the little things.

Here.

2011-12-06T10:31:00.012-06:00

I stopped writing a while ago, subconsciously perhaps protecting my privacy and the other half just life being busy busy busy. This is where I go to think, after a long day and I need to write it out. This is where I go to process and work through and find me. I've had the luxury of close friends and best friends to process and love on and celebrate, but I miss the writing. The documenting. The lookback at the steps and to see how far I've come and where life has gone and how incredibly somewhat mind-blowing it all unfolds.

This weekend was beautiful. This weekend was special and awesome and heart.explode. kinda good. This weekend, we celebrated two years, and this weekend, we celebrated how far we have come and how much we have grown. I wrote, 10 months ago, in a completely different place. Scared, unsure, unwilling to budge and unwilling to move, but here we are. Here we are and we are stronger than ever before and we have dug in, clung on, and made permanent imprints. I am proud, and I am grateful, and I am excited.

"It's not an if but a when"

What an incredible thing to be able to say of your relationship. What an incredible feeling to be loved and to love on patiently, kindly, gently. He gets my crazy, and in all the crazy of crazies, I get his too. We try, and we make mistakes, and sometimes, we get angry with each other but at the end of the day, two tickles and apologies that are sincere, we talk. We talk until the cows come home and we work it out, we're in this, for the long haul, and so we learn, we pack away, we start again, we hold on tighter.

I wasn't looking for this when I met him. I'm not even sure that I knew exactly what I was looking for. I had no clue this would be this important and significant. I had no clue we were forever and now I am so thankful that I didn't. Because it made us, us. Friends, lovers, fighters, doers.

I wrote this, this weekend and posted it. 45 likes later and I still mean every word.

"Two years ago today, I accidentally met a boy in a seedy bar.

At first, he was my only friend that was tall enough to help me change lightbulbs plus he volunteered his washer and dryer so I didn't have to scrounge up 1000 quarters to do the 16 loads of laundry that I was stockpiling.

He'd crash our sushi parties, and we both learned a whole new world from each other like never being able to reach the top aisle at the grocery store if you're short or how having long legs is not a bonus when you're trying to fit into a car.

Some nights, after a crazy night out with friends, we would call each other and stay up too late playing 'guess what happened today' or 'ohmygodihavetotellyouastory'. Another night, on a whim, we drove all around Springfield trying to find the house with best Christmas lights.

The first time he asked me out, I turned him down and he made me watch the tackiest 80s movie(Big Trouble in Little China) in retaliation.

During hell week(retail at Christmas!!), he would surprise me and the girls at work with lattes or warm dinners. In turn, he let me try out new recipes on his stomach of steel. Some were successful and some, well, he just thanked me for with a big smile.

The first time I knew I was in love with this silly goody two shoes nerd boy was when I saw this picture of us at a party. From the outside looking in, there was no denying that we thought the world of each other. He had captured my heart by being my friend first and I had the hugest school girl crush.

We went on a phenomenal first date but then I broke his heart by moving halfway across the world six months later. So he quit his job, sold his house, gave away the dog he loved, said bye to all his friends and family to come start a dream with me.

He is my best friend, my partner-in-crime, my pasar malam buddy, and he reminds me of all that is good in the world.

He makes me stupid proud and has the best heart. He lets me be, do, try, dream and when I am scared and insecure, he holds me and reminds me that I am enough.

Mr K, thank you for being you, thank you for that smile bigger than your face can contain and thank you for being there on a random cold night at a seedy bar 2 years ago.

You are my peanut to my buttaahhh and I'm glad we have us. :)

I love you and thanks for the perfect anniversary date."

And it was perfect. And magical. And as we walked back to the car after Stomp! followed by a fancy dinner and drinks at an even fancier lounge with an incredible view of the city, it was raining. And so we sang singing in the rain and held hands, running and laughing and trying to make it back to the car in one piece.

These are what dreams are made of.

And today, at a meeting that determines so much, he was next to me, as we discussed and figured out and I was floored again of how God has a plan if I just keep the faith and hold on. Dream big little girl, dream big, dream loud, take a deep breath and believe. So many things are happening and they are special and good and overwhelming, and over dinner, we squeal and we laugh and I share all my hopes and dreams and he just smiles and says, I got you, babe.

"The biggest adventure you can ever take is to live the life of your dreams."

~ Oprah

First day of 5th grade.

2011-08-18T08:09:00.008-05:00

Last year today, was hard.

I was still heartbroken and hurt. I was still struggling with the whys and the hows and the what nows. Still trying to figure out the boundaries and the lines drawn, trying to make sense of what was left of my relationship with you and trying to grieve the relationship that was.

This year, I'm in a good place, and the picture your mom put up this morning made me smile. I still miss you, and I always will, but moving on and letting go does not mean I forget.

And this year, like all the others before and all the others to come, I wish you have a great school year, and you make good choices, and you build friendships with incredible people that will become your soul sisters with whispers and secrets and that 'catch you when you fall', 'make you laugh so hard you pee in your pants', 'love you so hard you feel so incredibly lucky' way that best friends do.

This year, I am excited and so incredibly proud of you.

This year, I smile and wish you so well.

This year, I cheer from the sidelines.

Quietly.

Appreciatively.

From a distance.

Happy first day of 5th grade, stinker.

"We learn by doing." - Aristotle

Hold On.

2011-08-18T03:18:00.000-05:00

Shutter. Click. Breathe.

2011-04-27T00:27:00.006-05:00

I haven't picked up my camera in over a year. I think I've forgotten how it feels in my hands, the solid heaviness of clicking and focusing and finding moments in little things. I think I've lost it, I think I lost it in the divorce. In the heartache and the pain, in the things I didn't want to capture and in the emotions that were too raw to be displayed.

Because photography for me was an escape, a safe place, a place to work it out and find god in the things forgotten and in the things unseen. It was a place to be stripped and honest and bare, and I'm not sure what happened, I'm not sure what went wrong or what my subconscious said to my conscious but I haven't picked up my camera in over a year.

Maybe even two.

Sure, I take daily photos with insta.gram and hisptamatic and it is fun and silly and special. I take daily reminders of the good that happened that day or a funny for a laugh later on. I capture moments to be shared with my boyfriend that lives halfway across the world, it is my way of saying, look, I brought you with me, I'm sharing this memory with you. I do that, and I love it, and I have a collection of the everyday things that make my heart smile or jogs a memory or creates a new marker in this chapter that I am in.

...but it isn't the same.

And I don't know if I am afraid or scared of what I will find or what I won't find, I don't know if it it's because it was my escape for so so long and so the very act of doing it takes me back to a place that I am struggling to let go and dying to let go of.

I don't know if it's because the girl behind the lens is no longer the same and the pictures that I am taking and the people that I am photographing and the landscape that I am capturing has all changed so dramatically and crazily.

I don't know if it is the intimacy of being that raw and honest that is holding back. I don't know if like other things, if this divorce has robbed me of the ability to trust and let go. I enjoy my privacy, and I enjoy my walls. They are perhaps not entirely healthy, but they keep me safe.

So I'm giving myself a timeline, a chance, a challenge.

I'm giving myself a push.

I stumbled onto a website of someone that gets it, someone that understands the power of a photograph and the magic that happens when you capture. And she made a list, of 100 things to do. And somewhere, something clicked.

I'd like to take pictures again.

That's somewhere close to the top of my list.

I'd like to learn to take pictures again.

And the other 99 things, the other 99 things will come I'm sure.

But this, this sparks something in deep my soul.

This makes me believe I can.

This makes me believe I will.

This makes me believe that I am not lost, not broken, not forever changed and scarred, but growing, but evolving, but figuring my way out...slowly but surely.

This gives me my happy for today.

And it's a small step, it's whispering an intention, then wanting to take it back almost immediately after, it is a tentative dip to test the waters.

And I am breathing.

I can do this.

Someday, I'm going to take pictures again.

These are my people.

2011-04-26T07:26:00.003-05:00

These are some of my best friends, my people. The ones I call when my world falls apart and the ones that remind me that I am stronger than I think I am.

These are the ones that make me laugh so hard I'm afraid unmentionable liquids will shoot out of my nose and that I may never look at something the same way again.

They are the ones that will get an inside story a split second after it has occurred and either carry it with them to their grave or remind me of it,every single time they can, of that one time I...

They are my people, my emergency contact in a foreign land and my surrogate family on a holiday far away from home.

They are my strongest supporters and my biggest opponents when I am about to do something stupid. They are brave, and they are fighters. They will find the voice I don't have and speak the words I can't.

They will take your drunk sorry ass home, hold your hair back as you pray for mercy, and they will change you into your pjs and leave water and Tylenol on your bedstand for when you hate God, the world, yourself and everything in between the next morning.

They are the ones that will knock some sense into your head but hear you out as you're bitching about the catastrophe of the day. They will listen to your dreams but more than that, they will believe in it too. And when you can't, or when you're scared and unsure, they will remind you that you are always, always stronger than you think you are.

They embrace my pathetic sense of direction and send me text messages or talk to the cab driver when I am lost and freaking out in the big city.

They will laugh at my sometimes neurotic OCD tendencies yet let me have the seat by the wall and love me even as I am freaking out because ohmylord the grand order of things has been disturbed.

These are my friends, this is the family I choose, and these are my people.

Sent from my iPhone

Privacy.

2011-04-08T00:25:00.015-05:00

photo credit : Miss Britt

The hard part is remembering that he manipulated me. And that shocking, unexpected, wake of grief and devastation. That deep in your soul ache hurt that feels like it's permanently made a place in your heart. That drop bottom sinking gut feeling. That betrayal, and it's a lifetime of healing.

Our anniversary was the 28th.

We would have been married for three years.

Instead, I had wisdom teeth surgery.

I voluntarily let someone cut out pieces of my jaw bone and gums to remove impacted teeth that had become a pain in my ass.

I looked like a chipmunk, with a crooked smile, in a haze of painkillers for a couple days.

But that wasn't what hurt the most.

What hurt the most was missing the security of never knowing.

Never knowing that your life can unravel in split second.

Never knowing that your soul is able to be so deeply hurt and torn apart.

I missed her.

I missed the life I had made, fought for, worked through.

I missed the family that I thought I was building and the dreams that I was dreaming.

Some random legal leftover junk cropped up recently, and I was angry all over again. Violated. Frustrated. Annoyed.

I wanted to not be.

I wanted to be unaffected.

I wanted to be over it.

I wanted to just not be.

But I was.

And it hurt.

And it sucked for a little while.

This sudden jolt into your safe place, your sanity coming a little undone, unexpected.

Because he's done it again.

Struck you when you least expected it.

---

I enjoy my privacy. I enjoy my safe circle of friends, and letting in the people that I trust. And when I trust, I truly, really do. And there are no barriers, no filters, no secrets. I am who I am, I am real, I am passionate, and I share.

I am threatened by the possibility of having someone violate this trust. Of having someone betray that trust.

It has happened before.

He smooth talked his way in. He violated that trust. He's good at this. I am not.

It hurt me and cut me deeply, in places that I don't care to revisit. In places that I don't want to confront again.

I am struggling, with the moral issue. Of wanting to forgive, of wanting to be glass half full, of wanting to believe that they are better than this...but I don't trust.

I don't trust.

I enjoy my privacy...and I am struggling with letting them in.

But more so, I am protecting myself.

From him.

It feels wrong but right at the same time.

I can't find the words.

Is it selfish that I want to cut them out of my life?

Is it wrong that I feel bad for wanting to do that?

That it's not a "nice" thing to do?

But the threat, the possibility, the fact that they have betrayed me before...do I trust them to not fall into his web of lies and deceit again?

Accidentally let him know too much about my life and what is going on in it?

Accidentally give him ammo that will threaten this safe place I've found or the security in knowing that I have no connection to him anymore.

that He Cannot Hurt Me Anymore.

It isn't her I'm talking about.

Yes, yes she did it too.

But somehow, I think I trust her again.

She has earned my trust.

Earned my respect.

Earned our friendship back.

She has put in the time, she has taken the hurt, betrayed, anger and built on regaining this friendship.

It is the others.

The other part "his" friends.

The others that just stood aside as he devoured me, and fed him pieces of my soul, and fueled my heartache by feeding him information for him to use against me. Perhaps they did it unknowingly. Perhaps they did it knowingly.

Months later, they wrote and reached out with letters much like hers. Apologizing. Rectifying. Clearing their conscience.

Asking for information. Asking for details. Asking to tell my story....only that they didn't want my story. They wanted the gossip.

They wanted the dirty sordid disgusting details.

Like a soap opera.

Like something on the telly that was entertaining.

I told them the facts, nothing more, nothing less, but something in my gut has always whispered, No.

I didn't get close, but I opened up a door. I said, okay. I relented. I forgave.

But I am afraid, that they are capable of hugging me and stabbing me in the back at the same time.

I call bullshit.

But it is hard, much much too hard, to be this person.

To be this assertive.

To take preemptive measures.

Because nice sunshine and rainbows and roses me always wants to believe in the good of people.

Always wants to give someone the benefit of doubt.

A second chance.

But is this too big a risk?

These are my pictures. This is my life. These are my stories to share or not share.

My privacy.

My choice to disconnect. To cut off all ties from him. To end all communication. To ignore all attempts of communication from him. No matter how hard he tries.

He is someone I don't want in my life.

He is someone that is not healthy for me.

He is someone that I don't feel comfortable having in my life and someone I don't feel safe having in my life.

Is it wrong that they are a casualty in this mess?

That even if they were sincere, that I don't trust them, and I don't want them in my life by default?

Is it wrong that I can't let them in because they go to golf with him and are like putty in his hands?

Because I don't want to be that person.

I don't want to be bitter.

I don't want to be unfriendly.

I don't want to be unfair.

But at the same time, I don't want to be stupid.

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

So fucking conflicted.

What bloody now?

"There is no better than adversity. Every defeat, every heartbreak, every loss, contains its own seed, its own lesson on how to improve your performance the next time."

~Malcolm X

Hold on to that lovely feeling.

2011-03-27T10:34:00.011-05:00

Finished my first module yesterday. An exam that culminated into a celebration of sorts, with new friends and old, in places new and old. I realize that this high, this confidence, can be so addicting. This trying out new things, struggling, struggling, struggling.....then bam, catharsis. The challenge, the overcoming, the digging deep....that, that's a magical and amazing kind of special.

I'm in the thick of things in some projects, in the very beginning humps of others, and I can very closely just touch the end light on a couple. It is all so much but so good at once.

I have so much to say but can't find the right words at the same time. So much to do but at a standstill and lost at times. The hard work, "paying my dues", earning respect and building a foundation...and sometimes, I am scared. And sometimes, I doubt. And sometimes, I am insecure and so very unsure.

This stage of my life is a place that I am so excited to be in at the moment. For once, I feel good enough and confident enough about the things that I do not know and the places that I am going. There is true passion in the things that I do. I am inspired, but more than that, I am fueled with determination and belief. I believe...I believe in this project, I believe in rachealkate, I believe in us, I believe in myself, and that is such a gift.

I don't think I can put into words what it feels like to finally be here.

It's taken me years, and years, and years, of heartache and disappointments, of bad choices and failures, of insecurities and doubt. It has taken me years.

But I am here.

I am here and I am celebrating being here.

I am here and I am putting one foot in front of the other.

Digging deep, and continuing.

A lot like the last 15 minutes of RPM when you are /this/ close to passing out and the trainer tells you to bump the intensity up a notch and you, honest to god, think your heart might burst out of your chest, and that there is absolutely no way your legs and thighs could push any further and dear god you've just realized the existence of about 700 hundred other aching, burning muscles in your butt cheeks.

But you dig deep, you tune out the world and find your beat, you silence your doubts, you suck it in.

That's it.

You suck it all in.

You say, I can, instead of no.

You say, Hells Yes, instead of wtf.

You say, let's do it, and you give it your all.

Your everything.

......and you succeed.

Fuck.

Yes.

"If people believe in themselves, it is amazing what they can accomplish."

~Sam Walton

Goodbye, I Love America.

2011-03-17T13:39:00.012-05:00

I found God, on a blanket, on wet grass, in the midst of thousands of people, wiping away tears and looking up into a gorgeous lit up sky confronting my fears.

I found God, at my lowest low, unsure, afraid, broken. Something about laying on your back and looking up and being lost in a crowd, something about being so small in the grand scheme of things, when the last few weeks where everything in my life was so infinitely big and glaringly huge just comforted. Something about knowing, knowing that my God had me, that my God was going to take care of me, that my God had a plan and that this was part of the plan. That my God had not left, that my God had not forsaken me, that my God was right beside me carrying me....something about that night, and that day, something clicked.

And perhaps it was the band, or maybe it was just because I love love love fireworks. Perhaps it was because this, this festival had been a constant in my life in Springfield, a tradition. My favorite part of the year, and my favorite celebration in Springfield. First as an international student, and the last time, as a wife. And I remember begging to go, campaigning to go weeks and months ahead. I remember, that year, all the things I did and had to do and I was angry and I was sad and I was heartbroken for this girl I didn't know anymore, and this girl that let herself be broken, and this girl that let someone else decide her happiness, and this girl that always asked how high instead of no.

And that year, 18 days after the moment where everything changed, I was determined. Determined to do this on my own, determined to get there even if I got lost, determined, even if I didn't know who I was and didn't know where I was going. Determined, in reclaiming, in taking back, in not letting this be another loss, another casualty, another thing to write off. Determined, to be in control.

Thank God for GPS.

Thank God for my mom who said nothing and everything by just being there.

And thank God for friends, who packed a blanket, a big hug, and pushed, and said, you can do this Racheal, you...YOU can do this.

Don't back out.

Don't get scared.

Don't say it's too hard, or that it's too much or whatever other excuse you're going to justify it with because you're scared.

Don't, don't because if you do, you lose.

You lose in a huge monumental way.

And it's way too early to throw in the towel, have faith, child, have faith.

It will all make sense and it will be something you will look back on someday and just know.

So, for the first time, I got to stay. I stayed until the lights went out and the last band played their last song. I stayed until the parking lot was mostly empty, and I had roasted corn and did whatever my little heart wanted to do. I stayed and had fun, I walked around, I got to go to the main area, I didn't have to sit in the parking lot in the car, stressed out, bribing. I got to listen to the bands, I got to actually see the stage more than a random pass-by get back to the car immediately.

And like so much before, it was eye-opening.

And the next year, the next year, I brought someone else.

The next year, we took a picture under the same arch from all the years before, a staple.

Except it was different.

This time around, I knew who I was, I knew where I was going, and I knew what I was made of.

This time around, I knew where God was, I knew what He could do, and I trusted in that faith completely.

This time around, instead of fighting or the silent treatment or the begging, I got to share an amazing experience with someone I loved. I got to relax and breathe and not worry about what the consequences would be. I didn't worry that he would be mad because there were so many people, I didn't have to apologize that there was such a ridiculous amount of traffic.

But more magical than that, we not only stayed, but we hung out in car, rolled down the windows, and just talked.

And this is why I know it is different this time around.

Because he is different.

Because I am different.

And no matter what we go through and no matter what we fight about, he won't happen again.

At first, I was so afraid, so sure, so tired of the same scene playing and replaying again, not realizing that every time before, I had only scratched the surface. That the yucky and pain and hurt had to happen, that the hard work had to be done, that the demons needed to be confronted and exorcised. That until I learned to talk about it, to acknowledge it, I would always be stuck on repeat.

And that is why I am grateful.

Because that first night, 18 days out, that was the night I learned to say me.

I choose me.

I pick me.

That was the night I learned to reclaim me.

That was the night I knew, for sure, that God had my back.

That was the night I had happy and grateful tears mixed in with the grief.

That was the night I learned to fight, fight harder than I had ever fought before and dig deep.

And this summer vacation, the journey, the reliving and retelling. The playback, the creation of new memories, the letting go, the returning. Of saying thank you, of saying look how far I've come, of saying, I did it. This summer vacation, a celebration of so much, of life, of being here, of just being.

This summer, this was part of the plan too.

In fact, this was the main reason my trip extended far far beyond what I was comfortable with into a two month break. Because this, this was important.

And so while it breaks my heart that it is over, it is also in some sense poetic.

Because this, this is the letting go.

This is the returning.

This is the closure, the tying up of old stories, the creating anew.

Goodbye I Love America, I will miss you, and I will always have so much love for all the experiences, but most of all, thank you.

Thank you for being there for me as a new international student.

Thank you for being there for me as a stepmother and as a wife.

Thank you for being there for me when my life was falling apart.

But most of all, thank you for being there for me when I learned how to laugh again.

In all the years, I never did find that watermelon stand.

But I did always find that spark of happy, that pure grin-so-hard-my-face-might-break, when the fireworks started.

"The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle."

~Anais Nin

Good.

2011-03-05T06:02:00.007-06:00

Tonight, I started charting out a tentative plan for our summer. And it is big, and huge, and special...it is a full circle, it is revisiting places where we have come from and redefining who we are and what we are made of and it is being able to make that journey together.

In these places, we will make new memories, and in these places, we will find closure to the past, and the forgotten stories, and remember the magic of being.

I have an interview with the Embassy on Tuesday. On Tuesday, I'll find out if they will issue me a visa, a non-immigrant visa. Because on Tuesday, I will give up my green card. On Tuesday, I will say, I am giving you back your American dream, and I am making a new one. A whole different kind of special, amazing, starry eyed, amazing things can happen if you just work hard and believe kind. I will say, thank you for taking me in, for helping me grow and for stretching my imagination and my heart, thank you for being a soft place to land for a while and thank you for the lessons on friendship and humanity and on love. But on Tuesday, I will also permanently make this home, on Tuesday I will put it on paper, on Tuesday, I will say, I choose Malaysia. And it makes my heart happy.

I had a moment the other day, filling out forms and deciding if New Orleans should be a part of this road trip and thinking about how I will be flying in on May 15 and it will be a special little girl's birthday. I was thinking about how it was March and how it would have been our anniversary and I was thinking about how I had to really stop and think about how long it's been. I had a moment, and then, the moment was over.

That's how it comes now, that's the face of grief when it is healed. It leaves scars, and every once in a while, when you rub it the wrong way, it hurts. And I think, some part of me will always be sad about the way things unfolded but scale tips a lot more towards the good now. And for that, I am so incredibly grateful.

So much has happened since I last wrote, there are things I want to document and write and put away for later, and there are things that I want to just keep for myself. The words and the feelings, it is a process, but I am in a good place.

Correction, I am in a very very good place.

I am so excited for this trip, a goodbye of sorts, and a beginning of another.

This, this feels good.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

"For last year's words belong to last year's language, and next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning."
~T.S. Eliot

Enough.

2011-01-22T09:25:00.009-06:00

I did something big. I took the first step, something I contemplated all week and a decision that has been brewing and manifesting and maturing for weeks and months and years, and today, I woke up, and just did it. I put on a cute dress and some fabulous earrings, and I just did it.

I didn't let the fact that I have no sense of direction or that I was scared or that I had about six hundred and seventy two excuses just hanging out in the back of my head stop me. And for that, I was proud. I was excited. I was energized and nervous but I had my game face on and damnit, I was going to do this.

I told maybe six people, I whispered it but I didn't want to make it a big deal. Not until I was sure, not until I signed the dotted line and not until it was a reality, I didn't say much, and so when I came home and told them the-big-thing-but-let's-pretend-it's-a-small-thing thing I did, the pride and love in their not-so-many-words-so-they-don't-freak-me-out, made my heart smile. Like fireworks, cloud nine, I am fucking awesome, smile.

I did it!

This year is so much about rising to the challenge and doing the things I think I cannot. It's believing in myself and believing in the journey. It's letting go of the fears and digging deep, holding on, and trusting that this is possible. That I am possible. That the me that I am so desperate to be is already here.

I am enough.

And I think that's the thing I've always struggled with. That's the part that I've always let life beat me down with, the what ifs, the could have beens, the should have beens. I love the safe and I love the you go ahead and I'll follow, I love the hold my hand and walk with me. But when we fell apart and when he didn't come back, I realized that all that's left that's holding me back is me.

I am all that's stopping me and if I don't try, if I don't believe, if I don't just start living, then I am never going to get there. Not even a little, not even halfway, but no where. I could wait and I could plan for the ideal and the perfect, but in the end, that is all that it is, a plan. A could have been, a should have been, a what if.

The big thing I did today? I did it for me and that was my thing, but I still missed him all the same.

I missed and I wished we were doing it together, and I wished things were so very different. The temptation is there to just crawl into a hole and lick my wounds but I cannot, I must not, because life goes on and the lesson is in learning to make the best damn lemonade life hands you.

And so that's what I'm doing. Making lemonade. Getting my Master's and setting up shop and meeting new people and trying new things. But it doesn't change the fact that today and last night especially, I missed him.

And some part of me is angry, and some part of me is heartbroken, and some part of me is sad and upset. But I'm not going to let those parts define me and I'm not going to let those parts eat me up or eat up the good. Because what we had was special, and it would be so easy to trash, so easy to play the blame game, so easy to say the yucky things people say when they're hurt.

But I won't.

He deserves more than that.

Today, was a big day,

and today, I missed him so incredibly much.

But the bigger picture, if I choose to embrace the alternate instead of a chocolate pudding woe is me pity party, is that today, I learned what I could do.

I learned that the me that I am, and the me alone, was enough.

And that,

that made today, a great day.

Mmmm...lemonade.

Sent from my iPhone

"Your heart just breaks, that's all. But you can't judge, or point fingers. You just have to be lucky enough to find someone who appreciates you."

~Audrey Hepburn

rachealkate.

2011-01-20T09:52:00.010-06:00

Making a plan, decisions, and the infinite possibilities, they stir my soul and tempt and call. They scream pick me! pick me! pick me! They scream choices, choices, choices. They scream dream, dream, dream!

They scream, dream, of future of doing what I love and being open to the paths of the unknown and letting go. Growing, shaping, molding and twisting to break new ground, of hope, of exciting new adventures in a life I never imagined.

Of investing, of growing a career that was once just a whisper but is fast forwarding into a reality. Of color and pretty things, of mine and going to bat, of standing up and speaking out.

Taking place, it is all taking place, sometimes too fast and sometimes not fast enough. Learning, believing, having faith, holding on to the light.

Humbled with words of wisdom, sometimes a gentle push and other times a shove into going out of my comfort zone.

In awe and amazed at the God and rockstar ways everything has unfolded. Even the chronically optimist, half-full, life is unexpectedly beautiful, believer in me couldn't have planned this. This, this series of events have slowly unfolded to reveal and give peeks of something so much more. Retrospect is a brilliant and comforting thing, the surreal wonder in knowing that somehow I stumbled and clawed through into gaining these tools and building blocks is kinda crazy and insane.

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

An aha moment.

I can do this, I can do all of this, if I just believe.

Work on it Racheal, work on being, work on achieving, work on imagining, and build on it.

Do.

Sometimes, the hardest part is just taking the first step, and the perseverance of all the subsequent steps after.

A big thing, a defining moment. Sink or swim.

And this week and the week before and this month and this year and everything has been about this. About finding myself, about finding my passions, about letting go, about living life loud and proud and with no regrets. About not settling for good but going for magic.

Because it is in me, it is in me to make do and be content with good, or it is in me to fight, work hard, claw, go to bat for great.

And so I'm trying. I'm picking up pieces, hushing fears, taking chances, leaping.

I am moving forward, finding strength and courage and saying fuck yes.

So many things in the planning stages, so much setting up and groundwork, putting things into place to build a foundation. Tethering between not rushing but not holding back. I do that, I'm a planner and I love the safe and I double-check and triple-check, and sometimes, I talk myself out of things just because of the fear of failure bites me in the ass.

But when I am not, when I believe and when I have a little faith, magic happens. I look back and I see all the times I have just leapt before looking, I see that pure determination and will and no is not an answer and that passionate raw energy and I am grateful.

Somehow, God made me this way. Flawed, somewhat OCD, careful, but also strong, passionate, determined. God made me who I am, and I can choose to beat me down or I can choose to just embrace.

I think that's what v 2.11 is all about, embracing, enhancing, encouraging, but most of all, v 2.11 is about making magic.

About confronting the fears head on, about breaking or making it, about trying then trying again, about going out of comfort zones and having no regrets about life, about holding on and really living this one crazy beautiful perfect awesome life.

Despite everything.

Yes, that's it, despite everything.

I will choose to just dream.

But more than that, I will choose to act on it.

To leap.

To say,

I'm ready, God.

"Hello World."

Sent from my iPhone

"Courage is tiny pieces of fear all glued together."

~Terri Guillemets

breathe.

2011-01-10T12:01:00.009-06:00

I’m afraid of the crash, the inevitable crash that will come when my heart understands the hard decision my head made. The right decision, the needed decision, the justified, at-peace, honest decision I made.

I broke someone’s heart today, today I chose me. Today I chose my needs, today I chose to say that this wasn’t enough, that what we had and where our relationship was taking us, wasn’t enough. Today, I let an incredible, amazing, genuine, real, man-of-my-dreams, check-off-my-list, man go. Today, I realized and read and read and read again and again my words and knew, in my gut and in my soul, that this was the best decision for us right now. That despite everything, despite the soul-crushing, devastating, change in path and hurt, hurt, hurt, that this will cause, that I let someone amazing go because I needed to go find my light. Because I needed to believe in myself. Because I needed to believe in my dream.

I only have words, only a list of needs and wants, only a gut feeling of needing to walk away because this is not something I can fix. Not something I can control or organize, as much as I so desperately want to, we are both not where we need the other to be.

I need to get him. And I don’t, and I didn’t, until a friend played devil’s advocate and explained and explained the whys and the hows. I saw, and understood, and I get that he’s trying and he does have every good intention, I just needed him to be able to explain it to me. I needed him to be able to tell me all those things. I needed to connect, to find calm in the middle of the storm, to get on the same page, to communicate, to be heard, to be understood...with him.

And it is knowing that we can’t do that together, not at this point in time, that I am at peace with this decision. As hard as it is, it is knowing that we are very different people in very different stages of our lives with very different ways of handling things that we are missing each other. That we’re just not working.

But I will say, I will go to bat, I will fight and tell you it was all real. The love, the love was always real. And there’s a part of me that’s going to miss him so incredibly much, a side of my bed that will be empty, and an eight feet tall shower head, or a glass of sweet tea that will make my heart hurt for him. I know, that there are times that I will so desperately wish that we made it, that we worked it out, that we met in the middle and lived happily ever after. And I will grieve the future we hoped for, I will grieve all the things we wanted and our life that we had imagined.

I will grieve again and again.

And when it’s over, and when I am scared and panicked and alone, I will work on getting back up and doing it all over again. I will work on doing the hard work and staying true to myself and being honest. I will work on learning to be a better person, a better girlfriend, a better friend.

I will work on being the best that I can be.

And maybe he will too.

And maybe someday, we’ll meet again.

And maybe someday, it’ll work out then.

Breathe.

---

"It was my fault too. Did I remember to tell you that? Well, it was. I had a hand in this, I played a part in this, this falling out, this breaking apart, this choice. I had a part in it, and it was my fault too.

I got scared too.

I miss you already. I miss the parts of you that was so much a part of me. I miss the parts of you that I didn't even realize were there. I miss the parts of you that was a part of my past, my present, my future. I miss the wishes, and hopes, and dreams that was you, that was us, that was ours. I miss you.

And some part of me, the part of me that believes in fairy tales and happily ever afters, the part of me that loves chick flicks and happy endings, the part of me that is naive and silly and gets me into trouble, that part, that part wishes you came back.

That part wishes you said, I get it. I get it and I get you and I understand.

That part wishes you said, fuck no, we can do this, we can do us, and I believe us, and even if it's all kinds of crazy and hard and insane we're going to keep fighting anyway. I'm going to keep fighting anyway.

That part wishes you could be the man beneath all the layers of safe and guarded.

Because this part misses you. and this part realizes that you had everything in the world to be the one. You had all the things I needed and all the things I wanted buried deep within, I just needed you to take a chance, to trust me, to let go.

I just needed you to take a leap of faith.

So that, that is why we can't be together.

Because I'll always be here and you'll always be there. I'll always want something more and you'll always be happy to just be still.

The more I push, the more you'll pull back, the more I'm scared, the more you'll scare me, the more I'll need you, the more you'll disappear.

And in the back of my mind, in the whispers of my soul, I wish that someday you'll find me. I wish that someday, you'll grow and learn and get brave, and you'll be here, and we will be unstoppable.

That years from now, after all this soul searching and imbalance and questioning is over, when we're more confident, more sure, more certain of who we are, what we want in life, and where we want to be, that we will find each other.

Because I see so much in you, I see the gentle and the kind and the real, I see the honest and the scared, scared, scared, and the stubborn and all the could be's.

But I can't live in a world of could be's.

Could be's get me in trouble.

I need the right now, my head knows this, my reality knows this.

I know it.

I just wish it was all so so different. "

"[A] final comfort that is small, but not cold: The heart is the only broken instrument that works."

~T.E. Kalem

Speaking out.

2011-01-03T20:57:00.004-06:00

It's the things that I have no words for or the things that I struggle to give words to. It's the stuff I want to brush aside and throw a big, huge, heavy carpet over and pretend it is not there. It is that heavy silence of a white elephant in the room and the awkward tension that fizzles and cracks and pops right along it. It is our fears and our hurt feelings and our expectations all colliding together in a whirlpool of highly charged emotions with no outlet battling against each other. It is the love that lies underneath it all that screams out loud to be heard and it is that love that stops us from finding our words and saying the hard and doing the hard. Because it is that love and the fear of hurt feelings and the fear of confrontation that pulls us back from where we would so very like to be.

And so we do this dance of pretending and side-stepping and praying, hoping, wishing, so desperately that this too shall come to pass, and this too will work itself out. Faking it until you make it except it is a cacophony of noises and missed connections and lives slipping by and living separate lives.

I struggle, to keep the balance, keep afloat. Because deep down inside, I know, that this is not where I wanted to be, this, this is not the me that I wanted to be. I wanted to be real, I wanted to be honest, I wanted to live the life I had imagined and build those relationships and find those relationships and never settle, never settle, never settle.

So you take deep breaths, and suck in all the fake courage you can muster and the words come spilling, spilling out. And suddenly you find yourself in a tidal wave of words and fears and hurt feelings and expectations all rushing, fighting, pushing and battling it out to just come out. Tell your truth.

But you're afraid, oh god, you're so very afraid, of losing the person, of severing not mending the relationship, of saying too much or not at all or not being so coherent or patient or gentle or tactful like you wanted to be because as always, when emotions get thrown into the mix, it all gets a little messy.

There's a strong part in you, the part that craves for stability and order, the part that craves to be safe and secure, the part that craves for black and white, that just wants this to just be sterile and white washed and organized. Emotionless, heartless, stay disconnected because disconnected people don't get hurt. Stay focused, be hard on yourself, find those checklists, and for godsakes, quit going by your gut and your heart and by how you feel.

But there's the other part, the lining of your soul that whispers, get dirty, get mad, be passionate, love, love, love. The part that takes all these battle wounds and say look at these scars, I mean really, look at them...they are beautiful and they are yours and they make you, you. These scars speak of amazing lessons learned and of courage and strength. These scars are the depths of your soul fighting fighting fighting to be true, to bask in the light, to be authentic and honest and real. These scars are an adoption into an inner circle of compassion and love, forgiveness and peace, kindness and grace. So live, for godsakes, live and don't fear the scars. Live and let go. Let go. Let go.

Love.

"Do work with all your heart and you will succeed."

~Elbert Hubbard

Soul food.

2011-01-03T11:17:00.014-06:00

Worked on the decals in my room on New Year's day, a reminder that Life is Beautiful.

I remember why I came home, and I remember why this is so hard. I remember the lessons, I remember the little things, I remember to breathe.

And sometimes, it's so very hard. Especially when you least expect it. Because grief does that, it hits you unexpectedly and repeatedly, it sucks the air out of your lungs and suddenly, you're afraid, you're hurting, you're scared, you're devastated...all over again. It's hard to tell your heart the things your head knows. Like to be gentle with yourself, to forgive, to accept, to allow, to not beat yourself up for this moment of vulnerability.

To whisper, that it's okay to cry. Let go.

Embrace the moment, the hard parts, the parts that will break you but make so much more room to grow.

I thought I had the holidays in the bag, a ninja warrior, this time, this year, it would be different.

Because that was nineteen months ago. And all the healing, all the love, all the grace...surely, surely that would be enough.

It's the part where I have to let go of what and where I thought would be and embracing what it is, that is the hardest.

I grieve that dream.

Because I was so sure, so sure before it all happened that I knew exactly where I was heading and where I would be.

It was a video, of a little blonde girl opening up her presents on Christmas day that did it.

It was a new year, the looking back and the pressure to move forward that sucked me into that murky place of the unknown. The possibility, the insecurities, the desperate hope.

It was hard conversations of honest raw emotions and confronting the ugly.

It was saying, I am going to do better...and then actually having to do it. Having to speak out.

Of change, of having to say I will not be complacent and I will not be quiet about it, I will not hide, I will not pretend it's okay when it's not, I will not let it all happen again.

I will not let him happen again.

For so long after it happened, the intense emotion that kept on replaying and the thought bubble that screamed again and again was just the feeling of having felt so violated and that I let it happen.

And I was so angry, so angry and devastated and heartbroken for so long that when I moved to this place of forgiveness and healing and love, it was like night and day.

I could finally see what I so desperately longed to see.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

Friends are like soul food and I am so thankful, so grateful for the opportunities and the friendships and the people that help me find my center again.

The people that don't make me feel stupid for crying about feeling so incredibly vulnerable or heartbroken for the dreams that didn't pan out or for the life that I didn't live.

I am grateful for "the circle of no judgement".

I am grateful for honesty.

Even the brutal kind.

But most of all, I'm just grateful that I am here. Accepting. Acknowledging. Processing.

"Live! Don't settle! Grieve."

They are the voices in my head that fight back with love when I am at my least.

The ones that make me believe that I can do it.

I can do this. I can do this living and healing and moving on.

I can forgive and let go and stand up and fight back.

I can challenge the scared parts of me that want the easy and the comfortable and the lets-just-please-settle.

Thank you for listening to me process and whine and figure it out, even if the six hundred and seventy second time you've heard me.

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined."

~Henry David Thoreau

Waiting outside the lines.

2010-12-20T09:17:00.013-06:00

I've played this six thousand times. It is such a beautiful rendition and makes my soul feel all these things that I have no words for. Only tears, only affirmation, only the courage and strength to silence the six thousand and seventy two fears.

Holidays are hard and magical all at the same time. The closing of another chapter, another year, and I have learned so much. 2010 has been incredible, 2010 has been so special and crazy and absolutely terrifying but more than anything, 2010 was filled with healing, with love, with forgiveness.

There are many many lessons. Lessons that my words won't do justice, but that need to be reaffirmed. To be said out loud, to be reminded at a later date in time of how incredibly special this year was.

2009 was filled with so much heartache and devastation, 2009 was painful and scary and a constant land mine of emotions and shock and all the hard, hard, difficult things. 2009 gave birth to 2010 and was the catharsis, the yucky that needed to happen.

I don't know that I will ever want to relive 2009 again but yet I also know that I am thankful that it happened. I am grateful for all the things I discovered and learned in 2009, about myself, about the amazing people around me, about the sometimes yucky parts of life and people, about faith and heartache, about how you can love a child and the lengths that that love will take you to fiercely protect like your own. I learned that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can fail. I learned that sometimes marriages aren't forever and sometimes, bad things just happen. I learned humility, I learned to be humble, I learned to say "I don't know".

But 2010? 2010 I learned to laugh again. To feel joy in my soul, to be at peace in my heart. I learned to be still, to listen, to be okay with exactly where I was at. I learned to really appreciate all the little things, the little wins, the little moments, the little details that are so easy to look over.

I learned to forgive, I learned that grieving is a process not a destination, I learned to live again. To live loud, to live proud, to live without regrets. I learned what it meant to live so you can be proud of who you are at the end of the day and the decisions and choices you made.

I learned to leap, to stand by faith and sometimes, even when it was only on faith alone. I learned to love genuinely and make relationships that matter, that count. I learned to value my friendships and and my family in a whole new different light, I learned that what you say and how you make someone feel matters.

But more than that I learned to embrace me, the ugly the yucky the good. I learned things about myself I didn't know and I learned things about myself that I didn't want to know. I learned about "the hardwork", I learned about resolution, I learned about reclaiming. I learned to love me. To choose me. To pick me.

I learned that choosing to love myself didn't make me selfish or a horrible person.

I learned that choosing to love myself made me a better lover, a better friend, a better daughter, a better child of God.

I learned to let someone in again, to differentiate fears and gut feelings, to differentiate mistakes and not letting your baggage get in the way of life. I learned to say I don't know everything and I learned to be okay with it, I learned to be a partner, I learned to be a friend, I learned to say please respect me and my choices, please respect my body and who I am, I learned to say please fight fair. I learned to make healthier choices and to work it out. I learned to say these are the things that I need from you and these are the things that I want, I learned to say these are the things I can work with and these are the things I can't. I learned big incredible lessons sometimes come in tiny packages. Like stinky moisturizer.

I learned that I didn't need to change who I was in order to be loved.

I didn't need to silence myself or change the way I dressed or looked or my beliefs.

I learned that there was so much to be learned in being still.

So thank you 2010, for teaching me to be patient. For teaching me to wait outside the lines, to observe, to see the rainbow after the storm. The bigger picture.

To leap.

I'm waiting outside the lines, but more than that, I've had more courage, more inspiration, more self-believe than ever in 2010 to say, I can do it. I can do this and I can be me and I can dream.

I can dream.

Mistakes.

2010-12-19T09:59:00.010-06:00

I hate making mistakes....a saving grace, a comfort, knowing that there is a lesson to be learned in all of this, to know better the next time, to make a better choice, to pick the right choice.

Perhaps that is the theme in everything that I do now, the current that lies beneath all these decisions and thought process is to do it right, pick a choice that I can stand behind, make decisions that I can be proud of, and know, with absolute certainty, that it was right and justified and I can find the peace and happy in my soul with that decision.

It is that little voice, that darn bloody little voice that whispers, that nags, that pokes when you've done something not quite right that is the hardest to silence.

I didn't rob, didn't kill, didn't steal.

I forgot to show kindness. I forgot to show love. I forgot to show and I'm embarrassed. Because that ignorance, that pride, that judgement, that was not me.

I chose to fit in instead of speaking out.

So next time, I'll know better.

Next time, I'll do better.

And next time, I will stand by the things I know, by the values I prescribe to and be the person I am meant to be.

I was selfish.

And that word rolls off my tongue with grit and I am so ashamed.

Why?

2010-12-01T11:33:00.005-06:00

I've been having a really hard time, it's the holidays..and there's something about the holidays that just hurt so much. I am heartbroken, at times, it feels like I am exactly where I started. Betrayed, angry, hurt, overwhelmed, looking for answers, trying to fix it all. I hurt, something kinda crazy tonight. Everything, every memory, every intense feeling, and every sliver of hurt assaults again and again and again. Dear God, please. Please, please, please, make it be over.

I stumbled across an old video while packing, it was a video my extended family made of wedding wishes. There is so much love in that video, there is so much good and awesome and beautiful and sweet in that video. People ask me why? Why move back? See here, see this happy, fun-loving, incredibly special family? That's why.

Listening.

2010-11-28T09:11:00.007-06:00

I want to hit pause and fast forward and rewind all at the same time.

Writing out six hundred and forty Christmas cards, a labor of love, but more than that, love letters of gratitude and best wishes. Wishing kick ass, laughter-filled, make your heart burst, awesome, loving, blessed Christmases and a fantastic, better-than-amazing, 2011 ahead.

Hand written, because real mail in a mail box is just special.

:)

Remembering, reminding, reminiscing. An ache, a longing, an overwhelming gratefulness for the way things have unfolded and the ends that have become of the means.

Too overwhelmed last year for cards, too caught up and in the thick of things. Too raw, too painful, too crazy to even put words onto paper when everything was still so surreal. Ready, and proud. I sign off, one less last name, without a hyphen. I have found my identity again, I know who I am now. I know who I am as Racheal. Not Racheal, Jarrod's wife, or M's stepmom, or Carol and Peter's daughter, or Daniel's sister. I know who Racheal is.

I know who I am without the hyphen.

And that, that is kinda amazing and kick ass all at the same time.

Be consistent. Be true to yourself. Be honest. Be real.

So many conversations in the last couple of weeks that have reinforced this again and again and again. Good is happening, stay faithful, stay true to yourself. Believe. Know who you are and hold on so incredibly tight to that. Be open to lessons, to change, to the twists and turns, but stand tall, stand proud, claw, grab on, to your soul, your strength, your light.

Do the hardwork. Do the hardwork and it will pay off. It will pay off when you aren't looking, it will pay off when you don't know how to measure it, it will pay off when you look back and you realize, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit...look how far I've come. Look back, and see, that broken, that shattered, that lost, hurting, girl and see the woman that has grown from it. Look back, and realize, this didn't just happen, this wouldn't have happened without the hard work, so persevere. So be consistent. So do the hardwork.

Dream.

For so long, I held my breath, afraid that this would be a house of cards. Afraid that if I started dreaming, if I acknowledged all the amazing, if I started charting out hopes and wishes that it might all fall apart, that I might get my hopes up and be devastated again. Afraid that if I moved, if I let myself stray and dreamt at all that I might screw it all up. Afraid that dreaming would mean that I would lose focus on the right now, on the hard bits, thinking that maybe the dreaming would just come later, much much later. In that strange faraway place of healing and healthy.

Dreaming.

Dreaming of a future.

Longing.

Of things that I find so incredibly hard to say out loud.

Like of being a mom again.

Or a wife.

And as soon as I say that, I want to take it all back.

I want to erase.

I want to deny.

I want to pretend that that is not a want.

Afraid.

Scared.

And it is because of this fear that I know that I need to keep on trucking. Keep on depositing into my "healthy" bank. Keep on doing the hardwork.

Because it is when I am not afraid anymore, when I am able to say it out loud, when I am able to talk about it and process it out loud, that I will be ready. That I will know that the hard work has paid off.

The hard work, the kind where you confront all your fears and face them head on. The kind where you dig up all the sludge and wade through the muck. The kind where you throw yourself into that dark sinkhole of insecurities and fears, of mistakes and regrets, of failures and disappointments. It is that hard work, where the past gets regurgitated again and again and it hurts and it sucks and it makes you want to throw up for hours. It is the hard work where you have no control, no idea where the "hard work" will take you, only hanging on by a thread, a thread of hope, a thread of knowing that no matter how backwards, no matter how many steps you slide towards the wrong direction, that this will pound and break and scar but this will also open and unlock a whole new you. A whole new different kind of whoop ass happy.

And the pride, the assurance, the gratitude when you have conquered that fear, will be overwhelming. The success tangible in everything that you do. The way you think, the way you interact, your relationships, your friendships. The way you view the world, and the way you view yourself.

This journey has taught me so much, forgiveness, kindness, compassion. Humility, acceptance, loyalty.

We move in this week. The parallels of building a home, the piecing of the little things to form the big picture is a metaphor hard to ignore. The taps and tiles and kitchen and switches you picked weeks and months ago with a vague hazy picture in your head have become a reality as you see it all come together. Some look better than in your head, some just makes your heart smile and some, just didn't work at all. But you have learned, and you will know better the next time.

You learn, a simple lesson on happy.

Pick things that make you happy, pick things that make your heart smile, pick things that make a positive impact.

Be patient.

Don't rush into it, don't rearrange your thoughts and force yourself into liking something you do not love, don't mold and remold it and work so hard to change your gut, stay true to yourself, listen.

Bare, is a whole lot better than junk.

Learn to not give up. Learn to be passionate. Learn to persevere.

Good things come to those that wait.

Be faithful.

And I've stop talking about the house.

It's life.

Because sometimes, you should just get the chandelier.

Life is better with some sparkle and sometimes, you should use the fine china on regular days.

Just because.

Because life is special and precious and you get this one life. This one amazing, beautiful, crazy life.

Live loud, live proud, live real.

Live.

Don't make the same mistakes again, don't take this chance to do it all over again and not listen.

"[The void] It's that place in our lives where what we've been hanging onto . . . clinging to for dear life . . . is stripped away. It's that place in us where we let go of what we know, what we think we know, and what we want and surrender to the unknown. It is the place of saying and meaning, 'I don't know.' It means standing there with our hands empty for a while, sometimes watching everything we wanted disappear; our self image, our definition of who we thought we should be, the clones we've created of ourselves, the people we thought we had to have, the things we thought were so important to collect and surround ourselves with, the job we were certain was ours, the place we thought we'd live in all our lives. . . Surrender control to the supreme wisdom and authority of God and to the Divine in your soul. Step into the void with courage. Learn to say, I don't know. That's not blind faith. It's pure faith that will allow God and your spirit to lead you wherever your soul wants and needs to go."

-Melody Beattie

Inspired.

2010-11-24T09:15:00.009-06:00

This week has been special...and I know that no matter how hard I try to, my words will never do all the moments that was this week justice.

I was inspired, I was challenged, I was pushed.

I was hiding, I was scared, I was taking a step back just to breathe.

I was working through my demons, my fears, my complacency...to just stay in my comfort zone, to just say, I did the hard work, see this, and see that, I did it...so you know, I get a free pass for a while, just to do nothing. To stay in the "safe" zone, to not have to do that "hard parts", to not have to work through.

But this week taught me such important lessons,

the most of all,

you've come too far, worked too hard, lost too much, and loved too much to just do nothing.

to backslide.

to just be okay.

to settle.

Don't settle, Racheal.

Don't.

Get out there, live your dreams, believe.

"Real breakthroughs happen because someone is scared to death to stop trying"

- Grey’s Anatomy

(I) Care Packages.

2010-11-15T12:16:00.008-06:00

I have pictures, from the weekend where my whole life fell apart. I have snapshots of moments forever caught in time, smiles, looks, pure joy and happiness, sunshine. I have pictures, as a proud proud stepmother, I have pictures, as a proud, proud wife. I have these pictures, of a family, that I vaguely yet intensely recall.

Christmas, year two. Will it always be like this? Does the grief somehow end or slowly fades away to when you stop counting everything as before, or after?

I asked permission today, if I could send a card, a gift in the mail.

But tell me, how do you put so much love and so many hopes and wishes and dreams into a card? How do you find the gift that simply just says I love you.

You are, and will always be, my first child. Not from my flesh, not from my womb, but from my heart. Somewhere, where love grew, you were born.

I remind myself that you are matured beyond your years. You get it, even if you don't quite know the words, or have the specific conscience to figure it all out, you know. You are beautiful, but more than that, you are smart. And you know how this game works, the rules, the complicated twists and turns, the complexity of needing a father and forgetting the hurts.

"I knew it, I knew it!" you said.

and in that one sentence, I was relieved but my whole heart shattered and broke and crumbled.

All the things, all the prayers, all the wishes and dreams of all the things that I hope you would never had to experience, all the things I wanted to fiercely protect you from.

In five years and even when it ended, I did everything the best way I knew how to, the best way I understood it to be.

My biggest fear, is that if you ever question if I loved you at all.

I chose, to step away. I chose, to let him have his say. I chose, to let him tear me apart, poison you with lies, remove every ounce of me in your life, and forbid you to say my name. I chose, because I didn't want you to have to choose.

I wanted to protect you, I wanted to shield you from all the nasty, from all the heartache, from all the yucky that we had become.

I let you think and believe all the things that your father told you, and yet it blows my mind that you knew.

And that is why my heart broke.

Because this, this wasn't just my story. This is the story of his life, his life that is completely intertwined with yours. I am not the first stepmom, nor the last.

You deserve, so much better, and so much more.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

We are all moving on in separate directions, carving out our futures of happily ever after. I wish nothing but the best for you, I wish you all the sunshine and happiness and rainbows.

Do I get moments where I desperately crave for just one more day, just one more hour, one more chance before our whole lives changed...just so I could sit you down and tell you just exactly how much you meant to me and how loved and wanted you are.

My fear, my biggest scares-me-out-of-my mind fear, is the thought of you ever questioning that. The thought of you questioning if I care, or if I loved you, or if you meant enough to me.

So that is why, I slap my thick skin on and ask your mom if it's okay, I put up with his harassing calls, and I send you a card. On your birthday and Christmas.

A card that says all the things I cannot. A care package, that has so much love in it, and a care package that I hope tells you just how incredibly much you are loved.

And the other days, I walk away. I let go, I let life take over and pray she loves you more than I do, I pray this lasts forever, I pray you don't get lost in the shuffle.

I had to grieve this loss, among all the other losses, in order to move on. In order to get to a better place, a happy place. I had to come to terms that I would never know, and that I would never have just that five more minutes. There was no more looking back, only forward.

So once in a while, a random memory pops up, and a little part of my heart smiles and hurts all in the same breath.

Or I accidentally catch a glance at an old album of us.

And sometimes, I take the time to flip through it, let a random tear and laugh escape or two, wish you well, be so stinking proud of you, but always, I have to close the chapter. I have to let go. I have to move on.

I love you M, hope you're so so good.

I miss you so incredibly much.

This picture and the ear-to-ear grin of you opening this year's birthday care package? So completely worth it.

"Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies."

- Mother Teresa

Hurt.

2010-11-11T07:39:00.004-06:00

I carry scars from ym past, and some are healed over but every once in a while, they get viciously split open and reexamined.

Tonight, I feel so incredibly scarred. I feel like the reject pile, I feel the "not good enough" and the "not worth it" come out, I feel the hurt and the anger as I am judged, I feel my shield of courage and experience crack under pressure.

I am a divorced woman. I can't change that. I can't change that I went through an extremely traumatic experience that is something you can't just shake off. I carry with me so many scars and so many wounds that are slowly, very slowly healing. But it isn't fair, it isn't fair to compare or to judge or to say I should be at a certain place when I am not. I am not ready, I am still healing, I am still a work in progress.

It is not fair for someone else to say that I am not committed to a relationship because I don't want to be married Right. Now. I don't want to be married because that terrifies me, I don't want to be married because we're not ready yet, I don't want to be married because we just started dating, and we're still learning to communicate, to be each other's person, to build a foundation. I don't want to be married because I don't want to walk down an aisle unsure, afraid, scarred. I want to be happy, I want to be at peace, I don't want to feel like I was forced into that decision. I don't want to feel like this might be a mistake.

How do I explain that these feelings, these exact myriad of feelings are things I have to work through, things I have to work on, for myself, for our relationship, for any hope of a happily ever after. These feelings? These feelings don't just go away all because you love someone or because you are committed to them. Those are separate things....I need this time to know that when we do get married, I am at peace, I am happy, and I know that this is the best decision I'll ever make in my life but more than that, when I walk down the aisle, I don't even think of this except for how incredibly happy and blessed and excited I am for that moment.

How do you explain this to someone that doesn't understand? How do I not feel judged, not feel like the core of who I am is being questioned or that I just need time? How do I say, give me a chance, give us a chance, this relationship. This is between him and me and I get your good intentions, I understand that all you're trying to do is to fiercely protect the ones that you love but this? This questioning, this assuming, these talks? They hurt me.

They hurt us.

I know I make him happy and I know he makes me happy. I know that there's also so much that we both don't know. I know that we are both committed to this, I know that we're trying, we're buckling down and trying our hardest to make this work. To make us work. I know that there are ups and downs and the distance sometimes complicates things. I know, I know, I know, but it isn't fair, it isn't fair to me, it isn't fair to him, it isn't fair to us or yourself if you assert your thoughts on how we should feel or what we should do. This is, in the end, a relationship between him and me. We rely on our family to support us, we rely on our family to be people that we can count on as sounding boards, we rely on our families to play devil's advocate. I get that, I understand that, but please understand to that as you do that, I get caught in the middle. I get my feelings hurt, I am sensitive and when you pass judgement on who I am that what I am made of and the way that I feel, I am insulted...but more than that, I feel betrayed.

I am not asking you to not protect, I am merely asking you to not judge. Not impose what you think he should or should not do but please let the poor boy make his own decisions. Those decisions, are his to make. I want him to consider absolutely everything and anything, I can only tell him how I feel and where I stand and where my decisions lie, but I cannot force him to pick what I choose. It isn't fair, it isn't fair to him or me or us. It isn't fair to our relationship now or our relationship later.

I need him to be 100%, either way.

So please, tell him how you feel, but don't assume, and don't force him, don't play the "I'm disappointed" card...you've earned a right to but it doesn't mean that it is the right thing to do.

Quiet.

2010-11-10T10:11:00.004-06:00

I've been neglecting this place, not on purpose, not consciously, life just gets in the way you know?

I've been trying to live life, live it loud, live it proud, live it to the fullest extent that I know how to, remembering to be grateful, remembering to soak in all the lessons, remembering to be in the moment.

There are so many times, a really neat thing happens, and I think to myself, I should blog about that. I should blog about that because I want a permanent reminder of this, I process best when I am writing through my thoughts but more than that, I want to remember, what I felt, what happened, the details, months and years from now when it is all just a hazy blur. I want to remember, the good and the bad. I want to be reminded.

Tomorrow.

2010-09-27T14:42:00.008-05:00

I've had so many reminders lately, of what it's like to come out on the other side, of what it's like to be in the thick of things, of what it's like to deal with raw, painful, grief and not have the words. I've journeyed back to dark places, to lonely places of confrontation and reflection, to silent places of contemplation and being at peace. I have learned, and I will continue to learn, but these lessons take my breath away. Sometimes I just can't breathe it is suffocating and overwhelming and sometimes in complete and absolute awe.

I've always had a problem with insomnia. Always had a problem with not sleeping and not being able to get to sleep. Too busy, too much thinking, too much going on, too much to do. My mind processes and processes and goes and goes until I am flat out exhausted and finally ready to pass out. I hate this.

I hate these 3am conversations with myself confronting the yucky. Confronting the sad. Confronting the messy and the ugly and the hard.

I miss my therapist. I miss the safety of having an hour to dump all these uncohesive thoughts onto someone else's lap and walk out with it all organized into pretty little boxes. I miss the security of having a check and balance. Of knowing that no matter where your mind takes you, that there is someone keeping watch, someone checking, someone making sure that this, this is where you need to be. That this is healthy. That is right.

Because it's hard. Oh my lord is it hard and painful and difficult and mind numbing. I confront demons that are intense and ugly and painful. I confront demons that seem to rise up again and again throwing up old fears and taking shape in different forms. I confront but yet sometimes it seems never ending and exhausting.

I cry in the middle of the night, missing my friends, missing my boyfriend, missing a little girl and grieving again the could have beens and the changes and the changes and the changes. I cry, overwhelmed, unsure, scared, lonely. I cry, not knowing what to say.

I cry, and I journal, and I blog.

I cry, and somehow, it makes it all okay again.

And I can breathe.

And I can focus.

And I can say

I(t) will be better tomorrow.

"Every day is a new beginning. Treat it that way. Stay away from what might have been, and look at what can be."

--Marsha Petrie Sue

Working in the thick of things.

2010-09-21T09:52:00.015-05:00

I remember, in the thick of things, wanting everything to just make sense. I remember just desperately begging, for healing, for understanding, for forgiveness. I remember the wounds that were so raw and the hurt that was so unfathomable, I remember thinking, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit....please please let this not be real. Please let this be a bad dream. Please let me wake up wake up wake up.

I listened to an old playlist tonight, of songs that made sense and comforted. Songs that said all the things I needed to say but didn't know how to say at that time. Isn't it beautiful how music does that? How it transports you to a moment in time and you remember all the little details, all the emotions and the thoughts that played out. Isn't it beautiful how you can look back and measure the progress? Measure the healing, the beautiful, the awesome....all the little things that get overshadowed in the everyday.

These last two weeks have been incredibly rough. A hodge-podge of intense emotions that collided and made it hard to breathe. So many questions fueled by doubt and his good friend insecurity, so much sadness and grief, so much reality and tough choices.

I shared that bible verse they read at the funeral, because I remember holding so tightly to those exact words in the thick of things. I remember the hodge-podge of intense feelings then and the reminder, even then, to just be patient.

As soon as his granddaughter read the first verse, I knew I was in trouble. I knew that the armor of guarded emotions would fall apart, and there was no way I could hold my shit together till the privacy and safety of falling apart alone.

I think the worst feeling in the world is watching the people you love hurting, and feeling absolutely helpless. Grief, is just such a raw raw painful emotion. I hurt so incredibly much for a family that has lost their appa and for my parents that have lost a mentor.

It was that painful reminder of grief and how it felt in the thick of things to be grieving a huge loss. To grieve a husband, to grieve a child, to grieve 5 years of your life and the dreams and the future you built and believed in. To grieve as you're struggling to adjust to a new normal.

Moving and the funeral seems to have triggered these memories and it is hard to quite define it. This new normal, the grieving of everything that I knew, and everything that was "normal", the grieving of my friends and the relationships, the grieving of having a routine and knowing things, the grieving and adjusting. It's been hard, and if I was completely and totally honest with myself, I've been suppressing so much. Letting it all come to a boil, an emotional breakdown, but never really dealing with it. Wanting it to all be over, wanting to just pretend that everything is okay, wanting so desperately to pretend that I've gotten there...that secure safe place of the "new normal".

There's a lot of questioning in my world, a lot of boundaries undefined and uncertainty. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

I started a new job in a place I have called home for a long time. Publishing is in my blood, I have grown up at book conventions but to actually work in it is a whole new ball game. I struggle with the intense pressure that I put on myself and get frustrated when I am impatient with the progress that I am making. This is so incredibly exciting but it is also still very new. I can speak in pottery and paint code, but I only know every other word here if only because I've grown up picking up bits and pieces.

Having said that, the immense pride is immeasurable. I am so proud to be working for this company but more than that, I am so blessed to have found my place. There are a lot of technical things I'm still learning like how to transition from a Mac to a PC and how a book is published from step one to step six hundred and fifty two. What constitutes a good book cover or a best seller, how the numbers work and how to design a successful product sheet. These things, they overwhelm me at times. I get lost in the shuffle and sometimes, I am embarrassed to ask the stupid questions like how do I change the margins on a Windows document again?

But the love? The love and support is tangible. It is real and felt and when I am not being oblivious to it, and when I remember to look at the little things, I see it. I see it and it is beautiful.

Being in a long distance relationship is hard. We're trying to work through it. Trying to figure out where we stand, where our relationship stands, and trying to remember to just stop and breathe. There are so many things you don't even know you fear, and don't even know you're affected by until it happens. There are things that are so much harder to work out when you're six hundred thousand miles apart. Sometimes, the distance makes us lose the parts that make 'us' special.

We somehow grow apart and stop connecting, grasping at straws, struggling to make our individual "new normals" work. Desperately craving for the independence, the ability to do this, wanting so badly to be able to make it. I think that we might have lost our focus.

It's hard.

And even as I struggled with all the fears from the past coming back to bite me so hard in the ass, I denied, and I ignored, and I refused to talk about it, acknowledge it. We refused to talk about our fears, collectively. His fears about moving to an unknown country and leaving everything he has ever known behind, his fears that became so much more scarier as I struggled battling through my transitions, as I battled through adjusting and fitting in and if it was so hard for me, a Chinese Malaysian going home then holy shit holy shit holy shit.

My fears of reminders everywhere of a relationship that completely crashed and burned and wanting so desperately to prevent that from ever happening again. My fears that broke open so many scars and highlighted them. My fears as I struggled to fit in, to find my place in the world again. My fears that caved in to all my insecurities that slowly crept and crept and crept to the surface.

My fears and his that we suppressed and tried, tried, tried, to pretend it wasn't there. Because it's the things we can't talk about, the what ifs, the what nows, the gray.

And the pressure, the insurmountable insane pressure. As he tries to sell all of his things, as he puts his house, his first house he bought with savings from college and a last gift from grandpa. His loved but worn around the edges home and is told to put a value on it. Is told to rip out the tiles and repaint the walls and change the deck and as they rip apart his home to put a "value" on it he sees more of his hard worked savings disappear into this rabbit hole of necessary invisible expenses.

But that isn't even the hard part, the hard part is saying goodbye to your girlfriend and having to create a new normal, a new routine, out of the same place. It is the loneliness that comes with the empty side of a bed, or the quiet of a house without the laughter of a partner in crime tempting you with a chocolate cone from Andy's at 11:00 at night. It's having to figure out all that without the comfort of just having to establish a new routine in a new place without reminders of what was there.

Harder still, is finding a home for your buddy. How do you say take care of my pet, my dog, my best friend? How do you even explain that special relationship between a man and his dog? I know I grieved for months after losing Cody, and I know that doing what's best is not necessarily what's easiest. I know that the first time he approached the subject, I saw the tears he choked back and quickly swiped away. It's his buddy, the one he takes walks with and greets him with enthusiasm after a long work day. It's his buddy that sasses and challenges his patience, and chews and barks and needs to go out this. very. second. It's his puppy, it's his buddy, it's his Sylar.

But the hardest part, is how do you put it all into perspective when you just have no idea. You have no idea how it's all going to play out, you have no idea what it will be like. And you're scared, you're scared about missing your friends and your home and you're scared if you won't fit in or if the food is too spicy and the weather too hot. You're scared if you can't find a job or can't get a visa or can't stay. You're scared and terrified and stressed. You're scared you'll miss so much, and you're scared if it doesn't work out.

But you're supposed to have your shit together, because you're the strong one. Because you're the one that no major change has happened to yet. Because you're still there and on the surface, nothing has changed.

You're not the one that moved halfway across the world after her world fell apart and crashed and burned. You're not the one who is looking for a place that she belongs, looking for a familiar face. You're not the one that had a moment today when you ran into a friend from high school today at the gym and you're not the one that can comprehend how incredibly special that moment was after years of just wanting to have a long history with someone. You're not the one that is the obvious person in transition, you're not the one that gets a free pass because things are incredibly hard and there is just so much to adjust to. You're not the one that has to start a new job, a new life, a new bed, a new culture...you're not the one that misses and misses and misses her friends and her independence and her security. You're not the one that has to figure out where all her relationships stand and how to integrate them all without leaving anyone out or shortchanging anyone. You're not the one that gets to pull the trauma card, and the divorce card, and the i just moved halfway across the world after 9 years card. You're not the one that gets to have an obvious "this is why" card.

And so, as we deal with our separate worlds and try to figure it out, it all kind of explodes. And hot burning tears and hurtful words happen. Lots of conversations happen, and emails. Lots of decisions to be made, healthy, grown up, big girl big boy decisions that are so much easier said than done. Because you just want to be sure, you want to jump with both feet in but you're afraid. You want to run and stay and it's exhausting.

A moment of clarity, a moment of quiet. A decision that gives peace. We, we do not need to define where we are at. We do not need to know for sure. We are okay, these fears are valid, these concerns are things that can happen, and to pretend like it's not there, hurts us. To pretend like we are okay and that these things aren't stressful is a lie. To pretend that our relationship isn't affected is a hokey pokey absolute lie. It sucks. This situation blows and sucks ass.

I look back and I marvel at all the healing and lessons that I've learned. I look back and I think, a year ago, I would have never allowed myself to make this decision. I would have never been okay with just allowing things to unfold. With walking away. A year ago, I would have fought fought fought to make it work no matter how unhealthy. A year ago, I would have said I needed to. A year ago, I wouldn't have been able to acknowledge these feelings and allow myself to grieve or to be scared. A year ago, I would have demanded a decision, begged to be picked, to be loved, to be chosen.

A year later I know that it's okay. Whatever happens, I'm at peace with it. I love this boy, and I have nothing but mad respect for who he is and what he has brought into my life.

If we don't work out, I will miss him, and every fiber of my being will wish this was different but I also know that at the end of this, no matter how broken and hurt I feel, no matter how much it sucks to have a relationship fall apart, I'll look back and realize that I am enough, by myself. And I will love me for it. I will look down and still see my feet beneath me. I have learned so much from my divorce and that has allowed me to be able to make the hard, healthy decisions. So I can't say it's all bad, so I can't say that all this hurting is pointless. So I can't say that I wish to take it all back.

He comes in two weeks. In two weeks, we get to reconnect and be on the same continent for the first time in months. In two weeks, I get to remember what he smells like and what his hand feels like in mine. In two weeks, we get to have a conversation, face to face, without the help of technology. In two weeks, we get to figure out where we stand, where we go from here. In two weeks, I get to show him a little part of my world and my life here and in two weeks, I hope he likes it.

I need 100%. I need all the way. I need a commitment.

I need a relationship based on respect, and integrity, and honesty.

Those are the things I said I couldn't compromise.

Everything else? Everything else is negotiable. Everything else is not set in stone.

In the meantime, we're working on mending. We're working on fixing these lines of communication. We're working on listening. We're working on understanding and not taking things out on each other. We're working on trust.

We're working by faith.

We're working because we're not willing to call it quits yet.

And until we stop meeting in the middle,

until this gets unhealthy,

I'm working hard.

"Fight for your dreams, and your dreams will fight for you"

-Paulo Coelho

In Memory.

2010-09-17T06:05:00.009-05:00

To every thing there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;

a time of war, and a time of peace.

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

This week was so hard for so many reasons.

I need me an Amie hug.

I choose to be Muhibbah. (#loveburnsbrighter)

2010-09-07T13:02:00.015-05:00

I read about people burning churches, and people throwing red paint onto a mosque. I read about people burning cowheads at a Hindu temple, and churches burning Qurans. I read about hurting people rebelling. I read about people forgetting to love one another, forgetting to respect each other's sacred space, each other's religion. I read these awful, horrible, things and I weep for humanity.

What have we come to?

How did we forget? How did we come to this? How did we come to just blatantly disrespect our neighbors, our friends, our people?

What can I do?

How can I help?

Can I even make a difference?

Because I look around, and I see my friends. My neighbors. My people from a country I now call home and a country I called home for a long time. I look around and I see so many genuine, beautiful people. I look around and I see the stories, the culture that weaves it way through and creates such beautiful tapestry in this thing we call life.

I look around, and I think, surely, this dream of 1Malaysia is possible. I look around and I think, surely, this dream of a peaceful America with it's melting pot is possible.

I look around and I think, surely, surely there is something I can do.

Practice tolerance.

Practice holding back judgement.

Practice the appreciation for a different culture.

Practice respect for someone else's religion, someone else's God, someone else's sacred space and book.

Practice all this even as I hold tight to my faith, to my beliefs. Practice and know in my heart the values that I prescribe to, from a religious standpoint, from a humanity standpoint.

Because I have so much left to learn.

Because I have learned so much.

From people different than me.

From people of a different color and of a different religion.

I have also learned tolerance, and kindness, and gentleness from a religion other mine.

And I've been accused of being idealistic, I've been accused of being naive.

I've been accused, but yet I still believe.

I believe.

and this has reinforced in me lessons from my mama,

to always kill with kindness.

Or like someone ~~else~~ awesome's mama once taught me that

"no matter what someone else does, I still have the choice to act with sincerity and authenticity."

because when I see my friends, I don't see black or white or yellow or brown.

I don't see Muslim, or Hindu, or Buddhist, or Christian.

I don't feel the need to shove my beliefs down their throat and I appreciate that they don't try to either.

Because they are so much more than that.

I just see my friends.

And I want to believe that I can live in a world that we can all live happily together.

That we can always be friends.

That our "muhibbah" group will always be muhibbah regardless of our religious practices.

Because see, when they bleed, their blood is red too.

I am fiercely loyal, and when you hurt my friends, you hurt me too.

Please stop hurting us.

I choose to be Muhibbah.

I choose respect.

I choose to live in harmony.

"We must become the change we want to see."

-Mahatma Gandhi

Drafting.

2010-09-03T13:26:00.009-05:00

**taken when we thought Gustav was going to be so much more worst than it ended up being.

Sometimes, it's late, and I'm processing, and taking notes, missing, appreciating, adjusting, learning...and I am overwhelmed.

This, this sense of being overwhelmed is so very different from a breakdown. So very different from falling apart. It's more a sensory overload, an emotional response but emotionally also, in a very good place. A place of happiness, a place of love, a place of being.

There are so many things that I want to write about. I want to write about friendship and honesty. I want to write about sharing. I want to write about how incredibly blessed I feel to have found friends that I feel safe with. I want to write about how it feels like to be an open book, to have no secrets, to share and share and share. To say this is my story, and there are parts that are ugly, ugly, ugly. To say I made such monumentally huge mistakes, mistakes that led me to where I ended up. To say I take full responsibility, I take responsibility for my actions, and my stupid insecure decisions, and the girl that I was. I am sad for the girl that I was but I am okay with it. I am okay that all the bad and the yucky and the icky happened.

I am finally secure enough to say this happened, this is my story, and it has ugly, yucky, bits to it but I'm finally secure enough to know I will be okay even if I am judged because of it. That I will look down, and find myself still standing, still a survivor, no matter what hurtful words you might or might not say.

I want to write about finding my place, and being.

I want to write about the profound conversations that led me here.

I want to write about the discoveries. The lessons learned.

I want to write about Katrina, the anniversary, and the so very many thoughts associated with it. I want to write about how at peace I finally feel about the way things unfolded, I want to talk about how so very afraid and devastated I was initially that he had robbed this experience from me too, that he had tainted this too. I remember thinking, I love this city, I love this city so incredibly much but how do I disassociate this city from him? How do I not get angry and pissed off and hurt when I think of New Orleans. How will I ever walk through the city again and not remember....not remember this is where I fell in love with you, this is where we got married, this is where our story began. This is the place we honored, this is the place that taught me of compassion, this is the place that taught me lessons I will carry with for the rest of my life. This is the place, the beginning. This was the beginning to everything.

And I think, to commemorate, to honor, to give a voice...I think it would be good to go back to where it started. To go back to journal entries detailing. Of Ivan. Of Katrina. Of Gustav. Of the before and the in between and the after. I think it would be good to put it together, and I've started but sometimes, no matter how good of a place you're in, it's hard to read. To sift through.

And so I have a draft of words and stories halfway put together, waiting to be published, waiting to be told.

Maybe another day.

"And since you are a breath in God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion. "

-Khalil Gibran

How do you say...?

2010-08-30T10:10:00.026-05:00

I'm watching my friends' marriages completely fall apart. Crash and burn. I see them hurt and claw through the darkness, and my heart is so incredibly broken for them. I wish I had all the perfect words to comfort, I wish I knew just exactly what to say that was eloquent and would make sense, something that would convey just how much I love them and just how unbroken they are.

I want to sit with them in the darkness and hold them as they cry. As they feel every fiber in their being hurt, hold them so tight and convince them that their world isn't falling apart. I want to be angry with them, I want to grieve their shattered hopes and dreams, I want to remind them you are beautiful, you are stronger than you think you are, you are loved.

I want to remind them that it is safe to fall apart, I want to remind them that this burden, this need to keep your shit together is unfair. I want to say, do what you need to do.

Grieve.

Hurt.

Deny.

Get Angry.

Sob.

Scream.

Fall Apart.

it's okay, it's okay, it's okay.

Just don't forget to come back into the light, just don't forget that there are so many people behind you, next to you, ready to be there when you are. This, this is just a bump, a life lesson, a fork in the road that will take you to some place so special if you let it.

I want to say, this does not define you. Do not be embarrassed by this and do not let anyone else make you feel lesser for this. Your story is yours to keep, your truth is important only to you, tell it if you want to, scream it from the rooftops with details or bask in the privacy that this is your right to not have to say anything. This is your journey, and yours alone. It is up to you to tell the story, it is up to you to define it.

...this is such a hard sucky way of finding out who you are and what you are made of. This period, these hard, hurtful, devastating emotions are a special kind of hell-on-earth. It feels like you're the only one and you are so lost, so confused, so exhausted. So done. I want to say, I'm here. I want to say, I believe in you, but more than that I know with all my heart that there's a bigger picture. There is sunshine after the storm. That this is the yucky awful bridge that will take you to where you want to be. Where you're hoping to be. Where you're begging to be.

It can happen.

Really and truly.

But I can't say that. I can't say that because it's like a slap in the face. I can't say it because sometimes, the hard things, the promises, the "there is a silver lining, this happened for a reason, it's all going to be okay" might not be what they can or want to hear at the moment.

I remember that when everything was falling apart and people kept on telling me how "good" this was, I wanted to slap someone. I wanted to say are you fucking kidding me? I wanted to say take it back, I don't want the lesson, I can't see the lesson, I don't understand the bloody lesson. I can't hear you, I don't get it so please please don't tell me this happened for a reason because right now? Right now, I don't get it, right now, I'm just trying to get through the next minute, and maybe the next 5 after that. And then maybe I'll get through 15 mins, and eventually an hour. And someday, someday maybe I'll be able to go through a whole day without falling apart but for right now, right now, I am completely and totally overwhelmed and I have no words. So please please don't tell me that this losing my marriage, losing my identity, losing what feels like everything to me in this moment, is a good thing.

So I don't know what to say.

I don't know how to say, I believe in the happy without rubbing it in their face. I don't know how to say, I was there once, I was once at that dark dark place of confusion and sadness, I was once so incredibly broken and hurt and there were days that felt like forever, and there were days where it was so hard to keep the faith but that I am here. I am here and it is beautiful and I believe in you and I know you can do it. I can see, from the other side, all the good that can come out of this.

I don't know how to say that I'm sure that these decisions were not made lightly. I'm sure that this was in no one's fault. You don't have to explain, you don't have to hide. I know the person that you are, I know the incredible, loving, amazing, friend that you are. This was just where life took you and this was the road that you had to take for you. This was the healthy, this was the grown-up, this was the "right" wrong thing.

I get it, I get it so please please stop beating yourself up.

I believe in marriage. I still do. I believe in the sanctity of marriage. I believe in trying and trying and trying again. I believe in fighting for a marriage, in respecting and honoring your vows. But I also believe in making the healthy choice. Making the right choice that is needed at that time. I believe that sometimes, people change, people grow apart, people become unhealthy for each other. I believe that sometimes, marriages just fall apart. Sometimes, something special can become toxic, sometimes hard choices are made to preserve, to protect. Sometimes, life just happens and sometimes, marriage isn't forever.

I'm not judging.

I love you, just for you. I love you in the ugly, in the yucky, in the sad. I love you in the happy, and the laughy, and the crazy delirious awesome.

I'm not choosing sides. I love the both of you. I love the both of you and I refuse to choose sides. I refuse to say who was right or who was wrong because I don't know what happened. This is not my judgement to make, this is not my decision to make, this is not for me to pit one side against each other.

I love you both.

And I'm so so sorry.

I'm sorry that two couples that I love so dearly and have so much respect for are having to go through this yucky ugly thing. And I know that you're trying, I know that you're probably sick of trying and sometimes it slips. Sometimes, we just make mistakes. Sometimes, it's just ugly. This is ugly. It's messy. It's sad.

Let's call it for what it is.

It's ugly.

But I also know that this is a new beginning. This is a beginning that in no way disregards the past. This is the beginning of healing, of discovering, of independence.

This is the beginning to the rest of the new you.

This beginning, no matter how hard and awful and terrible it began, is still a beginning.

In the end, you decide.

I love you, and I love you too much to let you hurt alone.

I'm here,

whenever you need me.

How? How do I say all that eloquently? Precise? Not in six thousand and seventy two overwhelming words?

after winter comes the summer.

after night comes the dawn.

and after every storm, there comes clear open skies.

-samuel rutherford.

Mending.

2010-08-22T09:26:00.039-05:00

I'm looking for closure, for words, for a place to put my feelings and thoughts...to be filed away, to be said out loud then secured into a safe place. I'm looking for healing, for mending, for a place to be grateful, to be honest, to say all the things I don't say out loud. The fears, the ugly moments, the moments where insecurity and being blindsided collide in a catastrophic spectacle of being hurt and struggling to find the ground beneath you.

So much happened this week, so much happened and it was a week packed to the brim with so so many intense highs and lows. A week of transitions and adjustments, a week of hard lessons and such happy proud moments, a week of loving, healing, hurting, hiding, coping....a week of breathing in and out then in again.

It is hard to define the challenge of being lost. The slow slow snail pace transition of adapting and redefining a new normal. I'm grieving, in some sense, for the things and people and the places I have left behind. I crave for this safe place. I crave for my independence and the security in knowing. In knowing just who I am here, in knowing my surroundings, in figuring out the people and the friendships and the intricate change of the new and the different and the adapting.

How do you describe what it's like to be in two different places at once, a part of me so excited to be home and another part desperately ready to be at a place I know.

Is it possible to be so happy but so sad at the same time? Is it possible to be home but so incredibly homesick for another home so far away? How do you really define this feeling? I've been trying and trying to find the perfect way to describe this transition but words fail me, I miss. I miss so very much and deeply and badly. I miss and miss and miss, in a sad melancholic lump-in-my-throat-bite-back-the-tears way. I miss my best friend, and my safe place, and my cupcake store, and our lunch dates, and my loving crazy awesome surrogate family. I miss friday nights with friends in stupid dingy hookah bars, and The Bachelor dates with the girls, and driving and stupid silly stinky Sylar and a little big girl that started 4th grade this week. I miss Target and Cache and TJMaxx and I miss going into a store unembarassed, unassuming, unknowing to even be worried to ask if they have my size. I miss being normal, and a regular, and a local. I miss knowing exactly who I am in a crowd, I miss being completely secure in the decisions and choices I have had to made, I miss just being.

This week has probably been the hardest.

This week stripped me and knocked me down just a little, this week, I took punches and bruises, this week, I fell apart just a little. Questioned, swallowed a mouth full of insecurity and let my confidence take a beating. This week, I let different people make me believe that I was less than I was.

This week, I let someone make me feel fat and ugly.

This week, I let someone make me feel dumb and stupid.

This week, I let someone make me feel like a failure.

This week, I got just vulnerable enough to let someone hurt me with insensitive words.

But the difference is, I know that this week, I let them.

I allowed them to make me feel that way.

I am better than this. I have worked hard hard hard to be better than this. I have worked enough to know that this is a journey, a transition of sorts, bumpy and rough at times. That this period, this moment of blinding vulnerability is part and parcel of defining a new normal. That most of all, this falling back is pivotal to moving forward.

But more than that,

This week, I will forgive myself for letting someone make me feel fat and ugly.

I will forgive myself for letting someone make me feel dumb and stupid.

I will forgive myself for letting someone make me feel like a failure.

I will forgive myself for being just vulnerable enough to let them hurt me with their insensitive words.

And in that, I will forgive them.

This week, I will choose to learn this precious lesson. This week I will take the shattered pieces of my pride and guard it fiercely. I will try harder at mending these broken relationships without letting it break me. I will learn to say no thank you, I will learn to stand up for myself, I will learn to speak up instead of run. I will learn not to beat myself up for the things I should or should not have done, the things I should or should not have said, the decisions I should or should not have made.

I will choose to just be. I will choose to kick ass. I will choose to laugh, and appreciate, and be grateful. I will choose to learn, I will choose to not be bitter, I will choose to be better than this.

But more than that, more than anything else,

I will choose to move forward.

....and now that I have all that emo touch-feely pity party off my chest.

I need to share all the good, all the happy, all the honest and true and crazy fun strange bizarre goodness from the last month.

I discovered the smartest parking system in the world.

It lights up! So you know exactly where there is parking and isn't!

We celebrated our maid Anna's birthday and the waiters sang a very enthusiastic rendition of Happy Birthday. That night, she told me "My day was just perfect mum Racheal, just perfect".

It made my heart smile.

My mum and I took a little tour with the wives from my dad's 40th high school reunion class.

The bus was extremely colorful.

But more importantly, I found a sign that I have absolutely no idea what it means.

If you do, please kindly let me know what it means. I think it's important to know these things.

Nick, Yuka, Steven and I lost our minds and decided to go take a nature hike at the Forest Reserve.

We may or may not have laughed at Nick's 'just.look.straight.ahead" technique.

Blue fern plant!

At the bottom of the hill, we found some super nice locals making a traditional Malay candy called Dodol. They told us all about how they made it and even shared a fresh bowl with us!

And because the food is so insanely different but awesome here, I took a shit ton of food pictures that amused me. :P

My digestive system may or may have been extremely pissed off so on Saturday, we decided it would be a good idea to have a little taste of Springfield and something not spicy or crazy.

I got six thousand ideas for the new house.

Some were good.

And some gave me nightmares.

In the spirit of Malaysia, we participated in the Buddhist Hungry Ghost Festival and the Muslim Ramadhan bazaar.

And in the spirit of Ramadhan, I have a confession to make. I may or may not have succumbed to peer pressure and bought a Windows based laptop for work.

Which may or may not be related to this tweet.

But ooh look monkeys!!!

I love me some impromptu picnics.

Matt came in for the weekend and so we introduced him to some important things.

Like Ramly burgers.

Waitresses in kinky uniforms.

Lighted trees.

and special friends.

But really, most of the time, I just really miss this dorky, silly boy.

Thank you Mr. Skype.

:)

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

~Leo Buscaglia

Special.

2010-08-07T13:34:00.014-05:00

I have tried, in the last three weeks, writing and rewriting my thoughts, summing it all up eloquently and giving words to this experience.

I have a nice little collection of drafts, of things I started to say, tried to say, didn't know how to say.

How do I talk of all the special and the wonderful and the assurance that this, this moving, was meant to be?

or of constantly adjusting to the culture shock can sometimes be so demoralizing. of the trials and the challenges, of all being sometimes so scared, so alone, so terrified of what's to come and having fleeting moments of insecurity bite me so hardly in the ass?

or how I miss and miss and miss somemore. How a part of my heart is so sad and longs so much and how long-distance sucks balls.

But yet, I also want to tell you about the beautiful. I want to document the beautiful. The amazing amazing little things that have happened, that has made my heart smile so big and my gratitude for all that is happening immense.

Of how when we were taking a break, out of breath, encouraging one another on our spectacular nature hike, how a little teenage boy, stopped, and asked so kindly, so genuinely, so honestly, if he could share his 100plus with us. A simple cup of offering, so thoughtful, instead of making fun, instead of pointing and laughing and nudging his friends and whispering like teenagers do, he asked if he could share his drink with us. And that, that meant the world to me. I wanted to ask him for his mother's number, to ring her up and say, what a fabulous and spectacular job you've done with your boy. What a gift to be reminded of what it means to compassionate, to share, to be kind.

And when we finally reached the top of the hill, seventeen hundred breaks and six buckets of sweat later, it felt so incredibly good to know we did it. We did it! And as we crossed a rope suspension bridge 1000ft(?) above the sea level, it was hard not to notice just how beautiful the moment was.

If you know me, you'll know that I am definitely not a let's-go-be-one-with-nature-and-run-in-the-woods-kind-of-girl. It's hot, it's humid, there are furry creatures and mosquitos and what the hell is this fresh air bit? Give me an elliptical, a tv, some headphones, a trainer and a clean, organized, no surprises methodical place and I'm good.

So this bit, this part where I actually enjoyed the fresh air, the slight breeze, the bits of thunder rumbling in the background and the splash of the waterfall as I look away into the city and down beneath me into miles of rainforest, I was in awe. I was in awe of the God that had orchestrated all this beauty, and I was in awe of the God that was orchestrating all the moments in my life.

I was with friends, an impromptu agreement to walk the canopy together after a night full of reconnecting. I've been trying to think of the words to describe what the night was like...I had worried it would be awkward, I had worried I would be exhausted fielding seventeen hundred different questions and that we would have changed, that I would have changed too much and that I would feel just so different. I should have known better, I should have known better than to let my insecurities mess with my mind, I should have known better and given my friends and myself so much more credit than I did. A 15 year friendship doesn't just happen because it's convenient, a 15 year friendship happens because you love each other just as is. Because my friends? My friends just loved and the love fest was evident in our laughs and smiles.

I am so so grateful for these relationships. I am so so grateful these relationships have survived and more than once last night, the thought crossed my mind on how meant to be this moment was. How right it felt to move home. How freaking blessed I am.

We have watched each other grow up, mature, fight through the awkward stages of puberty and adolescence. We have rebelled together, stood up for each other and bickered with one another, pushed and pulled throughout the years. We have learned to overcome challenges together and apart, we have learned when to guide and when to support, when to push and when to just be there. We have seen our way through death, through divorce, through job interviews and separately moving to different continents and learning to find ourselves, our purpose.

Our friendship may have it's bumps and bruises, our friendship may not be perfect, but our friendship is so incredibly special.

My first year in college away from everything that I knew and stuck in the booming metropolis of Pensacola, Fl...I longed for a familiar face. I longed to run into someone at Target that I went to primary school with, that just knew me more than the "international student", that knew me just for me. And slowly, as I adjusted and learned to call America my home, I made new friends that are now old friends but a part of me has always longed for these friends. These friends that know me, that have watched me grow up, that I can talk to even if it's been months since we last spoke. These friends that I can raise an eyebrow across the table and laugh uncontrollably in our secret joke, these friends that have so much history in the stories that I tell, that I can refer to a moment that needs no further elaboration. These friends, and how we've travelled and lived in all parts of the world and yet somehow, miraculously found our way home to live in Malaysia or are on our way here. We represent America, Australia, London, Switzerland, Scotland, Europe and it is just so crazy how we have made it back here in very unconventional and unplanned ways, ways that sometimes hurt and were sometimes expected and unexpected but in retrospect, were so right.

Our circle has expanded and is constantly expanding and contracting, revolving. We have included significant others and friends from uni and friends of friends and the faces have changed. We make new friends in our "other lives" and every once in a while, a neat opportunity happens for our paths to cross and it is really neat to see the "other side". Our priorities may have changed and our personalities may have matured, our accents a strange eclectic mix but the core of who we are remains the same. And for that, I am so, so grateful.

These are friends I will hopefully grow old with.

How special is it to be able to say that?

"The most beautiful discovery that true friends can make is that they can grow separately without growing apart."

-Unknown

Living.

2010-07-30T11:37:00.008-05:00

Today, was better than yesterday and yesterday, was better than the day before.

Slowly, so very slowly, I'm beginning to get comfortable, a little less in shock, and slowly etching out my Malaysia.

I am learning to find my identity, the things I associate with. The person that I am, my wants, my dreams, my beliefs. I am learning to define who I am here, if my core values are still the same, if my purpose has changed, if my outlook on life is shifting and switching and finding just the right position in which I can stand on.

I rewatched the season finale of Grey's and cried like a bitch baby. And there is something so incredibly raw and painful that strikes me and strips me of all pretenses. It is in this stripped down honesty that I can see how far I've come and how easy it would be to just fall back into it all. I remember, that pain, that infinite hole of darkness and fear, that infinite hole of devastation and desperation. I remember, and it humbles me. I have come so far, but there is still much more to go.

I will choose to live my life fully. Completely. I will choose to love and be loved. I will choose to put good, strong, incredible people in my life. I will choose to help, to serve, to be compassionate and to give. I will choose to push myself just a little bit more, to challenge, to not settle. I will choose to do it all with integrity, with blinding honesty, with credibility.

I talked to the lawyers(and six hundred other people) today. Tying up loose ends and trying to shut down the remnants of my life in America. It is surreal and crazy but it is good at the same time. A year ago, I didn't think I had it in me to make the decisions I am making today. A year ago, I didn't think I'd ever heal, ever see the sun shine again. A year ago, I thought my whole life was over and the pain would never ever go away. A year ago, I was so completely and absolutely wrong.

And there are still so many lessons to be learned. Lessons that have been taught, lessons that are being taught, and lessons that will be taught.

Of self image. Of confidence. Of independence.

On-going.

Some days better than the others, some days in the pit and the muck of it all.

But they are happening, and for that, for that, I am grateful.

Grateful for the opportunity.

Grateful to have a choice.

Grateful to be humbled.

Tomorrow, tomorrow will be a great day.

And at the end...at the end I want to be able to say..

"See I’ve lived, I mean I’ve really really lived. I’ve failed, I’ve been devastated, I’ve been broken, I’ve gone to hell and back. And I’ve also known joy, and passion, and I’ve had a great love. See, death for me is not justice. It’s a end of a beautiful journey. And I’m not afraid to die. The question is, are you?"

who said TV is all bad?

Just the two of us: LA in transit.

2010-07-26T08:17:00.027-05:00

Months ago when I booked my ticket to fly home, I asked the boy if he would like to fly out to LA with me. I cannot even begin to tell you how nice it was to have some special time together. Just us. Pretending to be tourists. Exploring a new city. Sharing a cupcake. Talking. Believing in our hopes and dreams. We lived a little bit in denial, enjoyed ourselves, cried, laughed together. And when I left, it felt so much like I'd left a part of me behind, like something was missing.

"Thank you for making my heart smile."

----

LA in pictures.

We checked in and of course after rushing and running around like madmen, we found out our flight was delayed. Then, the realtor called and said she was showing the house that night. The same house in which while rushing and running around like a madmen, I had thrown stuff everywhere, where unwanted clothes laid haphazardly, and all the extra things I couldn't take with me were stuffed into every possible crevice and spot. Yes, I'm sure the lovely couple that came to see the house were totally impressed with the crap that exploded all over and the dog that was going crazy.

So we took a bunch of pictures at the airport.

We were starving and got in crazy late so we had the most delicious pizza from the hotel. The chef stayed late to make us that special pizza and it was amazing. Who knew cilantro on a pizza could taste this good?

The next day, while trying to decide between Santa Monica or Universal Studios, the concierge told us about this trolley that took us to the Manhattan Beach area for only $5!

While waiting, we took the requisite picture with palm trees.

A requisite self portrait.

...we also discovered that Joe is freakishly tall.

We had skipped breakfast so we thought it was only appropriate that we started with desserts first.

Maple BACON Cupcake!!

And we ended up with these choices.

And of all odd reasons, we felt like some Mexican.

We stumbled upon an incredible farmer's market. With kebabs and chiropractors. Balloon makers and crepes. Handmade baskets and a shit ton of nannies/kids.

Also, the juiciest peaches and sweetest berries.

It tickled my little eco-conscious lover that they had trash cans for recycling.

We shopped and saw bougainvilleas, which reminded me so much of my childhood and home.

but more importantly, we found the beach!

And for dinner, we went to Gladstones in Malibu.

We had a gorgeous view and spent dinner watching a beautiful sunset and making new friends.

For $39.99 a dish, the food was okay. Not incredible but okay. I was a little disappointed.

But more excitingly, they wrapped up our leftovers! This amused me for hours.

The man is a genius!

That night, we had a glass of wine at the bar. Joe pouted and showed off his unexpected sunburn. Apparently, the rays were a little more vicious than we thought.

The next day, early, sunblocked, and ready, we took a 7hr "Grand Tour of LA". We pretty much went to every available tourist trap. It was silly, exhausting, disappointing, fun, depressing, annoying, scary, and long. I think we mostly spent the day trying not to remember that I was leaving that night. We'd both been to LA on separate trips so there wasn't really anything new. I think we did it more to do it together and have something to do than anything. It definitely wasn't what we expected but we made the best of it.

And that night, we had dinner at the hotel, did some last minute packing, took the shuttle to the airport, cried and prayed together and then said goodbye.

That, that kinda sucked.

"This is my wish for you: Comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, sunsets to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, Love to complete your life.”

-Unknown

Counting Down: Last week in Springfield (in pictures.)

2010-07-26T05:29:00.020-05:00

My last week in Springfield...

Joe's mom came for a visit. She made yummy yummy food, helped me pack, and it was nice to know that when Joe came back from LA, he had someone to come home to.

In the meantime, I...

grilled and made up some new recipes.

Painted some pottery w little g and sleepy baby e.

My honorary boo drove in to say bye so we cried, laughed, drank, ate, and took a huge walk down memory lane.

and of course, we paid tribute to a time honored tradition.

really, he came to participate in a drunken debauchery and a celebration of friends.

which resulted in my FAVORITE. Picture. Ever.

in between, I ~~made the room explode~~ tried to pack.

then I did the hardest thing in the world and said goodbye to my surrogate family.

but what was even neater than artichokes and hollandaise sauce, was being elevated to homemade pizza status.

and then it was over. I ran what felt like six thousand errands, miraculously fit eight years of stuff into three suitcases, made room for all the special cards and gifts, packed and repacked then repacked again, and we were off to LA.

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it."
-William Arthur Ward

A week.

2010-07-25T22:21:00.003-05:00

I keep on writing and rewriting this post hoping that somehow my thoughts will magically organize themselves into sentences. But the truth is, I'm still trying to figure it out.

...

2010-07-20T00:57:00.009-05:00

I'm working on a post to try and explain all the amazing and crazy that has happened in the last couple of days. So much is still so surreal. The jet lag, the love, the intense heat, the reverse culture shock, the six million people to see and seven hundred things to do, how strange but right this feels. About how things have come together and on my first full day, I experienced and remembered all the exact reasons why I needed to come home. I'm finding my words, trying to process through this experience slowly, swirling things around and mulling it over. I'm in a good place, slightly overwhelmed but open. Understanding. Accepting. Loving. Building. Starting again.

I'm finding my place in the world, my slice of Malaysia. I'm learning to find the ground again and feeling around for my footing. So in the meantime, a ~~shit ton~~ collection of pictures of a little taste of the crazy, of the love, of the journey.

Blessed.

in transit.

2010-07-16T03:30:00.002-05:00

In transit in Taipei and had a moment of being completely overwhelmed. A colossal meltdown of sorts, the smells, the languages, the craziness. Everything was so so different and for about a good 20 minutes, I just sobbed, and cried, and got completely overwhelmed and terrified. I was worried, and lonely, and so incredibly tired and whoa, there’s a hole in the ground and I have to pee in it and it smells kinda crazy and I just want to know how to use the phone but I don’t understand anyone and the instructions are in Chinese and I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m scared. I’m scared. I’m scared.

I flew Business, and it’s a luxury that I like to indulge in but not often. There are a lot of lovely things about it, like the extra treatment, being able to lie down, the extra luggage weight and amenities, but there’s also an uglier side to it....perhaps I was more sensitive, but the people are ruder, snobbier, over indulged and too entitled. I was annoyed as some guy snapped at the flight attendant for asking him politely to move as he blocked the entire aisle, I was pissed as another passenger threw a shit fit because he didn’t want the “economy passengers” to be able to put their carry-on luggages into our EMPTY overhead bins, I was uncomfortable as some man got more obnoxious as the rum flowed. There was an air of arrogance, an air of entitlement, of “I am better than you and we are better than them” and maybe just maybe, it was this air of “I don’t fit in” that lingered. That left a bad taste in my mouth as I deboarded in Taipei. That made me feel so uncomfortable and uneasy, and as everything unfolded, the magnitude of what I was doing kinda hit me all at once.

I didn’t know what time it was, my watch set on Pacific, Springfield on Central time, we were fast forwarded by a day when we changed continents and Taiwan was on a different time zone than Malaysia...so to say, I was a little lost, might be an understatement. My cellphone wouldn’t work, the pay phones were in Chinese and I just wanted to talk to my mom or Joe or a friend, someone that could help me find my center again, someone that would remind me to just breathe, someone that would just say...everything’s going to be okay, really, really. So instead I locked myself in the bathroom and just cried. The Ugly kinda cry, the kinda cry you just sob and sob and sob because you have no idea what you’re doing or where you are or what to do. The kind that you shake and you feel so tiny and insecure and SCARED out of your freaking mind, the kind of cry that releases and lets go and confronts in the most terrifying way, all your little fears. But more than that, it is the kind of cry the mourns for all the things you have lost and all the people that you miss and all the relationships that are now forever changed. It is the kind of cry I knew was way past overdue, nipped at the bud every time I even came close to having “feelings” because I thought I had to be “strong”, to set the tone so no one would be sad. I was so numb the last couple of weeks, in a happy place called denial and feeling so incredibly surreal that when reality bit me in the ass, it bit me HARD. Like have-a-good-pity-party-sobfest-in-a-random-bathroom-in-the-middle-of-a-Taipei-airport-while-on-transit-and-sick-of-flying-next-to-a-hole-in-the-ground kinda hard. Classy.

And when I was done feeling sorry for myself, I sucked it up, put on my big girl panties on and figured it out. I figured out where my gate was, how to use the Chinese pay phone and the crazy phone card with a whole lot of Chinese on it. I gestured my way through a bunch of conversations, and hung out with some other strangers and stragglers. I figured out where I could find a Wi-Fi connection in the terminal, charge my phone, clean up, wash my face, brush my teeth, put on some mascara and feel somewhat human again. Then I scored a short connection on Twitter to send a brutally honest SOS and read the love in my mailbox. And that love, that sweet sweet love of support...that meant the world. And suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone, I didn’t feel so scared or lonely or nervous...I felt, just a little bit better. Just a little bit safer. And that, that was exactly what I needed. Those emails, and tweets, and comments, was the push I needed to stay sane, the push I needed to say...it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay.

Thank you friends.

“I’m trying, actively, to renew my faith and my hope and my joy and my optimism. They’ve all gone missing, which is not okay with me.”

up in the air.

2010-07-15T02:05:00.006-05:00

I watched the sun rise, somewhere in between Los Angeles and Taipei and my heart is so full, so overwhelmed, so grateful for these experiences. The last couple of weeks a blur, years of memories crammed into days of celebrating friendships and independence. I’m coming home, momma, and it’s been an amazing awesome journey.

Eight years of learning to grow up, eight years of so many lessons of heartache and joy and maturity, eight years of learning to tough it out, learning to be independent, learning to come a full circle. This experience, this moment of immense gratitude and peace, will not have come without the woven tapestries and stories of the last eight years.

I am blessed. I have been blessed by this experience, my life story richer, my perspective broader, my soul so much more intricately bond to my friends and family and the amazing love that transpires between these relationships. I have learned to be humble, I have been broken down, betrayed, torn apart, kicked and stomped...but I have also been enriched, overjoyed, overwhelmed with experiences that I have only hoped for.

I have seen my friends rally around me, our bond tested, tried, and true. I have known the unconditional love of a child, and what it feels like to protect, provide, nourish and nurture like your own. I have seen God’s amazing brilliance in the things that have come together, I have learned to trust His wisdom, His time, His understanding and purpose for the things that happen and to let it unfold as it should. My faith has been tested and stretched in ways that I never knew I could, at times, so utterly convinced that there was no way possible that this band could possibly go anymore, than surprised and thankful when it does.

I have felt my God carry me, and I have felt the beauty of the peace that comforts a broken, hurting soul. I have learned to surrender to the higher power but I have also learned to fight back, fight fair, fight for myself. I have learned to stand up for the things that I believe in. I have learned that I have a voice, a position and I have learned to hold tight to my values.

I have worked hard, hard, hard at forgiving past hurts, forgiving myself. I have worked hard, hard, hard, at peeling off the many complex layers, scratching to the raw core of it, and starting over. Of allowing myself to start again, of forgiving myself, of being realistic, of being brutally honest and talking about the very many things I ran from. I have learned to be my own person, to take responsibility, to be accountable, to grow. I have renewed friendships and vows, I have learned a whole new perspective and drive for the things that I want in my life and the people that I want in it.

I have renewed beautiful bonds and ties with family that transverse far beyond the continents or oceans. I have learned just how strong the ties of family mean. I have been comforted, carried, cared for by people that love me no matter what and I am coming home. I am returning to the things that I knew from before, and while I am also absolutely terrified of the things that I do not know, I am also incredibly excited about this decision. To return back to my roots, to come home, to put my wings on and learn to fly.

I have learned to trust again. I have learned to love again. I have learned just how incredibly happy it can be when it is right and true and honest. I have learned to love the simple, the honest, the little things. I have learned that it’s not always the grand or the big or the opulent that make a difference, sometimes, it is just simply in the way they love you.

I have learned that I am my own person. I have learned to power of independence. Of learning to be alone. I have learned that even if this relationship fails, if it falls apart. That I am okay and that I will survive. I might be sad, I might be crushed, but I know that it will not break me. I know that I can heal, I know that I can get back up again, I know what I am made of.

There are good people out there, there are nice, incredible, sweet, real people. But more than that, there are people, that can come from broken backgrounds with stories that will amaze you and still be unstoppable. It’s not the past that you blame, it’s not the things that happened or didn’t happen, it’s not just the circumstances...no, it is so much more. It is the individual, and some will do good, and some will do bad, but do not let the past define you.

I have learned to forgive the very things I thought were once so unforgivable. I have learned to let go of the betrayal, the anger, the hurt caused. I have learned what it means to truly let go, I have learned what it means to say it’s over. It’s done with. I have grieved, I have processed, I have come to terms and understood and made peace with it.

I realize that this will always be a part of me, and there are many things that I will still look back at and be sad about but I will not let it hold me back. I realize now that the many many reasons that led me here, led me to the decisions that were made. The things I feared, the things I didn’t know how to confront, didn’t know how to process, didn’t know how to put words into...and now I have tools, now I have the ability to say I can do this, I will do this.

This, this is important and I will not let myself cheat myself out of this growth process, I will learn from these mistakes, I will learn from the past, I will learn and it will be hard and painful and so so incredibly crazy at times, but it’s worth it.

I’m worth it.

I have done so many things I thought I would never do and I am grateful for these experiences. So incredibly grateful, and it is this gratitude that will carry me in the next couple of days as I transition into a whole new normal. It is this love, this incredible love that surrounds me that will comfort me when I am scared, and terrified, and unsure. It’s these lessons that I’ve learned about myself, the bits and pieces of me that I know that are true and honest that I will use as a moral compass to make good decisions.

And I will struggle, as the culture shock explodes in my face and I try to find my place on this side of the world. But I’m going to try, and at the end of the day, if I’ve failed miserably, if I’ve been discouraged and scared and unsure, I will hold close the ones beside me, I will find my safe place and hug and scream and laugh and cry, and at the end of the day, I will try, then try again.

I have great people behind me, I have great people beside me, and I have great people before me,

I am blessed.

I am loved.

I am happy.

...I am going home.

“Welcome Home.” *

"Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes, it is letting go."

-Unknown

*When you fly Malaysian Airlines, right as you touch down on home ground, the pilot always announces “welcome home” in Malay and Chinese and English. This makes me cry every time.

Fourth of July weekend, in picture form.

2010-07-06T03:15:00.017-05:00

I bought a simple black and white dress that made me six kinds of happy so of course I hid in our bathroom that's completely being torn apart and camwhored. :)

Then we went on an impromptu date to the park where we took some cheesy cheesy photos. :)

Cone flower love.

More pink flowers please.

And because Target is awesome, we made the ultimate discovery of 24 inch bones. I argued Sylar's case on why he would possibly really really NEED a huge bone. But I lost. Apparently, it was a waste or a little over the top or something. :P

Fourth of July roses! This amused me for hours and made me giggle.

We stopped to marvel at a gorgeous sunset. While at Sam's. Getting all kinds of yummy fruit, and other random crap that screamed at us to buy me! buy me! buy me!

And that night, we went to a friend's place on the pretext of borrowing a hose, but it ended up being a two hour visit where we laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more.

We went to church and watched some special friends get baptized for Freedom Splash. They preached about dreams. I got teary eyed.

And because we were already on the north side of town, it was critically important that we went to Cracker Barrell before I left. Cracker Barrell has a very special place in my heart and the Campfire Beef thingamagic makes me happy beyond words. Awesome wrapped in foil doesn't even begin to cover it.

We went to "I Love America", possibly my favoritest ever place to be on my favoritest ever American holiday. :)

But mostly, I thought about how everything was different but yet the same from two years ago and how amazing this ride has been.

And then we watched another brilliant sunset.

The boy mostly didn't have to work so I had 4 and a half uninterrupted days with him which made me deliciously happy.

Speaking of delicious, we laid down a blanket had pineapple whip and corn dogs and sweet tea and attempted to stand in line for funnel cake but the thousands and thousands of people scared us a little.

Plus, we couldn't miss the fireworks!!

But most of all, we had a damn good time, and a great weekend.

And when we left, instead of fighting with 7000 other cars, we parked, in the middle of nowhere, reclined our seats and talked while everyone else fought to get out of there. We talked about life, about everything and nothing at all, enjoyed each other, enjoyed the moment and counted our many blessings.

"Sometimes the things you're most afraid of end up being the happiest"

-Unknown

I love my North Point homies!

2010-07-06T00:11:00.012-05:00

Dear Pastor Tommy and the whole team at NPC,

I wanted to thank you, encourage, and share my amazing NPC experience with you and how it has blessed me tremendously.

The first time I went to NPC, I didn't tell anyone. I was hurting, broken, angry and had recently gone through a significant life change. While I still believed, I had lost touch with the God that comforts, the God that would walk with me and carry me, the God that I could completely trust and say, I give you my life, all that I am, do as you please and I will believe that You are in control and knowing. So the first time, the first time was pretty rough. I drove past by my old church, betrayed and grieving, searching. I can't remember who told me about NPC (I wish I did, I owe them a huge thank you), I sat in the parking lot and missed the first service, summoning up all the courage I could to just walk in, just give it one last try. I was embarrassed because of the things that had happened and worried that I would be judged or even worst, worried if somebody would continuously hound me and stalk me until I "agreed" to be a part of the church. And so, at about 12:15, I told myself, I could either give it a try and walk in for the last service, or I could go home and just try again next week. I live on the south side of town and have no sense of direction, trying to get to NPC in the first place was an experience in itself, so I knew that chances were, I probably wouldn't attempt to come here again. So I said, what's there to lose? Really, what's there to lose when it feels like you've lost everything?

I sat in the back, away from everyone, so I could slip out just in case it was too much or it turned out to be a crazy cult church because who blasts pop music in the parking lot and what kind of happy pills do they put in their kool-aid and holy moly, if they start talking in tongues or trying to "slain" me, my Lutheran butt is getting out of there. Those 5 minutes before service started was probably the longest in my life. Heart pounding, nervous, excited, scared, unsure.

And then the worship team started. I heard the words, felt God and was so incredibly moved. I sobbed and sobbed, embarrassed but it was so real, so tangible, this promise, these words. It was the comfort of an old familiar blanket, one that I knew a long time ago but life kinda kicked and knocked it down. I embraced and praised Him in the darkness and with the crazy lights in this "rock concert" arena. Then Pastor Tommy spoke, and I believed. I'm sure there are lots of people that feel like the sermons are God's way of talking specifically to them but for about 20 mins, I looked around and thought, really? No way. What? How does he know? Has he read my life story? How in the world is he preaching the exact words I so desperately needed to hear? And at the end, during the altar call, I was moved but again, I thought, yeah right they're not going to make you walk up and ask what happened and how and then have to face the entire congregation and yeah...okay. You know which part I love the most? The one where he asks the second time, the ones that were hesitant to raise their hands before, to just do it. And in that moment, I finally felt Peace. Peace, everything I had been looking for and searching. I felt God's Peace, God's Words, God's promise of having a plan, of not forsaking you, of trusting and believing of saying God, I don't know much, but I'm taking this huge giant leap of faith and I'm just going to let you roll with it. Whatever will be, will be and I'll stop questioning and let you do your thing.

I came home so refreshed and told my friends about this incredible experience at NPC and I was smiling so hard they thought I was crazy. I told them about the magical God experience and reconnecting, I showed them my bag of goodies and the next week, we shared popcorn and diet coke and watched a Redbox movie. I told them about how it wasn't a "stuffy" church and it was seriously cool, and they didn't preach crazy sermons like "God hates you if you're a sinner and you're going to die and we're cooler than you so come be saved!". I showed them the twitter feed and fb page and for real, it's like a church just for us and they do these incredible things that we believe in and it's local and we get to help and our money doesn't go towards a fancy car or someplace unknown and they're really nice and not pushy and it's okay to ask questions or not be sure and they have all these brilliant resources and I promise you, they won't shove a Bible down your throat but relay God's Word to you in bite sized easily digested and applicable morsels. How else can I possibly bribe you into coming because you really really really have to come experience this?! And in the last year, I'm pretty sure I HAVE told everyone I know about NPC. But more than that, I think the changes that they have seen in my life, the happiness that I have found in trusting God and letting Him lead me have been more evident and convincing than anything else beyond Andy's Custard or Chik-Fil-A. :)

I love that I have seen where my ImpAct money goes and worked Second Saturdays and Connect Groups and seen how incredible and amazing these life changes are. I have been blessed and I have learned so so much from this experience. When Convoy of Hope came and asked us to fill our fruit baskets, we bought a meal for the Ronald McDonald house, remembering to pass it on. I'll never forget the Second Saturday where we gave out turkey dinners. I remember picking up the list and meticulously putting a bag together, praying that it would bless someone. And at the end, when they said that they had too many, to share it with someone that needed it. I stopped at the Ronald McDonald house on my way to work and asked if they would perhaps need dinner catered that night. We had our own Thanksgiving dinner budgeted and shopped for so I knew that we didn't need this, it was more just an extra then a need. And the lady looked at me with the most incredulous eyes and said, someone just backed out and they didn't have dinner for the guests and probably wouldn't be able to find someone to sponsor their meal in such short notice. Is that not just such a crazy God thing?

When Second Saturdays rolled around, we spent four hours "giving back to the community" but the lessons and the ways that we have been blessed back have far surmounted those four hours. I have learned the power of compassion, of love, of healing and of God's amazing Grace and purpose. They are perhaps my highlight of the month, and it has been beyond neat being able to make friends and come together to do God's work. For the first time, I am so proud to be a part of a church I truly believe in that is so "hands on" and "real".

I'll tell you a secret, there's this greeter, she's African American and has a huge smile and is hard to miss. She makes my heart smile and I don't even have a clue what her name is, nor have I really had a conversation with her except to say Hi but I have seen the way she blesses others with her presence and her love. This, to me, is what North Point is all about. That it isn't just about the pastor, or the worship team, or the "leaders", it is about the collective whole that makes up this amazing safe place. It's that there are people from all walks of life reflected, from the older guy that rocks the guitar, to the cheery event managers and the serious all business coordinators. It isn't about the color you are, if you're rich or poor, or divorced or married, if you have kids, or have none, if you're a single parent or a grandpa, no, it's so much more than that. It is that no matter who you are, no matter what stage of life you're in, it's that you belong and that you have a place in the church. Whether you're a greeter, or a silent supporter, whether you're the face or a backstage hand, it is all these parts that make me so proud to call NPC my church.

In a year, I've definitely learned so much and while I am so incredibly sad to leave NPC, I am so excited for the healing that has come from it and for the things that are unfolding in my life. This last weekend, watching people from my Connect group get baptized and so many more at Freedom Splash was such a neat experience. It was humbling and beautiful. Thank you NPC for helping me 'see it', 'believe it' and giving me the courage to 'achieve it'. Again, what an incredible apt sermon, and on Independence Day no less. So while I prepare to go home to Malaysia, I know that I will definitely be so excited to share about this church I found in Springfield, MO and pray that I'll find a church similar to it with the same values and rockstar qualities. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Keep up the great work and I'm excited to be able to watch the podcasts and see what's to come for Northpoint.

"All that I've seen teaches me to trust God for all that I havent seen"

Have you seen my words?

2010-06-30T02:59:00.006-05:00

I vary between conflicting extremes of being so overwhelmed, so grateful, so heartbroken, and a host of other emotions that don't quite have words. It is easy, then hard, then sometimes paralyzing to think of the huge, monumental, incredibly big changes to come.

I am scared, I am nervous, I am excited, I am ready, I am terribly unprepared, I am stoked, I am sad, I am grateful, I am at peace, I am procrastinating, I am...well, a lot of things at the moment.

I have a laundry list of things to do but at the top, is spending some much needed time with friends before I leave and enjoying the moments. It's been a journey, and this journey is going out with a pop and a sizzle and a bang!

There are so many things I want to write about and share but in between savoring my last precious days with the people I love deeply doing all sorts of fun and crazy things that are uniquely from this area (I may or may not have gone to the waterpark 3 times this month with different groups of friends and have had a freaking blast each and every time!), there isn't much time to sit and organize my thoughts.

I'm also somewhat of a slow processor, it takes me a while to figure it all out in my head before I can give it words. Case in point, this beautiful amazing fun-filled crazy last weekend in kc. Six hours after getting back in, completely exhausted and delirious, I'm turning into bed so incredibly overwhelmed and grateful and as I whisper I love you to the sleeping boy. He whispers back I love you too and the floodgates open. I'm not talking a tear, I'm talking a rush of sobs and fragile emotions and what in the world was that?!?

So yeah, it's a little overwhelming at the moment. I hurt that I will miss so much but am so thankful for all the love and good wishes. It's a pretty little conundrum, I am so so excited to take this flight home yet a part of me is also so sad to leave. I leave behind not only my friends, but I leave behind this moment, this place in time of such happiness and friendships but take with me all the memories. I'm positive I could have worded that better but again, it's hard to put things into words when you're still trying to figure it all out yourself.

So for now, there's more hanging out, more shopping, more packing, more mundane errands and tweeting and crackbooking and avoiding.

"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

-Maya Angelou

Sweet Ass Faith.

2010-06-24T02:19:00.008-05:00

I called her, after. Fingers shaking, heart pounding out of my chest, needing to tear apart and analyze and be reassured. We met, in a little bar, a favorite...nothing like a strong drink at three in the afternoon. She said, take a picture. Remember this moment. And I thought, why in the hell would I want to to remember this moment?!? But I did it anyway. And she was Right.This, this is the day, it finally ended and everything began.

For a long time, I was so afraid I would lose who I was, my optimism, my positivity, my love for the little things. I was afraid I had lost my light, my beacon of sunshine and rainbows, my ability to smile like there was no tommorow or burst out laughing so hard I made funny sounds or just be simply easily amused. I was afraid that my spirit was crushed, the core of who I was torn and that I would be always so lost, so heartbroken, so cynical and angry forever.

So tonight, tonight as I lay my head down and see just how incredibly blessed I am, I see the bigger picture. I see God's amazing hand in the friendships I have built, the relationships that have been tested and strengthened. I see the bigger picture...and I so completely get it.

Tonight I can acknowledge how important it was to break, to fall, to be shook to my core..to rebuild. Because I appreciate so much more, I appreciate the definition of family and friendship, I appreciate what it means to love and be loved, I appreciate the little things I never saw before, never knew existed, things that were never tested or tried.

I'm at peace with the things that happened...I have forgiven, I have worked through, I have come to accept and move on and let go. But more than that, I am excited, excited for the things to come and the journey and all of the many many lessons that this will take me.

I wrote tonight of the decision to come home, of taking a year off to find myself, of praying and believing, of finding faith and trusting. I wrote of healing and loving again, of being excited and nervous at the same time, of being true to who I was and listening.

A year and a half ago, I thought I was happy, fulfilled. And the rug was pulled beneath me, I questioned, I cried, I was devastated and I wanted to know why? What now? How did this happen? How could this happen?

Tonight, I sift through hundreds of pictures of the "and everything after", an album of memories and how far I've come, of the love, the sacrifices, the joy. Each shot, a reminder of the emotions at that time, a marker. And I am blessed. I am so so very blessed.

I didn't know happy then, I didn't know blessed then, I didn't even really know much of everything then.

So tonight, as I prepare to go to bed, as we talk and crackbook and Twitter I realize, despite everything, I haven't lost me. I haven't lost the things I was so afraid I would.

It's taken a while but I'm here. I'm still me. I still believe and am sunshiney happy happy joy joy me.

And that, that is pretty freaking sweet.

Sent from my iPhone

"Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly."

-Unknown

Home.

2010-06-16T00:14:00.014-05:00

I watched his dad, so proud, so overjoyed, so at peace, to bring his son home. So much said without words. That pride, that sense of belonging, that immense depth of love that knows no words...I understood, as I watched, the weaving of emotions and the display of what it means to be called your own.

How do you describe the love? What it means to be loved so incredibly much? To be wanted so incredibly much? To be protected so incredibly much?

I called home. In the middle of another festival, another tradition of grandkids calling home and passing the phone to every single relative. An overwhelming experience. My big tough strong uncle who cried as soon as he knew, my grandma who's counting down the days, my mom and dad who have probably told everyone they know and then some more.

And so I made plans, to fish with my uncle for the very first time, a promise he made so long ago when my world was falling apart. The promise he made that brought so much comfort, not in the words or the actions but by the emotion behind it, the understanding. Come home he said, and so I am. I'm coming home and he's making good on his promise.

I made plans to build furniture(?!?), to do things I would normally never do, to explore, to live a little, to go above and beyond my comfort zone.

I made plans with my grandma to stay, to have her close and to go out and do all our favorite things together. To be there for her, to love on her, to entertain her.

I made plans with my aunts, who make delicious and fabulous dishes. They inquired and prepared and made a mental checklist. Sweet and sour ribs? Crab in sixteen different sauces? Noodles? Prawns? Asam fish? What else? What else? And I laughed and laughed as they threw out all of my favorite things, because I was so deprived, wasting away. It made me chuckle as they went round and round naming all the different foods because as one of us, as part of this family, you know that we are definitely fed. We are loved passionately and so deeply, and there's no denying that.

My mom, who is so incredibly excited and probably has my schedule planned well into the next six years, of holidays and elaborate dinners, of shopping excursions and mother-daughter things. The intimacy, a bond nothing else can come close. I have missed this, I have missed her.

My dad, who started looking at new houses as soon as I said I was coming home. The prodigal daughter returns and damn straight he's going to make sure there's room. He's quiet, but don't let the silence fool you, the silence roars. I laugh at the outlandishness of all of it, because really, we have three floors, how many more rooms do we need? But most of all, I am touched by his understanding. I am incredibly floored and humbled that he respects my need for space, my need for mine to be my own. I get it, I get it completely but more than that, it's that he gets me. I am not a guest, I am his daughter, and his daughter will have her room, her space. Without talking about it, he has understood, that it is pivotal for me to make decisions, to make this my own. I asked for just a room, to be able to decorate it how I wanted, to be able to claim it, to have some semblance of control in the chaos that will happen but he went far and beyond that. I love him, I love the way he loves me, this act of love, floors me. This act of love, makes me so incredibly proud to call him my dad. But what's better is knowing that even if he didn't, I would still be so proud to call him my dad.

And my brother, my koko, who has these elaborate and crazy plans on how we will conquer the world together. I have missed him, and I am so excited to get to know him better, to live together again for the first time in ten years, to just be that sister that just thinks the world of him and yet be able to prove myself, be able to make him proud, be able to work together. He has always been my hero, we have always respected and admired our individuality. The reason why we are great together is because we are so different. Yin and Yang. We may fight, and we may have drag out knock down fights and have completely different opinions, him the sensibility and me the heart, but at the end of the day, I know he's got my back and you're damn right I've got his.

I may be a grown woman, I have lived on my own for a long time and I may have moved across the world and have my heart completely smashed and be jaded and scarred and rebuilt. I may have had all these experiences and come full circle but I will always be their little girl. I will always be tachel or riecher or aputita or yowser or mei mei or so chiun or ra-ch-eal.

I have fought so hard to get here. I am scared and excited and overwhelmed about what's to come but I know I am also so incredibly blessed to have family. A safe place to land. A place to called my own.

"Other things may change us but we start and end with family.” -

Anthony Brandt

Closure.

2010-06-01T01:40:00.012-05:00

I wrote a year ago...stringing words into sentences. An email unsent. So angry at that time, so betrayed and devastated. Raw. I knew I had to put my feelings into words, to say the things I couldn't say. To find some semblance of peace, to start healing.

A year later, I wrote another email unsent. I wrote of letting go and moving on. Needing to say it out loud, to say I forgive you, to say I forgive myself. I wrote to find closure. Finally content, finally okay with never really saying anything at all. Resolved internally and finally at peace.

And ironically, this came in my mailbox the next day.

To begin, let me just say that I hope that you are happy and well. I know that I am probably the last person that you wish to hear from, but you were always so kind and genuine to me, that I know that you deserve this. I am, from the bottom of my heart, so very sorry for what you went through last spring. I'm sorry that I wasnt there for you, and I'm sorry that I didn't warn you about what was happening. At the time, I thought that I was making the right decision by keeping my mouth shut, but now that we are no longer speak to J, it is so obvious how wrong I was to just stand by, and watch you get hurt. I am not expecting you to forgive me for any of this. I'm not even expecting you to reply. I just know that you deserve a proper apology and that this was something that I without a doubt had to do. I hope that you are blessed with all of the happiness and love in your life that you can handle and I hope that your friends always prove to be much higher quality than me. You are such a sweet, warm, talented person and i thank you for all of the kindness you showed me. Warmest Regards, C

I spent an hour writing and rewriting a reply.

Overwhelmed.

Relieved.

So many things at once, but not sure exactly what to say or how to say it.

So I said thank you. So I told her how much it meant to me.

And the next day, we talked for an hour. Resolving, finding closure, a host of unanswered questions finally answered.

It was good, so good for my soul and for my heart. Forgiveness is beautiful but more than that, the closure, the resolution, knowing that this was my final piece and what I needed to close this chapter was so incredibly awesome.

I needed this.

And this, this was great.

"You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well."

Unknown

Garage Sale.

2010-05-27T02:12:00.008-05:00

I tried to think of the words, to explain how odd and incredibly surreal the whole situation was. A year later, in boxes and bags and storage units and attics of friends, were memories and things and knick knacks to be sorted through, remembered, put a value on. It was a little bit like seeing an old friend, the warm hug, an embrace of familiarity....yet it was so so odd. So crazy. So absolutely bizzare to uncover things and memories from what seems to be like a different life.

Yes, this was my kitchen and my little decorations, and oh, i loved those mixing bowls and lamp and those birds and those funny stories of little m and her drawings and how she can amuse herself and others around her for hours. Oh, and my wedding dress, and man, that is a gorgeous veil and I loved my wedding and the people in it and oh, look, I'm not sad. It's not tainted. I can smile and remember and holy shit, I can smile, and remember.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

A year, twelve months of intense healing and talking and lots and lots of whys, whats, how, where, who, what. A year later, I am stronger, happier, so so much more at peace. A year later, I understand why things had to happen, why the break and the fall and the incredible hurt and devastation. A year later, I am filled with so much hope for the future..but more than that, a year later, I see how it has all played out and just how incredibly bright and free and amazing the after looks.

And I am letting go.

This garage sale, the literal and figurative meaning rings clear. I have so much baggage, so much crap, so much miscellaneous random treasures and junk that I've been holding on to. The what ifs, the security blankets.

I'm ready, so ready, for a new beginning. For a fresh start. I'm ready to take my lessons and grow. I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to let go. I'm ready to start all over again, from the bottom, from where I started before and where I'll start again, I'm ready.

Bring it on bitches.

"Forgiveness is not the misguided act of condoning irresponsible, hurtful behavior.
Nor is it a superficial turning of the other cheek that leaves us feeling victimized and martyred. Rather it is the finishing of old business that allows us to experience the present, free of contamination from the past."

Joan Borysenko

the little things.

2010-05-19T03:07:00.014-05:00

Sweet loving Becca took my breath away with this gift for Easter.
(Artwork by Kelly Rae Roberts)

a new chapter. a new beginning. a new series of emotions and highs and lows. a purging of sorts and a catalog of words to mark the memories, the moments. the rawness of the new that in time, will fade, will slowly chip away.

i write this, not just for the right now, not just because writing is how i know best to "feel" my way through things. i write this, to remind myself, years from now...how far i've come. how dreams come true.

how to always, always, believe.

welcome you,

welcome to the rest of your life.

“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”

Robert Braul