What It's Like.

I am almost 51 years old.

I have watched as antisemitic sentiments and hate crimes have risen across America in recent years.

Not that they ever went away.

But the freedom that evil has experienced has been powerful. Fierce. Deadly.

I am almost 51 years old.

I was born in Brooklyn, NY. 

A place I never felt myself to be a major minority. 

A place I called home for much of my life.

A place that felt safe.

I am almost 51 years old.

And as I watch as the hatred against Jewish people grows and thrives?

I'm afraid.

As I hear the chants shouted at so-called peaceful protests?

I'm afraid.

Have you heard them?

Have you seen?

Have you been listening?

Watching?

Can you imagine?

I am almost 51 years old.

And before now I had never seen such death and carnage on my people in my lifetime. 

I had always heard, never forget and never again.

I never thought I would have to FEEL it. 

Your Jewish friends are afraid.

Your Jewish friends feel alone.

Your Jewish friends are watching. Waiting. Listening.

We hear the echo of our own voices.

We see the lack of condemning posts about Hamas and their actions.

We see you sharing your every day lives.

We comment, like, love, care.

And also ...

We wonder.

We question.

We try to breathe.

We question some more.

I am almost 51 years old.

And I never thought in my lifetime I would see this. Live this. Worry so. 

But here I am.

Living. Worrying. Breathing.

Questioning.

And that, my friends. 

That is what it's like.

Tweet

Signs.

Have you listened to Taylor Swift's [fairly] new song, exile yet?

I can play that song on repeat a trillion times a day, and it tears me up every time. 

Signs. 

They're so interesting, aren't they? 

We see them in retrospect. We blink, and they appear, often too late. 

And then we get stuck. 

Like a hamster on a wheel.

Replaying and replaying.

Each and every sign. 

We find ourselves wishing.

Thinking.

Hoping. 

Rewinding. 

But we can't.

We can't rewind. 

Not magically. 

Not really.

We can't see the signs that were there before he left.

We can't see the signs that were there before we lost her. 

We can't see the signs that were there all along.

We want to say we can't imagine they were there and we missed them.

And yet.

We did.

We do. 

We miss the signs. 

But what becomes most important - SO VERY IMPORTANT.

To each and every one of us. 

Is that we let them go.

We cannot stay there. 

Stuck.

Tripping over the signs that are behind us. 

We just can't.

So. Friends.

Let them go.

Those signs. 

They're irrelevant now.

They don't matter.

They mean nothing.

We can't change what happened.

It was not our fault.

We just didn't know.

We didn't see.

We skipped over the signs.

And we need to let them go. 

Tweet

How To Keep Calm When Everyone Is Freaking Out.

Friends.

I know what you're going through right now.

I know that you're experiencing anxiety like you have not experienced in some time.

If ever.

I know that you are feeling all of the symptoms that make you stop and pause and think, what is happening to me - physically?

Take a moment.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Tips for Men: How Not To Create A Dating Profile

Listen. I've been single for a good bit of time, y'all.

Dating after divorce is not a fun experience, especially if you have been married for while, or a long long while.

You just don't know what's out there.

And let me tell you, my friends, what's out there? It's terrifying.

I've decided to take this space to write a few tips on what not to include in your profiles. Let me help you, if you would. Because many of you are scaring off potential partners with what you ARE including. And maybe you know it and don't care, but in case you do? Keep reading.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Closing Doors.

Y'all.

I am so tired this week.

I have plans this weekend that will bring love and joy and support back into my world and my heart, and I can't wait for them.

But in the meantime?

This week.

I just can't get out of my own head.

I just can't get out of my own way.

I know you do it, too.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Defining Family.

When a couple has been together for a long long time - their families intertwine.

His family becomes her family.

Her family becomes his family.

I use his-her because that is the couple I was a part of.

But know that this applies for his-his relationships, and her-her relationships.

And yes. I know. It does not happen all the time.

Sometimes families remain divided. Separated. Distant.

But. Not always.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Questions.

image from pixabay

Part of our conversations.

Part of who we are.

Part of what we need.

For how else will we get to know one another?

If not for questions?

Tweet

Keep reading »

Voices.

image from Pixabay

I'm sitting here watching The Voice, and it's interesting that the title for my post is Voices.

I'm sticking with the one word titles for November. Though I'm obviously off the daily posting thing.

So.

Voices.

They represent so much.

What voice do you use when you speak?

How many voices do you have?

Tweet

Keep reading »

Emotions.

Emotions are tricky, aren't they?

We go through days.

Moments.

Feel as though we're flying high.

On top of the world.

We rely on others.

Feed off of them.

Our emotions often echo those of the people around us.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Hatred.

My posts appear to have but one word titles these days.

Am I lacking creativity?

Or am I struggling with words?

Or is it the force of the world that has taken them away?

Hatred.

For all that is holy and good in this world, there is so so much hatred.

So very much.

I know.

You know this.

You're nodding along with me.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Whispers.

image from pixabay

Some days there isn't much to say.

Some days I find myself falling asleep from the silence.

The eerie echoes of nothingness.

And on some days I whisper.

Hi.

Hey.

And I smile.

Some days I wonder.

Some days I think too much.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Finding Myself

Each day goes by.

Another aspect of my life shifts.

I blink.

Or I don't.

And I try to find myself.

Each week goes by.

I dig through the rubble.

I breathe deeply.

Or I don't.

And I see myself more clearly.

Each month goes by.

Another thought, another unwritten blog post.

I catch myself smiling.

There she is.

Another month.

Another moment.

Another deep breath in.

With each day, week, month ...

Year, even.

I see where my path has taken me.

I see where I am headed.

And I like what the future holds.

Stay with me, friends.

I'm finding myself again.

And I like who I am.

Tweet

Sinking.

Some days it feels like we're all simply sinking.

Holding our heads above water is nearly impossible.

The rain falls at the same time.

Hail hits the top of our heads.

We reach out, and there's nobody there.

We fall under.

Down.

Down.

The water covers us.

We open our eyes and look around.

We look above us.

We belong up there.

And so we break through the surface.

And we look around.

But some days.

Above the surface.

We take a deep breath.

And dive back down.

Because some days ...

Fighting doesn't feel worth it.

Some days ...

We lack the energy.

We want the water to carry us.

To wherever we're going next.

To whatever comes our way.

To whatever we can't see in front of us.

Not down, necessarily.

Forward.

But not up, either.

Up is too damned hard some days.

We feel like we need to float.

We know we can only do that on the surface.

And so, we need to decide.

What to do next?

Because some days ...

We feel like we're sinking.

And we're just too tired to swim.

** I feel as though I need to include a disclaimer here. I wrote this a few days ago. I had made it through a rough day, and I'd seen many friends going through the same. Our political climate is a hotbed of disasters, and our friends and loved ones often fight the unexpected, and it's exhausting. So. Please know I am okay. And many of my loved ones are okay, as well. But some days. We all feel it. This hold. The pulling of the water that surrounds us. And it sucks. But we find our way. But we also know that some days, well, we just want to try to float, sink a bit, sink a bit further, and then, then we decide to swim again. Maybe not that same day. Maybe not the next. But we keep swimming. Or we grab hold of someone who is. Or a floatation device that will hold us up. Because we're worth it. Each of us. Always. ** 

Tweet

Sweet Sixteen

This post was written a week ago, on a date that mattered to me once and will always hold a spot in my heart as one of the reasons I am who I am today. Join me as I look back for a bit, and look forward for always.

I'm quite reflective in my space these days.

I'm coming to a turning point in my life - or I've already turned several corners - and in doing so I've felt some storms a-brewin' inside of me.

I've noticed the intensity with which I absorb other people's stories.

I've always been a listener. In fact, a little over a year ago I had been listening and listening and supporting so many. I'd been writing, too.

Finding words to remind people that they would, WE would, move forward.

That we would grow.

That we would do so very much - with or without those around us. With or without an organization and individuals we had felt represented so much of who we were. Who we are.

And then, within a week or so, I found myself having to dig deep and think those same things, same words, just.for.me.

I'm still me.

I still grow.

I still feel the intensity I've always felt.

I'm still passionate about things that matter.

I'm still who I am and who I want to be.

I'm changing, growing, thriving - all the time.

Even in the moments that I find myself looking around and feel as though I have been standing still for 365+ days.

Sweet sixteen.

Sixteen years ago today I changed my life by saying a few words.

Signing some papers.

In the coming months I will change my life again.

By thinking some words.

By signing some papers.

Sixteen years.

I was determined today, to not really think about the date.

I didn't focus on it. Think too hard.

Facebook reminded me of anniversaries gone by, but other than that I was shown love and support by two people I receive it from unconditionally. Always.

And then, the day went on.

No flashbacks.

Photographs.

Laughter.

Tears.

Just me.

Me and my daughter.

And that's when I reminded myself.

Sixteen is just a number.

Just like 44. And 45.

Like 29. Like 34.

Like 14. And 15.

Like 10. And 11.

Numbers can just be numbers.

You don't always have to do the math.

Sixteen.

The number 16 is a karmic number, and people under its influence need to keep their feet on the path of higher learning. They must cultivate their personal willpower, independence and initiative action to enable them to overcome obstacles that come into their life experiences. 
Number 16 denotes that many will experience trials and defeats throughout their lives. 

- - From Numerology - The Vibration and Meaning of Numbers

Tweet

No Mud. No Lotus.

There are many things I thought I'd experience in my life.

Divorce is certainly not one of them.

No one goes into a marriage with expectations of divorce.

People experience many things.

Cold feet.

Nerves.

Jitters.

Excitement.

Me?

I had butterflies in my stomach on my wedding day.

Butterflies as I experienced one of the biggest moments of my life.

I was surrounded by family and friends.

I was in love. I was loved.

I wasn't young. I waited. I found the right person.

I knew what I wanted.

I knew when I said yes.

I can see myself - feel what I was feeling.

I had a good life.

A wonderful life.

And then.

I became a mom.

And life changed some.

Parents. We were parents. We are parents.

Those moments - I'll remember them always.

Looking into the eyes of my person.

The person who experienced this shift in their life at the exact moment I did.

The person who held my hand as we three made ourselves a family.

Made ourselves a home.

The person who held my hand through the mud.

And then.

We experienced so very much.

Loss. Grief. Pain.

Laughter. Love. Joy. Happiness.

These things cycled throughout our lives.

Parenting. Motherhood. Fatherhood.

Exhaustion. Emotion. Frustration.

Work. Friendships. Relationships.

And then.

A decade and some later.

Life changed some more.

Our hands slipped from one another.

We loosened our grasp. 

We didn't know the plan.

It mattered not.

For it is not always for us to know.

Because if we did - what steps would we have taken?

What challenges would we have allowed ourselves to face?

What pain? What losses? What anger and hurt?

And so, instead we found the moments.

We find the moments.

We stop - we think - we take notice.

Do we ever expect the mud to surround us?

Even in the deepest of floods we don't anticipate that it may swallow us whole.

And when it does we don't always think we'll find our way out.

But we will.

We always do.

Our story isn't over yet.

We're strong.

We live through.

Persevere.

We grow.

We thrive.

We prosper.

We flourish.

No mud.

No lotus.

Tweet

Falling Short.

I used this term with a friend tonight and got asked what I'm comparing myself to.

Or who against.

And she's so damned right.

And yet. I do it anyway.

Why do we do this?

This comparison thing?

It's not a game.

There's no winning or losing.

Who are we up against?

Who are we standing side-by-side with?

Aren't they our friends?

Our loved ones?

Those who support us and encourage us and listen to us with their entire hearts?

Aren't these the people in our lives?

So - falling short.

Why is it even a thing?

Because we've spent so many years comparing ourselves.

We - especially women - and I say this because it's what I know and who I am ...

We compare ourselves to those around us.

To those we know.

To those we don't.

Especially to those on social media.

We say to ourselves, I want to be like her when I grow up.

And suddenly, we look around and realize we ARE grown up.

But how can that be possible?

We're not there yet.

Where is there, anyway?

If I'm being honest - I'm not sure.

My "there" is in my own head.

Especially now.

Today.

This week.

This month.

This year.

Oh. This year.

I've fallen short more times than I can count.

More times than I can explain.

I don't always know why.

Or what causes it.

But I've felt it.

Lived it.

Breathed it.

Falling short stings.

It stings so badly.

Maybe even more when you have no idea who you're comparing yourself to.

Is it easier when you do?

I'm not sure.

I'm still trying to figure that out.

I'm still here.

Falling short.

All the while telling my friends that they're amazing.

Incredible.

And above all - or in spite of it - human.

We're all human.

So.

Who are we comparing ourselves to, exactly?

And how is it possible that we're falling short at all?

Isn't it just that we're being ourselves?

Living our lives?

Finding our way?

And then.

When we do.

We'll see we were there all along.

Where we were supposed to be.

Never short.

Never behind.

Never beneath.

Just.

There.

And isn't it possible.

Likely, even.

That that's exactly where I am, too?

Right there.

Right next to you.

Standing tall.

Even me, my 5' 2" self.

Tall.

And not really falling short at all.


If you need a woman in your life like my friend Dani you can find her at Ok, Dani and talk to her about the opportunities she has for you to hire her as your coach. This girl motivates and inspires like nobody's business. Or however the saying goes. Reach out to her. You'll thank me when you do.

Tweet

6 Books To Recommend To Your Newly Separated Friend

image from pexels

Listen, y'all know I'm all about the books.

And I've been so extremely quiet lately, just sort of consumed by my own thoughts and stuck in my own head - so I thought I'd take a few minutes and share this post that might help you or someone you know.

Whether your friend is separated or on the road to divorce, there are so many books out there that they might find to be helpful.

There are others that just look like they'd be a bunch of nonsense.

So, how to decide what to read?

Maybe you're thinking - she's not going to want to read a danged book! She's hurt. Grieving, even. In a lot of emotional turmoil/upheaval/pain.

But trust me. Sometimes she's not really sure who to talk to and how to organize her thoughts. And so her best friend for a short period of time will likely be her favorite new journal, and a really good and understanding book.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Finally.

I finally did it.

It's almost been an entire year.

It's time.

I think so, anyway.

Beyond time, if I'm being truthful.

And so.

I finally did it.

I shifted.

Moved.

Recognized what I'd ignored all along.

Tweet

Keep reading »

A Brand New Year

I'm sitting on my couch with my daughter.

She is playing a video game.

I'm on the computer.

That last part is obvious - no?

This really isn't that much different than last year.

My daughter and I welcomed in 2017 with her asleep on the couch. I even recorded the moment the year changed on Snapchat and their year in review popped up with a reminder that made me giggle.

She fell asleep and just missed it. This year she is determined to stay awake.

So.

That's different.

We've got a new cat we're snuggling with.

We had a new one last year, too.

Last year we had two dogs, this year we had to say goodbye to one.

July ended with lots of weeping and sadness.

We knew it was coming - but couldn't prepare for it - how can you prepare to say goodbye to such an unconditional love?

It broke our hearts.

We miss him terribly.

Tweet

Keep reading »

Three More Months

Three more months before we sign a piece of paper and wait for word.

Three more months before we've lived separately for an entire year.

Three more months before I look forward and likely think - what now?

Three more months before ...

What?

Before what?

Today is the nine month mark.

I'm not pointing that out as the premise for this post, because nine months seems like forever in the scheme of things. And three seems as though they'll fly by.

Three more months before I have to truly decide, do I want to maintain the same last name as my child for a while longer, or am I ready to go back to who I was before?

I'm still me.

Tweet

Keep reading »