How are you doing? I love being able to check in with you. I know this might sound dramatic or silly but make sure you keep doing things that make you happy and never be scared to talk to me. I’d never steer you wrong, atleast not intentionally.

I love the light in your eyes, so make sure to never lose that. Life will eventually throw some hectic things your way, but if you remember who you are and how to stay grounded, you will always be ok. Life is meant to be lived. Enjoy every moment you can. Be confident, because you are Angelically beautiful and protected inside and out and nobody or nothing can ever take that from you.

Love Always,
Older you

The unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat. It sounds so matter of fact and easy to avoid. But most humans, not all, live most of their life based on fear. It is a sad fact that we rarely examine in our own lives unless we have suffered enough in order to do so.

Fear is one of the most potent emotions that may either paralyze humankind or drive us toward evolution and change. I currently want to choose the higher roads. I’ll admit that there are still things I do that are anxiety-driven, and I am destined never to be pure perfection. However, from my standpoint, failure or forfeiture is not an option. It never should have been that way, but sometimes people quit, give in, or just collapse.

Anyhow, my fears won’t win anymore. They will always exist, but once you can differentiate rational vs. non rational and persevere through obstacles in your life, you become more powerful. Confidence, clarity and mindfulness can go a long way. I hand my fears over to something greater and more powerful than myself daily. It keeps me humble and reliant on my faith.

I now own a metaphorical tool belt and toolbox. It comes with me everywhere I go. I add more and more tools to it as life goes along. Things that used to be baffle me beyond control, or cripple me, are now being handled with more ease. Things that I would never attempt, I’m now doing. Not only am I doing, I’m accomplishing.

With my tool collection, motivation, and consistency, I’m on the path towards tranquility and a greater degree of happiness than ever before. I don’t plan on reversing my ways now. So, after all the torture for so many years, I won’t mourn you. I will only remember you so I can explore further into the depths of my soul. I won’t cry for you or miss you. Will only think of you, then dismiss you! For now, goodbye fear.

I have always considered myself a poet at heart, so it would have felt easier for me to write a poem on this. However, it’s a challenge – therefore, I approach things differently when challenged. Why not think more outside of the box this time? Poems can be interpreted a thousand different ways – this letter is designed to be rather straightforward.
See, writing was always sort of a secret or maybe even subconscious outlet for me to release my inner most thoughts without anyone’s judgement. Also, the love and thrill of falling into the fantasy of something. Even if every human on Earth failed or bored me – that next interesting page still awaits. If I open it up. It can become borderline secretive if you allow it. A secret weapon in my eyes. Like a smart superpower if you will.
My beloved grandmother always told me that if I kept reading & writing it would keep my brain active and smarter, however I never pursued anything in life (at least anything worthwhile in my opinion) that had anything to do with writing. I still somehow kept it in my back pocket. I could type plenty of information on a computer, but does that really fulfill my soul? No. I coasted off other accomplishments, admired other writers & collected a nifty bookshelf over the years.
Here comes the mushy part. Clearly, I spent a lot of years in my life being shy as well as trying to fill my soul with things that were superficial. I would write or make a cool project, but then allow life to get in the way of what really made me truly happy inside. I didn’t like the attention on me, nor did I want rejection – so given the fact I never had any sort of degree or experience I continued to keep things in and just go about my little life.
The real shift came when I experienced serious loss in my family and started suffering mentally as well as physically. Every life trauma I ever experienced started to bleed out of me, preventing me from even functioning. We all know that 2020 was also a strange year and everyone had plenty of time on their hands as well. But in this case for me, something had to be done.
I started writing stories and poems, looking back through old diaries and books, reading different authors, listening to frequencies that helped my brain, taking tips and notes and meditating. Next thing you know I had tons of followers on social media and I’m writing on a consistent basis. I realized …. Why was I always holding back so much? I allowed my insecure fear to block me this WHOLE time. I am a writer! Who is to tell me I’m not? I may not have books published yet or be famous but my Higher Power & signs all from all over the Universe are throwing it right in my face. I just must keep trying to master this art. That’s all.
Then one night I sat with my son who is an avid hockey and baseball player. We watched Derek Jeter’s documentary. Everything I just wrote about in the previous paragraph helped reiterate to me that I wasn’t crazy, and then Lauren Brill and the Unsealed started easily giving me another platform to write and share my stories for so many people to read. Who cares if it’s perfect? It’s art, it is beautiful! It’s for people to read, drift and make their souls feel good.
You don’t necessarily have to wake up one day and be the best at something. But if you get up every day and tell yourself you’re going to do it, put your mind to it and stay consistent- then chances are you will be successful – somehow, someway. At least that’s the way I’m looking at it. I’m on my way to being a new self-published author. So, this is the thank you not only to all my inspirations but to ME for doing that. Changing my perspective, sacrificing certain habits and remaining resilient, consistent and patient is the only way this could ever and will happen.
So sincerely again, thank you Kelly.

Was it my childhood? Or is this a personality trait? Why does not much ever feel good enough to me? It feels as though I sit around watching others succeed, while I bleed.

Look into the lens of an extremist. There is either good or bad, victory or failure. No wiggle room. There is no option for a roadblock or a mistake. Over time, this can manifest into such a deep rooted way of thinking and anxiety that it can torture you on a daily basis.

Now on the other hand, some people just strive high, had good upbringings, or just sensibly execute their goals. I could only imagine that not everyone who is highly successful lives torturous lives. I always wished I knew how to just keep things simpler. Sincerely, I wish I could. Still somehow I always find no middle ground, no matter the task. After a while it becomes easier to just shut down and not try things. Atleast not anything new or unfamiliar. Most perfectionists have some form of rigidness to them and in my experience a good portion of them don’t fare well in new environments or change.

Unfortunately, as I’ve reflected back on my own life I can’t help but wonder all the opportunities that may have passed me by, all the good people I could have met, all the smarter paths I could have chose, all those “woulda, coulda, shoulda’s”. I’ve found myself at times in a pit of comparing and judging. Whether it was myself- or other people.

If I could have just focused on things that made me feel more “whole” I could have found more peace, and my passions earlier in life. Writing, nature, music, things that truly bring me joy.

But this just goes to show that I needed to experience the life I did – to become who I am now. I may not have all the parts of me “whole” yet, but atleast I see the bigger picture here thanks to Jane’s wise quote and I can work every day at placing all the little pieces of myself together while I try to navigate through this thing called life.

~May we all keep our balance along the walk

A life of harm done. Or so I thought.
Trauma responses from my caretakers. Fear, abandonment, deep rooted pain and dysfunction going on within my entire immediate family. I wasn’t the only one – I was just the youngest one.
Life became confusing to me, and the cycle of drugs, domestic violence & poverty kept creeping back into my life going up until my mid 20’s.
I could name a lot of different times where my life was at crossroads, and all sorts of different choices that probably changed my life, as well as major life events and losses that have occurred. Majorly, the sudden loss of my brother in September of 2020 from a drinking & driving accident.
But that wouldn’t be enough. See, it wasn’t just one turning point for me. I have been on a continual spiritual journey since November of 2010. Accepting treatment and entering the journey of healing from PTSD and substance abuse was a pivotal moment in my life for sure.
Once I released and faced all the truths about myself, confronted myself in the mirror, and walked through my past traumas with the support of all my Angels and my network here on Earth – suddenly, things started slowly shifting. Not instantly, but things got better for me. Monetary things returned. My faith returned, and my life started getting better. I’ve had a few bumps & falls but am blessed to say I got right back up.
I always thought I was a victim. I now know that I am a survivor. This mentality has majorly changed me for the better. It’s not to downplay anyone’s trauma, but to be able to say you walked away from it and are still alive to tell the story, is an inspiration to mass amounts of people still silently suffering. There is also an inner freedom found in it that I did not know existed.
Taking the time to sit with myself, go for walks, color pictures & enjoy being in the present moment. Laughing, dancing – just like a kid. I’m giving new childhood memories back to myself. I can hold on to the good memories that I have & do my best to mourn the bad. I now know what self-love is. I’m giving that back as well, and I’m giving it to my children, and any other kids that may cross my path. These are all gifts that cannot fully be explained. But certainly, all turning points in which I have chosen to walk along the paths that lead me to happiness.
I Now hold my head and shoulders up higher when I look and speak with people.
I speak up for myself, and my loved ones.
I show gratitude, kindness and respect to Mother Nature, my High Power and thank the Universe for continuously showing me that I have a purpose here on this planet. Even if others don’t see it yet.
I suppose in hindsight as I sit here in this present moment overlooking the Great South Bay of Long Island – my true Turning Point was finding ME.

Love Always,

It’s March. Spring is starting to peek through the clouds.
I’m trying to move slow. I’m trying to be easy.
I’m working hard just to breathe.
I’m pining for control over my own body,
My autonomy feels out of reach.

I am reminded how I felt at sixteen, when I made the choice to starve.
Then I am reminded of the Palestinian children and men and women,
Dark eyes pleading while they wither away,
Bombs reflected back into our view.
I am humbled.

I am not the same as I once was.
Gratitude exists, albeit forced at times.
Growth and healing is an active choice.
I let myself transform.

My love and I wake in a new city.
Maybe a new country.

Either continental or café,
We enjoy a breakfast with good coffee
and pastries.
The chocolatiest of croissants,
The softest of scones,
and the warmest of waffles.

Then, we go for a walk.
We take our time to inhale the fresh air and
absorb the new city’s noises and
admire its unique architecture.

Our walk ends at a bookstore.
As we wander the shop’s aisles,
the bookstack we carry grows and grows and grows!
My love says, “Yes, of course we can buy them all.”
(We are not worried about the logistics of getting the books home.)
Once the stack is so high that
we can’t see over it,
we buy them all.

On our walk back to wherever-we’re-staying,
we make a pit-stop for takeout.
Most likely Chinese food, but
could be Korean or Indian or poke, too.

Next, but before dinner, is a warm shower.
Rich instrumental music with dissonant harmonies
and bubbly shampoo.
Fragrance-free body lotion and French skincare,
Followed by the baggiest of sweatpants and
an oversized tee.

Now all squeaky clean, my love and I eat dinner
over a grand adventure on a screen.
All snuggled,
we fall asleep before the credits roll.

I was eighteen in my public speaking class, introducing myself as a lioness with a shake in my throat.
She reminded me of my own strength when I needed her most:
When I was dissociating away from my high school relationship,
And dissociating into the arms of an abusive one.
When with ferocious presence I left, and I rebuilt.

When Roe v. Wade overturned and I’m on the phone with a man
He rants about how many women must be so angry,
But doesn’t hear how it made me feel.
When he tells me I’m just like my mother like that’s a bad thing,
With the lioness by my side, I left, and I rebuilt.

With the flesh of my former self between my teeth,
I destroyed and built again.
With the pain of my foremothers suffocated under my paws,
I destroyed and built again.
With screams and aches and roars I didn’t know I had buried,
I destroyed and built again and destroyed and built again.

The blood of self-love drips from my jaw.
The lioness and I are side by side and we are one.
We have found safety at last.

The best day is a slow day at work. The best day is the day that the sun is shining, but it’s not too hot outside. The best day is the first day the temperature drops in September. The best day is the day I can give my baby a kiss. The best day is the day I belly laugh with my best friends until my cheeks hurt. The best day is the day I give my mom a hug. The best day is the day I am loving and kind on purpose. The best day is the day without anxiety; the day I can breathe through it. The best day is the day I start a new book. The best day is the day I finish my new favorite book. The best day is the day I start knitting, and every day I get to since. The best day is the day I get to go on adventures with the people I love. The best day is going to the Atlanta Zoo with my oldest sister and our partners. The best day is that same day, at the zoo, when a lion made eye contact with me (I swear it’s true!). The best day is in Boston, watching the second oldest sister graduate from Harvard. The best day is reconnecting with extended family for the first time in a decade in Boston. The best day is the day I went to the Hozier concert, and I was physically connected to the music and the message more than ever before and everyone in the audience was crying and it was beautiful. The best day is the day I realized my chronic illness is teaching me how to stop and rest. The best day is the day my cat decides he wants to snuggle in my lap before bed. The best day is therapy day! The best day is the day I realized I am healing; my hard work is paying off. The best day is the day I let myself cry in front of someone else. The best day is the day I realize I’m as smart as I think I am and, yes, I can prove it to you. The best day is the day I decide to be brave. The best day is the day I do the brave thing.

I’m grateful for blue skies, warm sunshine, and a breeze that kisses the nose.
I’m grateful for green grasses and rushing creeks and bare feet.
I’m grateful for friends and lovers that grab you by the hand and dance with you.
I’m grateful for their consistent reminders, “You’re safe here. I love you.”
I’m grateful for the forehead kisses my love gives me,
And that he bends down to let me kiss his forehead right back.
I’m grateful for the safety of my home, and I’m grateful for a newcomer’s compliments,
“It looks like a gallery in here!” Thank you, the art is my favorite, too.
I’m grateful, especially, for the rabbit posed in play, a floppy handstand,
That’s been in our home longer than my memories. It’s one of my first ones.
I’m grateful for the way the sun shines into my mother’s bedroom just before sunset in spring.
It bathes the house in gold and it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
I’m grateful for the drums that echo in my chest at the concert in Alpharetta,
And the music that reverberates in my bones. I’m grateful to have a body that feels the music.
It’s exhilarating and soothing, an ecstasy I don’t need to swallow.
I’m grateful for cats with soft fur and who love love love ear scratches.
I’m grateful to my body and my brain for giving me the gift of sensation.
Even when it’s too much, or not enough, I’m grateful to be present to feel.