Me

I feel 17 inside in so many ways and I joke that I am 21 for life. I know that I have grown incredibly since those days, and in so many, too many ways too count. I have “matured”, I have reached the points where you realize: that is your mother speaking(?!), I have LEARNED. But it has always amazed me, given me a moment where I need to pause and reflect; I AM still that “young” girl in so many ways. I have wondered if it is for others the way that is for me…


Those little things about myself that have NEVER wavered, the thoughts, the hopes and dreams, what I see when I look in the mirror; I am STILL that “girl”. If I look hard enough, I can see the new little lines in my face, the changes in my skin, and I can of course acknowledge the things that have altered certain thought patterns/beliefs. But, I still see that “spark” in my eyes, I feel that energy; the one that consumes you with interest and naivety, and excitement, desire, curiousity… I am not growing older, I am growing wiser.

There are times that I question that “wiser” element of life. We live only once in this lifetime, we experience this life one time; tough times, hard times, it doesn’t matter, we must do what is required to live life to the fullest. As we “age”, our rationale, our vision of life and the future, our toleration; it all seems to shift, even just enough to rattle who we have believed ourselves to be. We question our beliefs and our actions, in many situations because that is what we have been taught SHOULD happen when we finally “grow-up”.

I kind of, I DO, refuse to accept that for myself. In true fashion of “ME”, I snub my nose at society’s expectations of my future. I fully accept, and welcome all I have yet to learn, but as for my true spirit, the “real me”, I am not going to do much in the way of changing.

I like, love, myself just the way I am. In and out, ups and downs, I am the person that I am, who I was intended to be and “perfect just the way I am”.

The New Purse

I had carried a purse for at least 15 years of my life; always black and usually with some type of “silver” detailing, but always varying in size and shape.

Each, and every, time I purchased a new purse, I would promise myself that this would be the one that would be kept neat and organized, and never overfilled. Roughly a month later, that promise would be a distant memory, leaving me with an overstuffed and cluttered junk drawer!

Towards the end of my life with a purse 2 years ago, I may have begun to go overboard, but at least I usually had whatever little thing might be required in a given situation! I carried, among many other typical and some not so normal items, a little flowered hammer with a handle that unscrewed to reveal a few different screwdrivers, a tape measure, and a multi-headed screwdriver. Ok, yes, I am/was an Interior Decorator, but it wasn’t my attaché/briefcase/work-kit, I carried this stuff in my purse!

In a sense, a portion of my world, who I am was carried in my purse, and I always kept it close at hand.

Then came mommy-hood. Enter, the DIAPER BAG. Well, let me tell you, I was pleasantly surprised to discover what I could carry in it! Never mind that it wasn’t as “stylish” (okay, I am not a FASHION-ista in ANY SENSE, but I DO know what looks good and what isn’t acceptable!), it had room for most anything I wanted/needed to carry!

Times, they are a’changing! The need for such a large bag is diminishing and the NEED for some little piece of ME is screaming out! So, a couple of days ago, I went out and brought home a little something for Mommy, a little beauty that I have been eyeing up.

She’s pretty; small, black (of course!), white stitching and including my favorite silver detailing! Just the right size for what I intend to fill it with put in the designated places. I pledge anew that she will be kept clean and clutter free, and this time, honestly, I mean it!

I AM Going...

As though a distant memory of another life, or perhaps a glimpse into the future of this life, I am at times overcome with a feeling of nostalgia, recollection so deep it seems to come from within the blood that flows through my body. A picture is all it takes. I am taken to a place inside that screams “take me there now! I miss being there…”

I have this vague knowledge in me that seems to come from my earliest memories, I recall books and shows, and as I watched, I KNEW these other countries, these other places were to be in my life. I would be there, no questions in my mind. There was to be this unbelievably amazing and magical life that was waiting for me; funny, the “magic” age that I always saw for myself, from a young age, was 45; still got a few years to go! Was/is it a naïve assumption that “it will come” to me? Could it possibly be something that is destined for me and I have always known it?

I can, at this time, only drink in, soak up and revel in these overwhelming feelings, glimpses, memories… Which is just fine for me, right now. I am taken to some beautiful places that I look forward to being in, and I WILL be there.

"I am going to that country which I have all my life wished to see." -William Blake

Who I am

I am who I am; who I was intended to “be” on this journey. I am the person that I should be BECAUSE of what I have lived, not despite it.

I learned long ago that blame was pointless. I am and have always been responsible for my own life. Sure, there are things in my past that “shouldn’t have been”, but the fact remains, that IT WAS. Regret and blame fall to the side because it cannot be changed, I can only move forward. There is nothing that any one person could have DONE or NOT DONE differently in my life that would have changed who I am today, whatever their role at the time, however they responded to “me” in the moment, was exactly how it was supposed to have been.

The dark, the sad and the scary things I have lived through were necessary in bringing me to this point in my journey. While I may have experienced or done things that came from a place where I dare not step now, I learned so much during those times; if I take the time to honestly look at/examine the events.

As I continue to grow, I find myself wondering why we hide these truths about ourselves. What makes us feel reluctant to share the things that helped to create the person we’ve become? The harder we try to ignore where we came from and pretend that certain things never happened, the more pieces of ourselves we lose. To know who we are and where we are going, we must acknowledge where our roots began. To deny our past in any form only prevents us from really growing in every aspect of our journey.

If I can’t be open and honest about my truths, how can I believe that I have truly worked through and learned anything about my life and who I am?