saturday and Sunday to get some of the benefits of being off the grid.

They left today. I started making decisions and when I wanted to critique my first plan, I just shut it down. It's good enough, I said. Good enough.

Self, I Will Love You

2017-09-08T19:48:00.000-07:00

Oh, my friends. I was afraid to tell you how good I was feeling after my anointing because life is messy and full of set backs and not as clear in improvement as the before and after photos I post of my house.

Not at all.

I long to be living in a pretty after shot.

But I recently got a news flash from a book called How to Be an Adult in Relationships, by David Richo. Life has phases, much like weather patterns and in reality (verses fantasy), those phases are healthy and good - even the ones that feel like I do now.

I've been exhausted lately. I can point out reasons why that may be, but it's discouraging no matter how I explain it. Just when I thought I was on the cusp of something much brighter with a lot more energy, I'm back to working on making that possible. It feels like hacking away at things that cage me and sometimes getting my head out to breathe real life, like that first crisp fall breeze pushing out the heat. When I get a whiff, I go a little crazy, blessing everything I see. My mental persona's always on the verge of a jig and my heart is easily warmed. It's heady stuff.

Then it goes away and there's nothing I can do to hold it. They say the ego is grasping and only the immature heart doesn't understand it's not good to freeze things the way they are. Do you realize the romance stage is actually a time when our adrenaline is high and if we COULD make it last, it would do our bodies harm? It also happens to be the time when we're unaware of each other's flaws, so unconditional love isn't possible. Much better for a relationship to go through the natural cycle of romance, conflict, and commitment.

I've experienced this in marriage and even achieved some level of security with it. I don't believe everything is shot to hell if we have an intense face-off. I believe in our commitment that circles us around and closer to each other, if we can find a way. I know we always both want it, even when we don't know the way and that helps me weather those times with more grace.

However, I'm new to being in a loving relationship with my self and there's been cruelty that causes me to feel like the bridge back to harmony with myself is freakin' rickety.

Because it is.

Tonight, I'm looking out over that bridge. On the other side is a sweet lady who keeps putting on the pounds and I'm not sure what to think of her. Embracing her hasn't caused the weight to "just fall off" (my secret hope). I've been trying to trust my body to let the weight go when it was ready, but seriously...my faith isn't this big. Yet.

Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe she's waiting to see if I can do this; love her either way.

We're both scared I can't. I throw fits regularly, stomping from my side of the bridge, wishing she would get her act together. I keep refusing to put her on a diet and punish her with work outs or shame her for what she eats for fun, but I still do it sometimes. For a while I justified her size because she had more energy, which wasn't real love either, but it gave me a break from trying to love for no reason at all.

My unconditional love muscles are apparently atrophied from long misuse, but I still believe in them. I know they're there. I was created with them and I'm determined to give them a chance to come back to life.

So here's to the daily confusion, not knowing what to say to my self that would be loving and healing. Not sure how to act around myself. Feeling awkward and staring into those dark brown eyes that need love so badly, and feeling like I don't have it to give.

I will find it, by God's grace.

I promise.

I will make my way to you and embrace you exactly the way you are today.

I actually love you a little bit already.

P.S. If you want to see what kind of bridge I'm picturing, go here.

Handling the Unknowns

2017-08-30T15:22:00.002-07:00

Confused is a word I've used to describe myself so many times, I can't even count. There are pluses and minuses to literally everything and sometimes I'd give anything for a little thing called certainty. Here are some questions I've been pondering for years.

How do I get from seeing fat in the mirror to loving my body unconditionally?

How do we give our kids/spouses/friends the five A's (attention, appreciation, acceptance, allowing and affection) when it takes a calm heart to give those and a busy heart is a distracted heart?

How do we navigate requests with integrity when we know something is not a priority to us, but it seems hurtful to say so?

What do I do with the strong feelings that there's a formula that would create a healthy me and all I do is wonder what it is and feel sure I'd fall short even if I knew?

How do we reconcile our people's need for us with our need to be alone?

How do we make room for our spirituality when we will appear rude, not a team player, etc?

Believing I can do life better and healthier than I've ever done it gives me hope. I don't have to stay here. Light is coming. Truth will set me free. Jesus isn't scared of any of my dark corners and he's the ultimate shit sorter.

My method for finding a better life has been learn a lot of stuff and try to do it. My generation's all about intentional choices. We don't just go with expectations and check all the boxes. We think and ponder and learn and decide. What do WE want? What will be meaningful for us? We've watched generations who assumed meaning and connection would be there if they went through the motions of life and realized it's not a given. It takes work.

And that's kind of true. It is work to learn to say no so you have time with your people. It's work to let go of trying to please everyone and do what's true and right for you. It's work to unearth the prejudices you hold over yourself and others.

I think it's great we don't expect meaning to just happen, but all our work can't force it. It's a gift. And my learning and STRESSING ABOUT APPLYING IT gets in the way of the gift.

Which is where spirituality comes to the rescue. I regularly see it's too much for me - that creating this life I've dreamed up is too hard. I call on strength and wisdom and goodness that surpasses my own.

And while it's not a formula that stacks up neatly with answers to all our questions, we can go back to truth and not be too proud to let it sustain us. (Which requires NOT inwardly saying, I will continue to freak out until I get answers.)

I will choose my people over my hectic, just for today.

I will try again when I screw up, just for today.

I am blessed and loved which is proved by my existing today.

I don't carry my people. My job is to bless them, just for today.

I can hold onto my dreams, just for today.

I can hold onto my dreams when I have no freakin' idea how to make them happen, just for today.

I can rest in the presence of the Knower of all my unknowns, even if she doesn't tell me all the secrets.

I can trust. Every time I'm stressed, I can choose to trust.

You notice I say "just for today" a lot. A yoga teacher introduced that little phrase as a way to take life in bite-sizes we can handle without panicking. It aligned with what Jesus said about each day having enough worries of its own. I may not know how to make decisions that support real connection for all the days, but knowing what to do right now is enough.

So back to certainty or clarity. If you find yourself lusting after these like I do, we have to remember we don't actually NEED to know the things we don't know. If we did, we'd have those answers. What we NEED to know, what we need to be clear on, is those statements of truth. I'd rather know I'm loved than what foods cause inflammation in my body. I'd rather know I have forever tries than how my kid's friend drama will play out. I'd rather know Jesus is all over that situation than know I handled it perfectly.

So be clear about this.

You are doing just fine.

God is proud of you.

You are not falling short because you don't have all the answers.

We're baby birds hopping around, trying to learn to fly and he thinks we're wonderful.

Right now.

That's all I really need to know.

I'm Well

2017-07-23T16:18:00.002-07:00

About fifteen years ago, I learned that when someone asks how you are, it's not proper to say, "I'm good." It should be, "I'm well." A lot of people don't care about these things, but I thought, Hmm...I'd like to say that right. But habits are habits and I could never remember.

Some of you have been hearing about my struggle with fatigue since I learned a name for it and shared it way back here. After trying the current fads and typical adrenal fatigue treatment (and getting worse), I began eating a healing diet last spring. I believed it would give my body the best chance at solving its' own problems, since medicine didn't seem to have the answers.

It helped me lose my excess weight, but I didn't experience more energy. I added EMDR therapy to help me sort things on the emotional end and made some great strides. I figured, in time, the two would create a magical synergy and I'd find myself feeling better. I did experience more energy right before Christmas, possibly the joy of the season and being engrossed in preparation for it, but when it was over, my energy plummeted. I felt more tired than I had in a long time and outside stresses took a toll. I gained the weight back, even though I was still eating the healing diet.

I felt angry and fatalistic. Eating such a restricted diet for a year had been hard. How would I ever gain momentum when things I can't control come and trample all my progress? I started asking God what to do next, and didn't hear anything. Then we read James in Bible study.

I wondered, "Why haven't I done this?" and proceeded to listened to stories of people who had. Some were healed immediately and some found healing later. It was interesting, but I didn't resolve to do it.

During times when I feel lost, I sometimes let songs be my prayers. Artists find words when I can't, so one day at work, I picked a worship playlist on Spotify to listen to. I had low expectations since I'm not a fan of Christian radio. I like things a little more soulful and earthy, so I expected to enjoy maybe every sixth song. But each song was a surprise. I found myself saving song after song to a playlist of my own, which became the soundtrack of my life. I listened constantly and began noticing themes the songs shared:

The immense power of God - of his name
Her miracle-working ability
It is well with my soul
I will trust him - even if he doesn't fix this

That's when I realized God was my DJ that day. She picked those songs to nourish me and through each word, funneled faith into my heart. As I'd listen, I felt sure of those truths. I'd sing as loud as I could in the car because I wanted the universe to hear (and maybe the deepest parts of my soul too) that I'd love God no matter what happened. The faith I've wished for and prayed for filled me up and I had NO REASON to feel that way. I still had no idea how to help my body. I still had no money to spend on further treatment. I was at a dead end and I was bursting with hope.

I told my pastor about it and he said, "That's why they call it the peace that passes understanding."

One morning I was showering and listening to my playlist. I started imagining who I'd want there if I were anointed. I pictured where I'd want to be and who would pray. I started crying when I thought of all the people who love me and would probably drop everything to come pray over me. I remembered my mom was anointed when I was a kid. Absorbed in my thoughts, I felt God say, "I want to do this FOR you."

So I marched myself into the church and asked to be anointed. It was easy because for once I knew what the next right thing was. It was hard because I'd been ashamed of my mom when she'd been anointed and asking for help still didn't FEEL strong. Mom had complications after a surgery and doctors said the only solution was another surgery. She'd been in a robe when the elders came over and I was in junior high, so obviously, this was mortifying. I was so embarrassed I had either missed the fact or forgotten that she was healed instantly. No surgery needed.

Well I was anointed with my family around me, my mom, my in-laws, and a few of the precious friends who've walked with me through this struggle. They prayed over me and cried over me and put oil on my forehead. I wanted any healing Jesus had for me and didn't doubt some healing would come, whether it was freedom from guilt over napping or crazy amounts of energy. I just wanted him to touch me.

The next day my inner voice drove me crazy asking, "How are you feeling now? How 'bout now?" All. Day. And I got scared. What if she didn't show up? That's the part about putting yourself out there in all your raw need. You know how devastating it will be if God doesn't come through.

I've learned that sitting outside is therapy in itself, so I sat on my patio and prayed. Well, I held my aching heart up to God, but there weren't a lot of words. Then I looked up at the trees and saw two squirrels chasing each other through the branches. One of them was my black squirrel. (That's another story, but black squirrels remind me that Jesus loves me and in this difficult time, one seemed to have moved into our yard.) I watched him a long time and felt my soul quiet. It would be okay. God would always show up for me.

And he has. For a while, I felt wide awake when I woke in the morning and could take or leave my usual nap. If I chose to take my normal (90 minute) nap, I'd be unable to sleep when I went to bed. I felt inspired and did projects I've wanted to do for years. My energy isn't quite so high or erratic now; it's more steady and I'm able to do a day without a nap and not be a zombie all evening. There's just more there. It's amazing.

During the anointing, my husband said, "If this journey is like rowing across a lake, you've been rowing hard. I think it will feel different if you put the oars down and just ride." That's exactly what it was about and it's not easy. I reach for the oars every day, wanting that feeling of being in charge and taking myself somewhere. But I don't.

And remarkably, after fifteen years of wanting to remember to say, "I'm well," instead of, "I'm good," I've been remembering ever since the anointing. Maybe it's because it's finally true. I'm well. Not fully healed, not fatigue-is-only-a-memory, but I'm definitely well in places I've never been before.

God showed up.

In all her power and love.

So I'm well.

Guest Room Reveal

2017-07-13T17:40:00.000-07:00

I've very slowly been working towards a new look for our guest room. The whole room was originally inspired by that spruce green lamp in the corner, but I paired it with brighter colors. It felt a little off to me, but it took me a while to think of a better color combo. Then one day, I pulled things I'd had in the family room way back when, and found some new peach items (especially art) from thrift stores. Remember when peach was in years ago?

This bench was a project that held me up for a long time. It was a 70's dark wood veneer coffee table and I never had enough energy to take it on. It would make a great bench guests could put suitcases on or just sit on to tie shoes. Adding a cushion is very similar to recovering a chair seat, which I've done quite a bit. So when I had extra energy this spring, I spray painted the base and bought green foam from Joanns. I covered the foam with a layer of batting and a remnant of fabric.

Here you can see the fabric a little better. It's wise to choose a heavier fabric, but not too stiff, as that will make the corners difficult. This one is a nice middle ground and while it seems durable, it feels soft. I went for REALLY soft when I did the one for my bedroom in baby blanket material. The green pillow was made from a two-sided place mat. I seem-ripped the bottom edge, added stuffing and antique buttons, and sewed it back up. The buttons are blush pink, but that's perfect because I don't want everything to match. A room that matches TOO well feels forced. Another way to keep it from looking too stiff (if you don't actually want to throw different colors in) is using multiple shades of your colors. Don't be the person who takes a paint swatch and matches everything to it, unless you want your room to look like a page from a JCPenney catalog! I was thrilled to find the second pillow because it has so much personality and anchors the boho feel.

These baskets got the same spray paint as the bench. We put an extra blanket in one and guest towels and toilet paper in the other. I make sure toilet paper is in plain sight to prevent any stress on the part of guests. Or the embarrassment of asking. ;-\

Part of the reason it took so long to put this room together is it takes me forever to find funds for bedding, even from Target's kid section. The grey comforter and cacti sheets came from there and the bedspread at the foot of the bed was thrifted.

This old desk was free on the curb and though not all it's drawers work, it gives guests a comfortable place to put a laptop and work. I keep art supplies in the drawers that do work, since this is where I'll paint, if I ever do a large project.

The opposite side of the bed looks like this, with my easel and canvases. Those two coral bowls are an example of how another shade looks great in a room where peach is the main color. This is the only mirror in our guest room, so I'm on the hunt for a full-length one. Guests have to come to the dining room to see how their outfits look...

These are fake succulents. Since I don't go in this room much, it's not safe to have anything living in here. I found this spruce bowl at a thrift store and filled it with beans.

This is my favorite art in this room. There's so much I love from the art deco era, including our house and this lady. Below is a favorite postcard from our family in northern California.

I struggle to photograph art without a glare, but wanted you to see what pretty things area available second hand in the art department. I love the botanical print above, mixed with the other pieces on that wall. And to fill the wall opposite the bed, we used our house's original attic windows.

So there's our guest room! A door knob and a mirror away from being completely done, but I love having a little boho retreat to offer our guests. What features make you comfortable in a guest room? I'd love to hear!

When Guilt Gets Too Heavy

2017-06-11T20:26:00.001-07:00

Guilt has been heavy in my life. At the best, it's because I'm an idealist with an ideal way to handle every situation, but can't always make it happen. I believe wastefulness is passive violence, denying the truth that others don't have what they need. I'm aware fresh water makes up less than 1% of the earth's water, so even though water's cheap where I live, I don't like to use more than I need. I've got strong opinions about parenting, religion, effective management...the list goes on, creating high standards everywhere I turn.

At worst, it was because I believed God was moping around until I decided to spend some time with him. More recently, I think she's less than pleased when I'm trucking down a perilous path or even if I'm just listless because I don't know which direction is right.

In other words, there has been a right way and a wrong way to do EVERYTHING.

Which made me crazy.

Which made me a failure.

Which made balance impossible. Because, if it's always right to show up to a fast food place with reusable cups, how do I treat myself kindly when I don't have them? If it's always right to get to yoga as often as possible, what do I do when my body says, "No."

Guilt.

There's been a lot of that.

Other common names are perfectionism, legalism, falling short, self-condemnation.

Well I'm sick of it. If there's a peace that passes understanding, I need to get in that line. Because there is NO PEACE when you obsess over what's right or best all the freaking time.

Here's a real thing. I wrestle every day with whether I will make it to yoga or not. Some days I know from the get-go it won't happen, but I can't admit that to myself, so I bounce back and forth about it in my head ALL DAY LONG until every class is over. I weigh pros and cons. I ask myself what will I be happier about after the fact. Will I wish I'd gone? Will I be okay with it? How the hell do I know?! What do I look like? A mind reader? No. Apparently, I can't even read my own future mind. And that is a failure on my part too. Just add it to the list.

I wrestle every day with what I eat. Will this Dr. Pepper make me a hunch-backed old lady? I've always believed in good foods and bad foods and I could feel good about myself only when I was eating the former. But if you do any reading or get any advice from anyone, you'll no longer be sure ANY food produced in the US is good (except organic veggies) and what are you left with? Guilt. Because...who eats only veggies.

I wrestle with how much we spend. My therapist said, "I hate to tell you this, but you don't have a healthy relationship with money." It's true. I've thought spending more than you make was pure evil. Being in debt, especially credit card debt, was a sign you did something terribly wrong somewhere along the way. This became a new guilt-either-way game for me because my healthcare costs more than we make, but shy of becoming a martyr and not taking care of myself...well, I feel guilty about that too.

So you see, this is madness.

I've known it was madness a long time and I've known it was making me miserable, but what I didn't know what was throwing me off.

Apparently I've been moralizing. Marc David talks about moralizing food in The Slow Down Diet, "Food is morally neutral. So is every other object in the universe. Is a baseball bat good or bad? It depends on how you use it. It can be used to hit a home run and make thousands of fans deliriously happy or it can be a tool of destruction, used to smash someone's car window and ruin her day."

This is why there are variables. This is why the right answer isn't always the same. This is why my strict rules paralyze me - I can't decide anything without breaking one. Decisions can feel like the WORST THING EVER, when really, my freedom to choose is a blessing. I've been painting a color picture in black and white and acting like it was so simple.

I know where that comes from. It's a scarred little human hoping if she does everything right, she'll never find herself alone. Or destroyed, with no song to sing and no one to enjoy it.

But I believe the stage I live on is lovingkindness. I will never step out of the spotlight that is God watching me and delighting in me. He thinks it's cute when I tie my freakin' shoes. He's made my guilt (real or imagined) a non issue, so we can be together forever.

And since that's the case, I can stop judging every move I make on a moral measuring stick. I can journey and experiment and try things with curiosity to SEE IF they are right for me this time or not. And if not? NO BIG. I'm learning, questioning and discovering. And that's exactly where I'm supposed to be.

At yoga or not.

In debt or not.

Eating veggies or not.

No guilt.

Just free.

Obsessed With Speed

2017-04-12T19:37:00.001-07:00

This is the third of my trifecta.

If I were writing a comic strip, I'd say something like, "The Invincible Ones are skinny, strong, and fast." Or maybe swift, for alliteration's sake. Definitely not speedy, because it sounds road-runnerish. Beep, beep.

Not impressive.

So, to be impressive, I work hard to be these things. Yes, there are others, but these are pretty painful right now. I may have gone on, blind to the third, except I recently experimented with eating slowly. As a kid, I did this naturally. It's one of those gifts grown-ups think are a curse. When I became a mom, I finally found the ability to eat at the speed of light and I've never stopped.

But eating slowly gives your body a chance to absorb nutrients from food, which my fatigue suggest would be useful. I'm also hopeful it will also help me turn my experience of food inside-out. So during a meal, I told the rushing voices, "No, this is important. I'm going to take my time and there's nothing you can say about it."

After a slow breakfast, I was driving to work and the pushy voice said, You're stopped at a light! Grab your phone and check your email! Normally, I'd probably say, "Brilliant! I'm so efficient. Look at me go!" But this morning's breakfast woke me up to having options and I told that pushy voice, "No."

I felt pretty saucy about it too.

The voice started blathering about getting behind and what people would think...

I said it could shove it.

In all these years, I've prided myself on being efficient. God's actually asked for my Rush and I've told him to shove it. Not in so many words, but with my actions. "I like being this way," I told myself. "I like going fast." And that's partly true. I like to go fast when I'm inspired, but that's because I'm in the flow and it comes from excitement about what's happening. It feels nothing like the Rush. Rush is pushy.

I had a moment of clarity during this little exchange. I realized the voice rushing me isn't a neutral, if-it's-best-for-you kind of voice. It's a my-way-or-the-highway voice. It's the jerky boss. The impossible coach. And I've been hustling to impress him far too long.

He gets me all hyped up sometimes, telling me everything is riding on this one afternoon. He can get me low, berating me for how I blew it and all that that means. He's never pleased with anything and never gives me time to celebrate when I manage to do something well. He just pushes me on to the next thing. When things flop, he doesn't care how hard I tried. It counts for nothing. I count for nothing. I'm always trying to make the cut with him and know I never will.

Well, not anymore.

I see you, mean coach.

I'm done hustling and going crazy for you.

I'm out.

Who knows what that looks like - I'm just glad I finally know that behind your "Go, go, go!" was a "You're not enough!" Because every time I tried for you, I unwittingly agreed with your premise. I taught myself, little by little, that it was true.

But it's not. I am enough. I'll go when I go and I'll stop when I stop and none of it will have anything to do with whether I'm enough.

My soul is free and I will untether myself from you as many times as it takes.

Good-bye, Rush.

I'm Also Obsessed with Strength

2017-04-06T18:04:00.000-07:00

Some people are saying strong is the new skinny. Well, crap. That just happens to be my other obsession.

As long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be tough. I didn't cry easily as a girl and believed there was virtue in suffering silently. I hoped pretending my skin was thick would make it so, and everything would hurt less. If I got strong enough, I'd be safe.

I equated strength with muscle. I chose the hardest workouts and felt proud when I finished them. If I went to gentler classes, I'd wimped out. I wanted to feel good about myself and the only time I felt good about myself was when I was being strong. I also felt weak when I opted for a c-section delivery. A real woman would push two babies out! When I met a woman who'd delivered twins vaginally, I felt a pang. See? She did it. I could've too, if I'd just been brave enough to try. The stupid thing is, I developed HELP syndrome and couldn't have delivered vaginally, even if I'd planned to. But logic doesn't help you feel better when you're afraid, does it?

Childhood trauma taught me, You're never safe because the people you need most will hurt you on purpose. Unless...

Unless you're stronger than them. And the fantasy was born.

A couple weeks ago my yoga teacher said, "You know it takes strength to be soft, right?"

Yeah, yeah. I see it on other people. The strongest let you see how they feel, pushing past stigma to be honest and real, even when it means crumbling. But when it's my turn to crumble, I look for another way. A stoic, tidy way - those are my favorite. Crying til I need to blow my nose has got to be my least favorite.

But that happened with two sweet yoga teachers. It didn't feel okay at all. I felt apologetic for the chaos I was feeling. While I hugged one teacher, the other teacher whispered, "This is strong."

And do you know what that felt like?

Trauma was like choosing between standing in a fire or submerging myself in a pool of water. Obviously, I dove for cover. It's not safe up there, I will stay here. Everything was muffled and blurry, but I couldn't stand being up there, fully alive in the face of so much pain.

It seems nothing short of miraculous to come out of the water after so many years. But to come out of the water and find I'm safe??

I have no words.

...

Well, maybe just a few:

I'd really like to be a bad ass, but even more, I want to be alive and realize I'm loved and safe.

Dear Skinny-Obsessed Me,

2017-03-23T21:28:00.000-07:00

I know I've ignored you, wishing you'd eventually give up and leave. I've also blamed you and fought you, but today I want you to know, I finally understand.

I understand you grew up in the 80s when women were celebrated if they were skinny, tall and had legs for miles. Virginia Slims had the goal right in their name. Worse than that was hearing some of your favorite, most important people boil someone down to their weight. They judged it and insinuated things your little soul couldn't grasp, but you knew from their tone, it was bad. While you remember only a few of these comments, there were probably a hundred more you took to heart.

All this created a web of beliefs that are amazingly strong. Fat people are out of control. They can't get their shit together. They're lazy. They've given up. They can't find happiness. They aren't attractive. They won't stay in love. They won't enjoy being respected by others. On the flip side, if you're skinny, the world is your oyster. All good things will come, including respect and belonging, admiration and love.

I know you've seen exceptions - people who happen to be big living rich, happy lives. Over time, you've decided this is possible for some people, but you understand you're not one of them. You start in a deficit. You aren't on an equal playing field and for you, the only way to get there, is to be skinny. If you want a chance at love and a happy life, square one is being skinny. It's not life or death, but if it's happy life or hopeless life, the desperation feels about the same.

So you hustle and try and feel guilty about unhealthy food choices and proud of healthy ones (when you know which are which). You feel good on days when you work out hard and bad on days when you don't or work out with less intensity. You feel angry when diet and exercise don't equal lost pounds and crazy when your weight goes up randomly. You feel disgusted when you see photographic evidence of the "extra."

But then there are the wondrous days when the weight decides to come off. Seeing my smaller reflection in the mirror feels like you were handed a golden ticket. Today will be great, I think. I can hardly go wrong. After all, I'm so small. And you see the problem. There's no end to wanting to see a smaller reflection. You get it. That's dangerous. But it feels like heaven.

So recently, when I gave myself breaks from my healing diet, you hoped it would be okay. But it wasn't, was it? The weight came and you felt desperate. You panicked, thinking the disciplinarian needed to come back out to get us on track. I understand. You thought everything - literally everything hung in the balance.

But it doesn't. I know why you thought that. I do. But...

Amazing, beautiful things happen in this world. Things beyond what we look like and it's what matters: love and wonder and life. All this greatness is happening and we are part of it simply because we were born. We can't demote ourselves and we can't disqualify ourselves no matter how much weight we gain. I am here and my whole purpose is to interact with the Divine and be part of all this greatness.

So sweet little part of me, who is skinny-obsessed. I love you for trying to make me better and protect me from a terrible existence. But I want you to know we're going a different direction now. There will never again be a day, when we have no choice but to get the disciplinarian out or say mean things to our self or believe all the painful lies we've been told about what being fat means. There will never be a day when punishment by salad or boot camp will be the answer. We will walk in love and acceptance and let our body, our one precious body, know it's okay.

We love it big.

We love it small.

We love it.

How big will it get in the process? I don't know and it scares me too, but we are still going this way. If we find ourselves in a clearing that's skinny, but it's not love or acceptance, we will turn tale and run.

And we won't stop til we're home.

Main Bathroom After

2017-03-16T16:14:00.001-07:00

So here's what our bathroom looks like now. I apologize for the photo quality, as it's a very small room and tricky to photograph for an amateur like me. I'm making up for it in quantity, so get ready...

We kept the vanity, faucet, toilet and tub. It was really the walls and floors we changed. The gray is the same because I love it so...but added the surprise of a pink ceiling.

We had hoped to remodel this bathroom three summers before it was actually a possibility, so I had lots of time to acquire the perfect accessories. The piece of art below, came from the decor consignment shop where I used to work. The towels and towel hooks came from World Market. They no longer have the hooks or towels, but I highly recommend them as a towel option that has the beauty of Anthropologie towels without being so pricey. In fact, I'd love to have a set of these to switch out from time to time! You can see all their pretty towels here.

These lights are my favorite. They were second hand as well, and offered the brass I craved, but they were just naked candles. I found frosted cylinders to make them a little more modern and now their light is nicely diffused. The link is not to the site where I got mine, but they came broken three times because of poor packing.

This toilet paper holder was from CB2 and while they don't have the exact one available they have this one that's wonderful. I love the touches of brass, but also love that I didn't have to replace everything. My faucet is still brushed nickel and it looks great. So if you're in love with the brass trend, but nervous about making a total switch (or can't afford to), try some pieces mixed in. The mix of metals can give you a relaxed vibe. The overall effect is more organic and less perfect, which I love.

I found this mirror second hand as well! I love having a mirror tall enough that Brian and I can see in it at the same time! Our medicine cabinet mirror had been too small to share. It also doesn't cast shadows like the medicine cabinet one did.

Here's how Brian put tile around our shower, eliminating the need for curtains all the way around the tub.

We also had nowhere to store anything, so we had a hanging pocket organizer that held our shampoos etc. I didn't take a picture of it, but by the time we took it down, the mesh fabric was orange with hard water stains. Needless to say, I love my new shelf. The only sad thing is the tile color wasn't what I'd hoped for. I wanted a punchier pink, but all I could find was blush or salmon. Blush is still pretty, but not being tile experts, we didn't realize you have to use a different thin-set with glass tile. The dark stuff we used shows through in places. It's unfortunate, but I have a shelf!

There's the ceiling. I'd love to find a pearlized finish to put on it, so if you know of something, I'd love to hear about it.

At long last, we had everything finished and I took my inaugural shower. I was rejoicing until I opened the shower curtain and saw water pouring out of the ceiling vent. We had to open the ceiling and fix a plumbing problem and now it all works. We just have a drywall patch that's taped and waiting til we can hire someone to finish it for us. Again.

So it did not go smoothly and it cost (gulp) $2,000 in the end. But it is done and I am glad and enjoy it every single day.

Main Bathroom Process

2017-03-15T16:16:00.001-07:00

I'm not going to burden you with a running dialogue but this photo tour will give you some idea what it was like to live in our house while we were renovating. It was pretty dusty.

We got the floor tile set and felt encouraged. Until two tiles started rocking. We got those fixed and another two rocked. It was maddening. This is when we cursed the fact that we are not professionals. Or rather that we are professionals in other areas. It would not be the last time.

While the window was out, this cat decided to hop out and have a wild adventure. We had no idea when we brought him inside, we were also bringing a whole family of fleas. Then a box of bathroom items we'd stashed in our bedroom jumped out at me while I made my way to the bathroom in the dark. It broke my toe.

But it did get done. I finally painted. And here's a sneaky peaky at the final product:

And that's not even the best part. So many more pictures for you soon!

Main Bathroom Before

2017-03-14T15:59:00.000-07:00

Well, my friends. After months of it being finished, I finally photographed my new bathroom. A little walk-through seemed in order after all the bleating you heard about how hard the process was. And for the sake of perspective, I'd like to show you how it was before our first renovation in 2009.

You can see how it was since 2009 over here. And while it looked pretty nice in photos, there were things that were hard to live with. My biggest gripe was how impossible it felt to clean it. Imagine trying to clean around and behind this radiator (below) - particularly when it was hot! Not to mention all the wasted space. We couldn't put our trash can or scale anywhere on that side of the sink.

The radiator needed to be taken out and stripped because it had been painted with paint that was not heat resistant. In the end, we decided to take the radiator out completely, since it's a small bathroom and stays warm without its own heat source.

The plaster walls didn't appreciate the steam our showers created. The paint was happy to peel off in chunks that fell into the tub with us.

Above you can see why it felt impossible to clean. I had almost given up at this point, knowing it would be gutted soon. It hurts a wee bit just showing you these photos, but I'm determined to keep it real. A lot of renovations I see on blogs feel out of reach. The budgets are big and the finish is amazing. Well, this will not be that post.

Our floor was another problem. The original wood floors were all we could afford when we first renovated, but the toilet had problems in the years since. Brian repaired it several times and finally replaced it when the tank cracked, but the floor would never be the same.

I know...gross. I had clearly given up. We decided to replace this window, since I didn't have the energy or ambition to try to get to the bottom of all that paint.

The tub hardware was original and there was no mixer in the faucet. I didn't know what a mixer did, but it helps you get the right temperature of water. So this is why I would turn the knob for hotter, hotter, hotter and suddenly it would get cooler.

So those were our major beefs with the bathroom. Sorry for all the grossness!

It was bad enough we decided to work on it even though we had only about $300 to put toward it. It is miles better now and I'm so glad we did it. It cost much more than we expected in money (not that we thought our $300 would get us far) and boy did it cause trouble in ways we'd never imagined, but it is done and I'm looking forward to the summer of 2017 simply because there is no renovating to do!

I promise to be back with pretty pictures soon!

Power for Good

2017-03-02T19:56:00.000-08:00

Today let's try to lay aside our idea that everyone's flawed and no one can be trusted completely because of the bad lurking in their corners. We live fully aware that those we love have weaknesses and those weaknesses, acted on, become our pain. We’ve seen evidence of this in every close relationship we’ve ever had and even more evidence in relationships we observe around us. No one's completely unselfish; no one's struggle-free.

This makes it freakin' hard to believe God is pure goodness. Within the world we see, we have no examples of a completely good essence. Besides the written record of Jesus’ life, we won't witness such a person. So it’s a leap to believe outside our environment (a world with evil), this is a reality. Not only is it a reality – it’s the norm.

I’ve been braced for years, waiting for God’s Achilles heel to strike, but what if today I finally said, “Hey, I can’t see anything that looks like that around here, but I’m going to take the leap and believe it could be different elsewhere. I’m going to believe God is good, all the way through.” The Bible says he’s love, he’s light – not even a shadow in him. Sometimes I just have to try truth on to see how it feels. It doesn't always feel true at first, but when it begins to dovetail with the truthiest truths I know, it migrates from a profession of faith to an experience.

And boy, do I want an experience. I want to feel ultimately safe and I want it to vibrate all the way to my root chakra. No more feeling threatened all the time. I want to feel like Jesus did when he slept through the storm and Peter - sleeping away the night before his execution. When you sustain a lot of hurt, especially the traumatic type (which is a much wider range than you may imagine), something in your gut shifts. Deep in the place where you know that you know what you know, you suddenly feel exposed, doomed, and frantic. Whatever safety you enjoyed previously in life is ripped away and now you wait, running to and fro, trying to avoid the pain that rains down.

But that sense of safety, which some of us can barely remember having, was truer than what the trauma teaches. That's probably the entire strategy behind trauma - to make us believe the safety God offers is a shabby excuse for it. But what wrapped Jesus in enough security to sleep through the storm? What quieted Peter's heart so he could sleep in prison? God must've restored Peter's sense of safety and because of it, his hope gleamed so brightly, he didn't need anything else.

Hope for what? Hope his life had significance and value. Hope his soul was safe in Jesus. Hope in Christ's ultimate power and ability to

work

out.

If our faith grabs onto the hope that God's good, we can also grasp his power as our hope. Power's scary if it's corrupted. In fear he's not all that good, I've discounted his power. I didn't want to deal with the idea there's an all-powerful entity who would likely hurt me if he had a bad day. So you almost can't abide the truth of God's power without accepting that his power is always, always, always love.

When I see him that way, I find my mouth hanging open. He's a freakin' warrior and he's fighting for me. Veins bulging, arms swinging, tearing through anything that separates us. He holds nothing back, there's nowhere he won't go and no limit to what he's risked for me. His fierceness isn't ominous because it's coming to my rescue.

And I need rescued. Rescued from self-hate and a purposeless existence and terror.

He is good.

He is powerful.

And he's coming for me.