Thursday, July 23, 2020

Dear Broad Squad...

I have felt compelled to share something with you all.

I am so sorry. About everything everyone is going through. About having to navigate the emotions, the journey, and the experiences through all of this. I have so much love for you all. My heart has doubled in size just knowing that none of us have to experience this alone. I pray for all of us daily and very intentionally. To have the strength and courage to voyage these rough waters. To be at peace with acceptance, and to trust in the support of each other. It's kind of a beautiful thing that we have been brought closer and now have the common thread of Mary Ann. And how that Mary Ann shaped hole inside of us may not ever  be filled, but will always be what makes her live inside us forever. I want to hug all of your hearts. But most importantly, I want to open mine up to each of you with some perspective that I hope you find valuable or comforting.

I am not going to talk about how incredible Mary Ann is. I am not going to talk about why everyone should have the opportunity to know her. Why? Because each of you that are reading this are here because of her, and whatever part of your journey she played, you know exactly why already. She has touched each of our lives, and though we have all had our own experiences with her, we can all agree that we could go on for a lifetime about how she enriched each and every one of us in one way or another.

I want to instead talk about grief. I want each of you to know that it manifests differently in everyone. Everyone experiences trauma differently. Everyone goes at their own pace when it comes to acceptance. And if someone is not experiencing it the way you are, or the way you expect them to, it doesn't make their grief any less intense for them. Don't let the way each other grieves divide you. Always remember the "why" behind the grief and understand that the grief is just the way love cries. 

We are allowed to be selfish in our feelings, but not to tread in those waters. We can be angry and upset that we have to lose a friend... That we want her around forever. That she was robbed. But one thing I genuinely believe is that we are NOT allowed to feel sorry for ourselves or for Becca and the kids. Before you think I am being heartless, hear me out...

Feeling sorry insinuates a sense of helplessness or doubt. But overall, let's look closer at what we are really looking at here...
Has there ever been a day that has gone by that someone, if not multiple people, have reached out, checked in, and offered help? Has there ever been a time where Becca or Mary Ann couldn't count on SOMEONE to help at the drop of a hat? Has there ever been a time where we haven't collectively sent waves of prayers, good vibes, light, laughter, or love? Has there ever been a time where we haven't figured things out together, even if it mean taking shifts at doing different things just to get the job done? Have we done our part to make sure Becca's stubbornness doesn't get the best of her when we know she needs help? Have we shown up and stayed for the hard talks? Have we showered the family with love and care? Is there ANY shred of doubt that we will continue doing these things forever on end? 

I look around at each of you, and I can certainly answer these questions with confidence. We aren't allowed to feel sorry because they will forever feel the love of this rather large extended chosen family. I am certain Becca is confident that between this circle of framily, she and the kids will be taken care of. I am certain that Mary Ann trusts that as well, and is comfortable leaving them in our hands. And let's  not forget the unwavering strength Becca exudes. It is not our responsibility to feel sorry. It is our responsibility to uphold the love, grace, and support that they need. That we all need...from each other. It is our responsibility to celebrate Mary Ann and the time we got to have with her. We will be there to have slumber parties with Becca when the bed feels...bigger. We will be there to take the kids while she catches up on sleep, or wants a night away. We will be there at every event the kids have. We will be there at every milestone, setback, and the in-betweens. To be so confident and so sure about this is honestly quite humbling and reflects the values of how this family works. And just because one chapter comes to a devastatingly unfair end.... it doesn't mean we close the book. We keep writing it.  

Please don't get me wrong...I am not minimizing anyone's feelings. Lord knows tears are a plenty and hearts are aching. And rightfully so!  I am simply singing the praises of the strength of this family. And how it is going to be the saving grace of such an unfortunate, emotionally heavy, and unfair loss. We will be deprived of future endeavors with Mary Ann, but we will not deprive ourselves of her memory, her family, or honoring her. Think about the blessings that have happened in our lives just because she has been in it. Think about the number of smiles and laughs that we got to experience because of her. Think about what we learned about life thanks to her. Those things are forever instilled in us. And forever instilled in Becca and the kids. Nothing can take that from us. And THAT is the very reason why I have no worries about Becca and the kid's future. Resiliency is as strong as the support that reinforces it. We are that support. And damn we are strong together. 

Cry it out. Reach out. Run 10 miles. Break shit. Experience your grief. Experience the hurt. But also remember that through loss much is found. And for the Hunt-Soulis family, they have cultivated a family so big and so selfless and so strong that the only thing left to be found is the gift of relief that everything is going to be okay. 

Look at how comfortable we are fulfilling this heart work. Look at how we have collectively gotten through this journey thus far, and how we have gotten this family this far. Now think about how warm that light feels on the Hunt-Soulis'. When Becca says things like, "No worries, I got it", she does. She is strong and she is confident. Because what that statement means is we've got it. And we do. Always.

All my love,
Beth


Tuesday, July 21, 2020

When Friends Have to Be Friends

Friends. How sweet it is to have them. How extraordinary it is to be one. When we think about friends, we think about fun and laughter. We think about "that one time that....". We plan, we talk, we laugh, we cry. Together. And it is so refreshing to be able to experience this part of life.

And sometimes calling people "friends" is insulting because they are so much more than that. They learn and experience the intricacies of who we are, how we are, and what we are. They understand the good, but they welcome the bad with open hearts. The worst memories, experiences, and secrets are all known and still, there's nothing but unconditional love. These are the friends who you ask to help you bury a body and they already have the hole dug, no questions asked. The ones who you have long conversations with, leaving your heart full and your spirit brighter....and maybe a little drunk sometimes.

And they are the ones that make honesty easy. Even during the difficult times. You see, there will come  a time in your life where you will reflect on these friends and realize that one day you will have to be strong for one of them. You will realize that "rounding up the troops" will be pivotal in the game of surviving heartbreak, trauma, uncontrollable circumstances, and Earth shattering truths/happenstances. The select few who are on go, always a phone call away for whatever you throw at them. From babysitting to witnessing a living will. From hiding out to volunteering for housekeeping/cooking. From pick up/drop off schedules to taking you out into a field to break shit. Doesn't matter because they are the friends who set limitless expectations in regard to support.

Imagine how much you love these friends. This circle of family that you got to choose. How much they mean to you, how much value they have placed in your life. How much your heart beats a little faster when you think about how blessed you are to have them. And then think about something happening to them, and feeling all of that just as intensely.

You hurt with them. You suffer with them. You go through every emotion with them. But... you must wipe your tears first so you can see clearly enough to wipe theirs. You must take deep breaths so that you can talk them through theirs. You must take two minutes to collect yourself so that you can tend to their fears/anxieties/wishes. And most importantly, you must have faith that YOU can get through the hard with grace, love, and patience so that you are at peace with yourself and can say you did everything to ensure their journey was an experience that justifies their worth. And there should be absolutely no excuse, reason, and zero doubt that that could be done without question. Your strength becomes their brave. Your commitment becomes their trust. Your sanity becomes their comfort. You are THAT important.

We are afforded one life. We get one shot at living it to the fullest. And part of that is fulfilling the responsibilities of sharing love with others. Even if it means helping those we love at the end of their journey to continue experiencing our blessings we cast on to them. We have to be their "fullest". We have to be each other's "fullest". We have to experience life with each other. The good, the bad, the ugly. Till death do us part. Forever and ever. Even when we have to face the "this is my forever" part of life with the ones we love the most....

Wednesday, July 1, 2020

Social ME-dia

We create this world online where we share parts of ourselves with others. Sounds uplifting, right? Well, the culture we have created is one of which depends on the validation to those posts. Do we post to spread joy, or do we post to receive it? Is either one right or wrong?

We sit behind these screens, trying to find the perfect hashtag, perfect line, picture, quote, or video. How much of who we really are gets diluted? How much of our real selves gets sacrificed because of fear that it isn't going to receive accolades when posted? 

Why are we so dependent on the feedback we get from others to feel good about ourselves? When did our self-esteem begin being measured by number of likes, hearts, laugh faces, etc? 

I want to challenge you to explore this. Really think about your daily routine and how often you post, what you post, and how many times you take a picture to get it exactly right, and how many times you write and re-write a post, and how much time you spend thinking of something you feel everyone will like. 

Now ask yourself 'why'...

My beautiful people! Stop wasting energy on others and invest it in yourself. If you feel the need to be validated, look in the mirror and tell yourself exactly what you need to hear! And believe it! Because YOU. ARE. AMAZING. Be unapologetically you. 

What does that mean?

It means screw capturing the precise froth art on your morning joe and spend time making mustaches out of them instead.
It means the 20 minutes you spent setting up the magazine-esque backdrop just for a picture that ends up being captured "Morning vibes", could have been spent sleeping in and waking up more refreshed.
It means being relatable, not someone who tries to one-up others.
It looks like a messy house where memories are being made rather than a perfectly crisp house where it appears nothing fun is happening.
It means washing the dishes tomorrow because popsicles outside with the kids sounds more fun.
It means that romper looks great and you should buy it, flaunt it, and not give a damn what anyone has to say about it.
It means not comparing yourself to others. Being vulnerable to your imperfections. 
It means living out your responsibility of being kind and loving, without expectations of reciprocation or praise. 
It means..... no one gets to be you but you. And recognizing how special that is. And understanding how that will ALWAYS be good enough. 

Stop anticipating other's mentality and start anticipating how much you can get out of life when you live it according to YOU. Your self-esteem does NOT get to be determined by others. Especially those shallow and insecure enough to judge you. You do NOT get to rob yourself of your essence because it doesn't align with trends. 

So, instead of perfectionism, embrace realism. When you spend so much time trying to collect 'likes' and 'followers', you steal your own joy and pride for who you are. And eventually you forget who that is because you have conceded to conformity and authenticity just becomes an illusion.

'Love yourself, no matter who you really are...'


Monday, September 9, 2019

The Friend Without Kids

Hi, my name is Beth and I am not a mother
.

Lately, I have been struggling with this notion, for several reasons. I have accepted that my plan did not work out. That's not the issue. The issue is that it doesn't take away the pain of not having a child or two by now. And the bigger issue, is that I internalize feelings of inadequacy regarding how my mommy friends see me....or don't see me, for that matter. 

I see my friends with their kids, having play dates, bonding, and loving each other's kids as their own. Their kids will be best friends, and my friends will likely stay very close. I wanted to take that journey with you all. I wanted to have kids be best friends with your kids. But it wasn't part of God's plan for me. And that's okay.  

But sometimes I feel selfish and needy, but more than that, I feel a pain in my heart about how much I don't see some of my friends anymore. They usually say things like, "Well it is just going to be a bunch of kids and moms and I didn't think you'd want to be around all that boring stuff." The truth... I do. I do want to be involved in that "boring stuff". Why? Because your children are a part of you.  A part of someone I love dearly and want to be around more. Because you brought another version of you into this world, and that is a blessing. Because friendship shouldn't stop when roads divide.

You see, my friends that are moms now, they get me. They always have and probably always will. But I cannot say that I get them, and I internalize guilt for that. I am not a mom. There's a lot I will not understand. But hear me loudly... I DO get children. I get parenting. I get the hardships. I get the work, the effort, the love, the chaos, and the journey. I don't have kids of my own, but I am helping raise 30+ kids on a daily basis. I teach them, and guide them, and give them advice. I help them grow, I support them. I show up for them. I get frustrated with them, I discipline them, and I worry about them. I am proud of them, I encourage them, and I tell them I love them. And I do. Do I have them in my possession 24/7? No, I don't, so I cannot 100% empathize with your life as a parent,but it doesn't mean I don't want to be involved.

I am not naive. I know you don't want the same things as you did before motherhood. I know your priorities have changed. I know that life is much more complex and comes with a whole new set of barriers and praise-worthy events. I know that a schedule is difficult to follow, and that life happens. But it happens for all of us. And I want to be a part of those happenings. And I want you to be a part of mine.
I am so incredibly proud of each of you for being the parents you are being. I am so proud that you are giving us hope for our future generations to come. I am proud that you are functioning through the chaos of parenthood. I am proud of who you have grown into. I am especially proud of the way parenting fits you. I am just so....proud. 
But I selfishly want you to be proud of me too. I have gone through very tough transitions in my life. I have reached, what seemed like, impossible goals. I have gained achievements and I have taken strides toward major changes in my life. And I have wanted you to be there for all of it. I want to make you as proud of me as I have been for myself. Why? Because you matter to me. We have seen each other through everything. You are part of the reason I have these goals. Because a lifetime worth of inspiration is from each of you. Because you believe in me, and would let me know regularly. I tried to keep in close touch. I tried to set up dinner nights. I tried to be involved. And while some of you respond, I know now that maybe I have been selfish. Or maybe I have just been misguided. Or maybe I have been jealous because you are where I wish I were at this point in my life. 

Please don't think I am angry. I am not in the slightest bit. I think I just have to accept that my timing is wrong. That I should wait for you to contact me as you adjust to life as a parent. I want you to soak it all in. I want you to not take time with them for granted. I want you to love them hard and tell them every single day that they matter and you are there for them. I never want you to miss a milestone, sporting event, heartbreak, fundraiser, dance recital, school project, or a mommy-child date. But I do want you to know that I want to see them in a tutu, I want to cheer for them from the stands, I want to go to their plays, and I want to hear all about their milestones. I want to do all that with you. Life has changed, we have changed, and our efforts have changed. But my love for each of you has not. Though life becomes a whole new level of beautiful when you become a parent, I know it can get harder and more complicated at times as well. I want to be there for you. For all the wonderful, and all the messy, and all the learning. 
I know life can get overwhelming as a parent. I want to support you through that. I know life with kids can require you to be at three places at once. I want to be a stand-in parent so that your kids have someone that loves them at events you can't make. Parenting is not easy. There are no instructions. There's times of feeling like you're failing your kids because you aren't the Pinterest mom. There are times when you feel like running away. Or you lock yourself in the closet just to get 15 minutes of quiet or sleep. I want to be the person you call from that closet. I may not have kids, but I am someone who wouldn't have to find a sitter to come help you with yours. I wouldn't be able to tell you how my day has been the same, but I can tell you how strong you are and how my closet is my car, and how I hide away in it often. I want to have movie nights with your kids where we bake treats and binge watch Pixar films. I just want you to know, you are embedded in my life, and I want nothing more than to make room in my heart for your kids, too.
I know you have your families now. I'm just saying I want to feel like I'm still a part of it, too. Because you are always and forever a part of mine. 

Much love to each of you. I love you all!

Beth

Sunday, December 30, 2018

Climb On

You know what ironically doesnt discriminate? Pain and heartbreak. It's universal, and it's a language everyone understands in some way, whether it's a break up, divorce, death, trauma, or a string of bad news. But love and restoration are also universal. This time last year I was in a pretty dark place. It wasnt just because of one thing, rather it was dealing with a lot of loss (including myself). I celebrated nothing. I was forced to go to breakfast for my birthday (which I am so thankful for now), and I had given up on trying to be genuinely happy for the time being. This year, however, I feel like I have an overwhelming amount of things to celebrate. And I realized how dark it was after losing focus of what I've gained over what I've lost. Sheesh, what a difference a year makes.

I could write about those hardships and difficulties I have faced, but I choose not to. Truth is, everyone faces them. If I'm going to look back over the last year, I choose to focus on what I have gained and accomplished instead. I choose to focus on the restoration.

I went to my first broadway show,
ran my 4th half marathon, got promoted at work, made new forever friends, started development on non-profit, achieved a healthier version of myself, celebrated my sisters engagement/marriage, raised my credit score, paid off a credit card, went on dates, had more first kisses, my blog reached 5 countries and had over 1200 views, went to therapy, went to Cali where I rode a road bike, partied, walked a suspension bridge, and where my comfort zone was challenged in more ways than I can count. I was blessed with the opportunity to be a part of a campaign that won LLS Woman of the Year. I learned more about loss and death, and how through the pain, they plant seeds for growth around everything and everyone they knew. I've reunited with people that will never not have residence in my heart, and I'm going on month 6 or 7 being vegan. I finally got to meet my best friend's girlfriend, and more importantly, I got to see (in person) how happy she is and how far she has come as well. I have learned how to take things in stride, to say 'yes' more to adventure and to say 'no' more to work-related pressures. Stress has recently knocked me to the floor, but I have a very strong support system that has helped me get back to health. I am finding balance in my life, and I have learned to love my new normal.

And... I took risks. For what seemed like forever, I was so incredibly scared to let people into my heart, as it was under construction. To take the risk, to chance feeling pain again seemed irresponsible to me. But risk is hardly risk when your heart is given back to you. Like a boomerang. And if you dont take risks, you miss out on moving mountains. On progress. On opportunities that fill holes and bury doubt.

I let my guard down, despite my unwavering determination not to. I didnt gently hand my heart over, I threw it. At the time, it didnt make any sense to me why I would do that. But, the concept of time introduced me to the art of indulging in experiences, and not taking opportunities for granted. But what I did not expect was my heart to be given right back to me. To get to experience how I love from someone else. Dont get me wrong, I feel I dont deserve it at times because I'm still trying to figure out balance and overcoming the fear of loss, but having said that, it doesnt diminish the capacity of the love I recieve, daily. I've learned it's not about giving your heart away...its about finding one whose beat has been missing from the soundtrack of your existence. And you dont know that it has been missing until you hear it. And it's the song that introduces the biggest plot twist... the one that makes you say "I did NOT see that coming, but I'm so glad it did."

So closing out a year that has been an uphill climb is bittersweet.... because this view from the top is overwhelmingly satisfying and breathtaking. A view that allows me to see all that I've been blessed with (the good and the bad). A view that puts into perspective the reward that arises from risk, sacrifice, and determination.

I have done well with forgiveness this year, for others, but mostly to myself. Theres so much more I want/need to work on still, and so opportunities will not be taken for granted.

In 2019 I'm challenging myself to make more meaningful connections with others. To live a more purpose-filled life, and to put myself first sometimes. To lift others up, and when they are up, I will let them know their work has not gone unnoticed. I will gossip less, and brag on those around me more. I will be more present. I will celebrate good news, and I will look for silver linings in the bad.

So, Happy New Year, and cheers to finding your next mountain to climb. May the views continue to be extraordinary. 

Monday, November 19, 2018

Learning The Most


I know with death, there is always a lot of confusion, wonder, and questions. There are a lot of thoughts and feelings that plague our hearts and our minds. We put a lot of pressure on ourselves when we tell ourselves (or when someone else tells us) that we have to get over it and move on. And we often overlook the fact that there is an alternative exit strategy to "getting over it", and that is to get through it. Some circumstances are not made for getting over...those are the ones we have to get through. And as bad as it sucks, and as painful as it is, getting through it requires a strength that you never knew you had, and one that you will learn to never let go of. It's empowering, really.

Life is short. We know that. Our days are numbered. We know that, too. It is so unfathomably unfortunate the way that gets put into perspective sometimes. But they are there. Those circumstances. No matter if they are expected, or come out of the dark and set your world on fire. They are there. And then pain consumes us, and we don't know what to do. So we are forced to grieve.

We all have our own way of grieving. Some of us cry a lot. Some of us sleep and withdraw. Some of us turn to others for support. Some of us consume things that make us forget momentarily. Some of us are seemingly selfish in our search for answers, demanding we get them, no matter how much it hurts others to give the answers. Some of us sit idly in denial. Then there are some of us that celebrate. Yes, you read that correctly. I said celebrate.

Lee was in a pivotal chapter in my life. I am honored to have known him, and I learned a lot in that period of time when he was a constant in our group. But, if I am going to be 100% transparent, he taught me more after his departure from his Earthy life than he did when he was here.

Let me explain:

Upon hearing the news, I hung up the phone and immediately called, without hesitation, someone I trusted who would talk to me about it in an honest capacity. I haven't spoken to this individual in such depth, about something so intense, in well over ten years. It was an automatic response, and I followed through with it. It was at that moment I understood what that part of my life meant to me. How it impacted my life. How, my friends were not my friends. They were my family. How no one could ever replace them, no matter what in life got in the way.

Fast forward to the service... it took me a while to figure out how to put my thoughts into words on this. It wasn't even about the amount of people there. It was about who we were. We represented a live timeline of Lee's life. He was in each of our lives, serving different purposes for each of us. We all had stories, we all had memories, we all had... "a nice time" with Lee at some point in our lives. Hearing the stories, just wow. With every tear on every cheek, on every row and those standing... they told stories, they stained our faces with sadness as we traveled through time hearing those stories.

But looking past the tears... the amount of love, the amount of support, the amount of light that was present was moving. People who haven't seen each other in years were reunited. People met new people. People made new friends. We all made new memories. All of that happened, and was made possible, only because our eyes, our hearts, and our minds were opened to the fact that life is short. We realized this situation was bigger than our feelings. It was bigger than our thoughts, opinions, and our assumptions about what happened. It was bigger than our sadness.

It's about understanding that our fall-outs with people shouldn't define our entire experience with them on our journey. It's about understanding that some wounds won't heal, but they don't always have to hurt. It's about the scars, both literal and metaphorical, that serve as reminders of what has instilled the strength we have today. It's about realizing how many people would selflessly place themselves in your darkness, just so you wouldn't have to navigate it alone. How do we not celebrate that? How do we not bask in the realization that one single person could fill a room with 39 years of experiences that bring us all together with one common denominator...compassion? How?

Fast forward to the fellowship that followed the service. Only Lee could host the party (reunion) of the year without even being there. It was here that I realized how special my friends are to me. How I was reminded of why I consider them family. And it was there that I realized there was nothing anyone could do to get in the way of that. Ever. We were able to talk, and laugh, and cry together. I felt guilty for laughing, but then, not really. I felt more thankful for my journey in this thing called life, and the experiences that have shaped who I am today than ever. I hugged people with deep endearment, I smiled with confidence, and my love for everyone there was unwavering.

Then there was the "After party", where everyone continued celebrating downtown. To me, this was the most pivotal part of the night. It is where a lot of us started over, even if it was right from where we left off. This is where I learned, with conviction, what life was about. It is about saying yes to more experiences. It is about finding your purpose, and living it. It is about not holding back, not being afraid, and not letting your past get in the way of your future. It is about letting go of assumptions, and living in the moment. People deserve the real you. Be that version of yourself. It is about appreciating your roots. Meeting new people and making new memories with every experience, no matter how significant or insignificant. Learn to be happy for people's successes, not envious. It is about accepting that life is short, and that each day we spend not being kind to ourselves or others, living in regret, living with hate in our hearts, or living naively with the mindset that we have all the time in the world to do what we want to do, we are depriving ourselves of our purpose. It's about understanding there is always something to celebrate. Always.

We put so much pressure on ourselves to live up to expectations that we allow others to set for us. This experience has taught me so much about cutting those chains, and focusing on what I want for myself. You can have your picture perfect photos that took you three hours to take, just to get the perfect lighting and angle. I want the candid pictures of me and my friends with out heads thrown back in laughter, looking a hot mess in sweats, sitting around a fire, talking about life and how we have even made it this far. Because that is real life. And sometimes, I lose sight of that. I am pretty sure we all do. And then something like this happens, and we are slapped in the face with earth shattering reality.

So how do we become more mindful and aware of when we lose sight? Well, for me, the answer was unfortunately discovered through the death of a friend, which has relentlessly reminded of some very valuable life lessons:

People are precious, and the journey you take with them has value. Always.
Experiences are not to be taken for granted, and are meant to be shared.
Everyone has a purpose, and the responsibility to be kind, compassionate, and forgiving.
Memories are to be cherished and talked about. Often.
Plans are to be followed through with, not just talked about.
The impact we have on others is limitless, and lasting. Make it positive.
We are influencing people when we don't even realize it. Make it inspiring.
Appreciation for the small things is scarce. Let's bring it back.
And finally, family is not defined by DNA, and there is always room at the table for more.

I understand that Lee is no longer physically with us, but through this experience, his presence has never been so prominent.

Be the kind of person who's memorial would be standing room only.

Many thanks, and much love to you, Lee.


Beth

And to those of you who were closest to Lee... don't pressure yourself to be "okay". Just be you. Raw you. In time, you will feel a sense of normalcy. Until then, just know that your support system is big enough to fill a church.

Thursday, November 1, 2018

The Note

There's no way I could express myself or talk about this because I could never make the illogic of suicide logical to those who aren't...me.

You will probably be so angry with me, and rightfully so. I am so sorry. So very sorry. You were there for me, and you were enough. You did enough. You loved me enough. This wasn't senseless. In fact, this was plaguing my mind throughout the day. Every day. You helped me fight. You helped me understand compassion. And you most certainly taught me about love.

You must have so many questions. Unfortunately, I have no concrete answer for you. That part is where I have failed most. I don't have the answers for myself either. And that is where I struggle the most. I didn't reach out overtly because I didn't need saving. I needed solitude. An intrinsic belief that my happiness didn't need to depend on others. You gave me moments. Glimpses of refuge that I longed to be able to give myself. This was not about worth, feelings of inadequacy, or lack of faith. This was about me battling a war within myself that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

But please know this: My laughs were real. My smiles you gave me were real. My heart loved genuinely. I have you to thank for all of that. My world without you would have been apocalyptic. Everyone who was part of my journey gave me reason to want to see what could happen next. How many smiles I could muster up, thanks to an incredible community of friends. What you don't realize is that none of this was to hurt you. You, in fact, kept me going. You gave me life. But somewhere along the way, I realized that without you, I was lifeless. My smiles were masks, and I was outgrowing them. Then you would do the next incredible thing, and I'd realize life was about moments, not the memories that come from those moments. And, unfortunately, moments can also be grueling darkness, laced with fear and uncertainty about whether I would ever be at peace with myself.

It isn't fair to you. I know that. And there is nothing I can say to make it fair. I know that, too. But, and please forgive me for this, this isn't about you. It never was. I would never do this TO you. I did this FOR me. There's a difference, and trust me when I say I struggled daily with knowing I would cause you much pain. I hope you can learn to forgive me. I hope you will never be able to understand this. I wish that on no one. Celebrate your resilience. It isn't as easy as it seems to many.

I know I am leaving you, but understand that the love I have for you is immeasurable. I lost my ability to make sense of life, but you were always there, reminding me that trying was worth it. And though I grew weak from all the trying, I have no doubt the collective strength you unknowingly bestowed upon me will inevitably be the same strength that gets you through this. I envy that strength. I always have.

Thank you. So much. For being the golden chariots that so gracefully carried me through my war-torn world.

Farewell.


Monday, July 2, 2018

Ex Appeal

Dear Exes,
You have all played a pivotal role in my understanding of preservation in regard to relationships. So, thank you for that. Exes dont always get the credit they deserve. So...
Thank you all for being exactly what I needed at that juncture in my life. Whether it ended well or not, I choose to focus on growth.
My hope is that I taught you as much as you taught me about life, love, relationships, and growth. I have learned so much throughout life, and much of that is from my time with you. Regardless of what phase in my life you were a part of, the love and appreciation I have for you measures the same.
The experiences we shared have given me the ability to do better, be better, and become wiser. I'm sorry it has taken me this long to realize that the aftermath of us is worth as much as when we were together. Manifested differently, of course, but still as valuable. I've learned how to navigate grief, anger, sadness, and loss. I have learned a lot about resiliency and recovery. Most of all, I have learned more about forgiveness... both giving it and asking for it... than ever through my relationships.
I have learned to compartmentalize my wants and my needs regarding my feelings. I still get mad, and sad, and feel pain at times, and it makes me want to hate (either you or myself, depending on how our story ended). But I realize I dont need to hate. I need to be thankful that one of us realized forever wasnt for us. So that we can have a chance with whoever forever is. Hurting someone is hard, and being hurt by someone seems harder. But pain is pain, and at some point we have to stop and ask ourselves, "What did this teach me?" instead of "Why did this happen to me?" When we learn to reflect on the truths of the relationship, we begin to see that even though we were a part of each other's lives, it does not necessarily mean we were part of a whole. For a while, we were a whole. We were as whole as we were meant to be for that time. We were wholeheartedly all in. And though we ended, it doesn't take away from the fact that there was a beginning and middle that shaped how we view what love looks like, feels like, and how different each experience can be.
You have also taught me about fear and bravery. Being scared shitless to give my heart away again. Scared of being hurt or hurting someone else. Scared to take chances and scared to do life solo. Scared I will never find a best friend in someone else like I did with you. But that fear provoked courage to do all of those things. The end of each of our relationships brought a chance for the beginning of a new one. And with each new one, new courage, new confidence, and new perspective bloomed. In other words, I'm doing something right if each new journey is different than the one before.
Break ups have taught me about effort, and how sometimes we become monotonous and stop trying. And how there's no such thing as compensating for someone's else's lack of effort. Lack of effort seems to mean lack of desire. Ouch. But it doesnt mean it is/was purposeful. We didn't plan pain, we didn't plan an end. And what we DO plan, well, sometimes it gets rained out...washing away everything that hides the truth and exposing us to the hard reality that our shore has eroded. And that's hard to face, but necessary nonetheless.
Whether we were together for ten days or ten years, each relationship has brought purpose to my life and depth to who I have become. I appreciate and will always preserve the best parts of each of you. Because, at the end of the day, some of the very best parts of my life were with you, and some of those memories will remain that way.
If I hurt you, please forgive me. At the time, I thought I was doing the best I could. If you hurt me, my forgiveness is yours. Thank you for the pain...it reminds me of how real my feelings were for you, and in retrospect, that's an extraordinary gift you have given me; the opportunity to love you.

Forever grateful,
Beth

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Moments are Medicine

I'm going to be honest, I did not want this weekend to end. I want to still be sitting across the table from my best friend, eating dinner and talking about her new chapter, watching her cheeks rise when she talks about it, experiencing in person how happy she really is now. I want to still be sitting at a table with friends and family, laughing until my face hurts. I want to still be talking wedding at the table with my sister. I want to still be sitting at the table with family at the island, soaking up the sun and eating crawfish. From the weather to the people, I could not have asked for a more exuberant weekend. And while the sun was warm enough to hug our skin, it wasn't near as warm as the people who were hugging my heart.

There was one moment, though, that I felt the most present and alive. As we were sitting at R&R, there was a moment where I just looked around the table, and in my mind the sound faded, and I just watched as everyone was laughing, smiling, and genuinely enjoying each other's company. We were throwing our heads back in laughter, wiping happy tears from our eyes, and having to take breaks from smiling because our cheeks were sore.This group has never been together before. Ever. But you would have never known it. No one was looking at their phone. No one was checking their watch. No one was in a hurry to leave. There was no time for awkward silences or feelings of discomfort. Everything was simply right. It was the first time in a long time that I felt I was right where I was supposed to be. Where I wanted to be. 

And if that wasn't already enough, hearing the news that my soon-to-be-sister-in-law told us that some unexpected guests will in fact be attending their wedding made my heart do cartwheels. That news alone would have made my entire weekend, and as we were writing down dates, and ideas, and to-do's, I couldn't help but get even more excited for October! 

I could go on about all the details of the weekend, but I won't. I don't need to. I have them locked inside of me, and I can appreciate them without validation from others. I simply wanted to make clear the fact that I have discovered ways to free myself from...myself. I have been told countless times to stop beating myself up, to do something that makes me happy, to move on. None of those things seemed possible for a long time. They still don't a lot of the time, but after this weekend, I have reassurance that happiness is something I can allow myself to feel without feeling bad about it. That I can accept that I have made mistakes, but I am worth forgiveness, no matter if it is immediate or months/years down the road. I am deserving. I don't want to miss out on opportunities to be present in joy. I don't want to worry about things that are no longer relevant to me. I don't want to miss something/someone so much that I dismiss taking chances on other experiences. 

If every weekend you get to experience the kind of joy I experienced this weekend, do not take that for granted. Do not become desensitized to appreciating those moments. And talk about them. Talk about what makes your face hurt. Talk about what in those moments meant the most to you. Talk about plans to do it again. Don't ignore the meaning of moments. Live in them, thrive from them, and grow into a person who radiates a level of liveliness that others cannot help but want to join. 

As there was so much to celebrate this weekend, I am at peace knowing that one of the things I can personally celebrate is the peace of mind I gave myself this weekend. I got out of my head long enough to make room for new memories. Here's to hoping for many more...



Monday, February 26, 2018

Full-Filled

It feels so good to love, and be loved. To share interests, and to learn differences. To know intimacy can be infinite, and your capacity to love is limitless.
It feels good to be challenged, to be pushed, and to be supported. To be in the company of someone who makes your mind, body and soul feel at home and at peace.
It feels good to look forward to the beginning of every day, and the end of every night. To get random texts that are laced with sentiment, for no reason other than to make you smile.
It feels good to make sense of the unknown with someone who is just as perplexed as you by the complexities of life. To explore the corners of each other's mind in an effort to decipher, or make sense of the shared connection that seems too good to be real.

I've missed this. All of this. I've missed it so much, and have wanted it so much, that I have tried to assign inexact meaning and feelings to people and situations. Misplaced and misguided emotions have provoked confusion and further pain. And perspective was, at times, dysfunctional. All because I've been so thirsty for someone or something that could offer the above mentioned desires. Just so thirsty.

But I started thinking about that thirst. And it hit me. If I'm so thirsty for something, it means my cup is... empty. My cup does not runneth over. You see, my relationship was the shelter for my being. But what was it sheltering? I don't know, anymore... that's the part of me I lost along the way. But that's not a terrible discovery. It simply means I get to find out who I am outside of identifying myself as a co-pilot in this flight of life. Exciting, right?

If my cup is empty, I have very little of MYSELF to offer. I have PLENTY to offer as a partner, as a friend, as a sister/daughter/aunt, and as a professional. But what about as a person? I don't know how to answer that without identifying myself as a part of those roles.

If we fill our cups with good, good will eventually spill out of us and into others. If we don't nurture the good in us, it becomes tainted, surely to produce a drout. How can we expect to meet the needs of another person when we don't feel like we have what it takes to meet our own needs? How can we be our own person if we keep drinking from other's cups instead of filling our own?

I keep saying I wish I could skip this part of healing and get to the part of my happily ever after. But why? Why would I want to skip this freedom to rediscover what makes me, me? When I meet someone, I want to be someone. I want to be confident that what makes up my persona is so extraordinary that it doesn't matter if it doesn't work out with someone else... because I'm happy with who I am, and i want someone who appreciates that about me.

If I were to get into a relationship right now, I could almost guarantee life would start to revolve around them. About what makes them happy, what makes them smile, and what I could do to show them how much they mean to me. I would spend my time making sure they knew that they are wonderful just the way they are. And none of that has anything to do with me. None of those things reflect my individualism. I don't want someone to like me for what I can do for them. I want them to like me for the person I am, flaws and all. If that's makes them happy, then what I am doing for them is secondary to what I'm doing for myself.

Don't get me wrong, I know and understand that relationships require sacrifice and compromise. But I'm not willing to sacrifice any part of me right now, unless it's for the people I love, currently in my life. I want to experience life without distraction. I don't want to be missing someone if I go on a trip. I dont want to wonder if my partner will be mad or disappointed if I want to do something that I know they aren't interested in. I don't want to miss out on opportunities because of someone else. And I know I would do all of that if i were to allow myself to be in a relationship right now.  I want to experience life with my undivided attention.  So, it wouldn't be fair.. to either of us.

You have to take care of the 'u' if you ever want it to become a successful 'us'. I May not want this time, but I need it. I need it to fill my cup. I need it to know that when I DO meet someone, I will be okay with taking it slow, despite the racing heart and honeymoon phase bliss, because I need to preserve what I feel are the best parts of me. I don't want to constantly be thinking of someone else right now. I want to constantly be thinking of my next exciting adventure in self exploration. I want to be a better me, so I can be better for the 'we' when the time comes.

Whether you're in a relationship or not, don't forget you are someone outside of the roles you take on. You are a person. Ask yourself who you are outside of those roles. If your answers are superficial and void of real meaning, please take time to rediscover what makes you feel fulfilled without others. And if you can answer with meaning, ask yourself if you're still doing those things for yourself. Fill your cup.


Lost in Loss

I've written this over and over, trying to get it right. To make sure that what I say holds the value and worth it deserves. But the tru...