The Aftermath of Reporting Rape

I was raped when I was 16 years old. This is a statement we are hearing from countless women, though the age may be different, in all forms of media. We’re hearing it so much, in fact, that I fear we are going to become desensitized to it. Well, I fear that men will become desensitized to it. Women already are. We already deal with this and move forward. We process our trauma, or don’t, and continue to live our lives. Then we are judged for that. We are judged if we fall apart and we are judged if we stay strong. I will be judged for writing this. The honest truth is, I really don’t care. I’ve survived judgement before. I’m sure I’ll be okay. Here is my story.

I was raped when I was 16 years old by a ski mask-wearing stranger after a football game. He kidnapped me, beat the hell out of me, and raped me. Afterwards, I just wanted it to go away. I truly considered not telling anyone. I knew it wasn’t my fault. I still thought about not telling. I thought I could just go home, take a shower, and it would go away. I had no idea how badly I had been beaten and that there really wasn’t the option of going home and pretending it never happened. My parents would have noticed the black eye and the huge patch of hair ripped out of my head. But I seriously considered not saying anything about it. Then I passed a police officer and decided to tell him what had just happened. I’m glad I did, but it wasn’t easy. The following years weren’t easy.

This was big news in the town I lived in and everyone was talking about it. I received so much support from friends and family, but there were people who had no idea how to handle it. I got the pity stares, the awkward glances, the hushed conversations when I walked into a room. There were some crazy rumors about what actually occurred that night and I had to either suffer the false stories or combat them by telling the truth. I chose to talk. I told so many people, strangers and acquaintances, what happened it became almost like a story I was telling about someone else. At 16, you don’t want to be the center of attention. You don’t want to talk about sexual encounters. I was doing both. It turned out to be good therapy for me, but not every teen girl can do that. My father and I sat across from the Chief of Police as he asked me what I was wearing and why I was sitting in a parked car on a dark street, as if any of this was my fault. Luckily, I was more stubborn and headstrong at 16 than I am now. He didn’t upset me or make me feel guilty. He pissed me off and I told him so. Not all teen girls will do that. I dealt with a few people who made comments about how I was “broken” or “damaged goods” or another name that I won’t even type today. They pissed me off then and I pity them now. They didn’t make me doubt myself, but not all teen girls will react that way.

Even worse than what I was dealing with was what this did to my family. I had to tell my parents that I was attacked. They were devastated. They felt helpless. They were terrified every time I left the house after that on a much deeper level than they had been before. My brother and sister lost some of their innocence that day because they realized that bad people really exist, not just in stories. My family was amazing. Now that I am a parent, I truly don’t know how my parents allowed me to live my life after that without having panic attacks every time I walked out the door. Because they allowed me to live, I healed faster. I thrived. I didn’t fall apart. I made an amazing life for myself and was able to see this trauma for what it was, just a page in my story. I had a few lingering issues. Whenever I talked about it, I would get a rash on my chest and neck. I locked car doors as soon as I got in. No matter how many times I looked up the date, I would always forget it. Little things. Overall, I think I handled it extremely well. I didn’t realize that I would be judged for that too.

The man who raped me was captured 25 years later. I had put this far behind me by then. I was at work when I got the call from a detective that I needed to come in and give a statement. I called my husband, called my parents, and headed to the police station where I found out that they had captured the attacker and I calmly gave my statement. Apparently, I was too calm for the officer who told the newspaper that I was nonchalant. NONCHALANT! I guess this man expected me to break down in the office of a complete stranger while I talked about an attack that happened 25 years before. I guess I wasn’t supposed to move on, to heal, to build a life that I loved. I’m still a little pissed about that one, but I’ll get over it. It does bring up a couple of questions I’ve been pondering. Just because I survived, thrived, and was no longer broken, did that mean that the rapist shouldn’t be punished? I see people not believing a victim because they’re “not upset enough”. Because it had been 25 years, does that mean the rapist shouldn’t be punished? My opinion, it shouldn’t matter how long it has been or how strong the victim is. When one person violates another, they deserve to be punished. Period.

I digress, I wrote this in response to the “why didn’t she report it then” comments. There are a lot of reasons to not report. Rape is unlike any other crime. If my car had been stolen, I would not have had to endure any of the things I mentioned above. If a drunk driver had wrecked into me, I would have never been blamed or considered “damaged goods”. It takes incredible strength to report a rape and live with the consequences of reporting. It also takes incredible strength to not report a rape. It is a very personal decision and no one can say what they would do in that situation. Even me. I know what I did in my situation, but I have no idea what another woman’s circumstances are. I don’t know what her family is like, what her friends are like, if her attacker is well-known or well-liked or famous. Each woman has to make the decision on her own and if she changes her mind 25, 30, or 50 years down the road, it is her story to tell and she can tell it whenever she chooses. You don’t get to decide that for her. She deserves to be heard. The incident must be investigated. The perpetrator, if found guilty, must be punished. That is all.

Depression - The View From the Cheap Seats

It's been a long time since I've written here. I used to write when crazy things would happen and I needed to sort through my thoughts. Lately, there are so many crazy things happening that I would be writing full-time so I tend to just discuss things briefly with my husband rather than write them down. This one I can't discuss, though. Not without doing the ugly cry and speaking at a decibel that only dogs could hear. This one hits too close to home.

The events: In the past couple of days, two high-profile, extremely successful, older individuals committed suicide. Both apparently suffered from depression. Kate Spade was 55 and Anthony Bourdain was 61. As you can imagine, these events caused social media to explode with posts about depression and suicide. One particular post made my brain shift into overdrive:

     "Depression isn't a form of sadness. It's not something that goes away if you just think about how        good you have it or how successful are you. You can't positivity it away. It lies to you about                yourself and eats you from the inside and tells you that you alone make things worse."

My thoughts: I do not have depression. My daughter does. Looking back she probably always has, but she was diagnosed at age 18 and began taking medication at 19. When she first began sharing with me her anxiety and depression, I didn't handle it well. I was that person who says the most unhelpful things like, "what have you got to be depressed about" and "shake it off". I had no fucking clue what she was dealing with. I've come to realize (or rationalize) that it wasn't just my ignorance that made me respond that way. It was because I wanted, no I NEEDED, her to be happy. I couldn't accept that she didn't control it. I wouldn't accept that she could not see herself the way I saw her, no matter how much I told her that she was wonderful. It's only through her persistence and patience in explaining to me that I have come to understand that she will always have depression. She will always suffer from it and will have to fight herself for the rest of her life. One person responded to the above post with, "it is an illness of irrationality, not sadness." She will always have to fight that irrationality.

I've also come to understand that although I don't have depression, I too suffer from it. I suffer from her depression. I suffer because this amazing, strong, talented, wonderful person I adore will never see herself that way. I suffer because it breaks my heart into a million pieces to think that her entire life will be a fight, a battle against her own mind. I am constantly on the emotional roller coaster of being utterly amazed and humbled by her strength to fight and her incredible self-awareness to being terrified that one day the fight will become too much and she will give up. That's why reading about people who are older, who fought for so long, committing suicide sends me into a panic. But I have to panic silently. I have to hide my fear and broken heart from her to make sure that her brain doesn't take that information and translate it into "mom would be happier if I were gone. I'm causing her too much pain." So, I'm here. Typing while doing the ugly cry, gasping and sniffling.

I will continue to devour all the information I can. I will never stop trying to learn about this disease, even though I know I will never truly understand. And I will go home and hug her tight, tell her again how proud I am of her and her strength, and pray that it helps even a little.

I'm not looking for sympathy. I know that she is the one on the front lines. She is one who needs help, support, understanding. I just thought I would share what depression looks and feels like from the cheap seats.

The Significance of International Women's Day

Happy International Women's Day! I wanted to take a few minutes to explain why this day is important to me. For me personally, it has nothing to do with needing recognition or appreciation, and it definitely is not even remotely political. This day is just a great reminder for me to pause and reflect on how wonderfully blessed I am.

I come from a very long line of strong women. I am friends with more amazingly strong women. I work with even more inspiring and strong women. I am blessed. You see, none of these women are strong in exactly the same way. Some are the in-your-face, take-no-shit, never-back-down kind of women. Some are the do-it-all, take-care-of-everyone-with-a-smile-on-my-face kind. Others are the quiet, calm, lean-on-me-when-you've-had-enough-and-I'll-help-you-back-up kind. Most are some combination of these types. I have been incredibly lucky to grow up witnessing how each of these women inspire and shape our world and I need them all. I am also raising an incredibly strong woman and feel it is my duty to do so.

I come from and am surrounded by the absolute best kind of men. The men who have never doubted, and therefore never made me doubt, that I could do anything. Men who were/are confident enough in themselves that they could be supportive of and encourage my strength and the strength of all the women in their lives. Men who have pushed me to excel, challenged me intellectually, and have never treated me like I am less than or fragile because I am a girl. I have honestly never heard, "Girls can't do that" from any of the men in my life. I don't even know if it was a conscious effort on their part. I tend to believe that they were also influenced by the women I mentioned before and just never considered that I should be sheltered or discouraged from doing or learning. I am raising this type of man and feel it is my duty to do so.

This day means different things to different people and some don't seem to understand the need for it at all. I view that as progress. I hope we get to a point where no one sees a need for this day because all women are raised and are supported the way I have been. We're not there yet. Even here in America there are still men who see women as lesser people and there are still women who have no confidence in their ability. I have encountered these men a few times, not so much in my personal life, but definitely in my work life. Again, I'm lucky. Because of the way I was raised, their opinions don't have any impact on my self-esteem. I actually pity them and quite often put them in their place rather quickly (I'm the in-your-face, take-no-shit kind of strong in case you were wondering :) ) There are women who are still fighting an uphill battle daily to rise above their upbringing and their circumstance and to see themselves as worthy. As long as there is even one woman like this, I will speak out, support her, and fight back against anyone telling her that she isn't enough. I feel that is also my duty.

Take a moment today to acknowledge the strong women in your life and throw in a "shout-out" to the men who support them.

My Humble Attempt at the Christian Perspective

I've been thinking a lot about why I'm so bothered by some people's response to the refugee situation, especially those that say they are Christians. I've come to a few conclusions and I'm going to try to express them here.....

Let me start by saying that I am by no means an exemplary Christian! I can't recite Bible verses to you, I often forget the names of the people in the Bible, I have tried to read it many times and keep getting hung up on the "who begat whom" section, I have a potty mouth, I have a wicked temper, and I have some serious control issues that I'm trying to work on. All that being said, I realize that the following is not right for everyone, but this is what I believe God is putting on my heart because it's right for me.

I think this all boils down to trust. I trust God. It's one of the most difficult things ever for me. It really is, but I believe that God is in complete control of my life and of all circumstances. I have to work at giving things in my life over to God because I'm a control freak. I feel best when I have a plan. I've learned over the years, however, that being a Christian means being an active participant in your life (ie: planning), but realizing that the ultimate control is God's. So how does this apply to the refugee situation? I believe that it is my duty to show kindness and be an example of God's grace to every person, regardless of their past, their religion, their circumstances. I'm not always good at this. As I've stated, I have a temper and I can be cruel. Usually that is in response to someone else being cruel to someone I love, but if I get off on that tangent I'll never get explain my point about trust. So, I believe I need to be an example of kindness and grace to those that God puts in my life, not to those I pick or that society deems worthy, and I believe that God will protect me and is powerful enough to keep me from harm. Yes, bad things happen. So why does God allow bad things to happen? It's my opinion that it is because He is going to use the bad thing to teach and reach more people than if he stopped it from happening. However, I think the enemy uses fear to keep Christians from leading others to God. I don't think I'm doing a very good job of explaining this so let me give an example.

In June 2015, on a regular Wednesday night, the members of a Charleston church were at their usual Bible study. A man walked into that church and sat listening to the message. He was welcomed by the church members who had no idea that he was there to kill them. For a moment, by his own admission, he considered not going through with his plan. They were so nice to him that it almost changed his mind. Almost. Nine people were murdered that night during their Bible study. It was a horrible act of violence and particularly disturbing because it occurred in a church. Here is what I personally have learned from that act and from the response of the family and community....

Do I think that God could have stopped that act? Absolutely! I believe that God is powerful enough to defeat the enemy always. We will never know how many people have contemplated similar and they were stopped somehow. However, I truly believe that God knew the world needed to see the response of the families and the community that He knew would occur. I believe that had that young man's heart and mind been changed by the kindness of the church members then one person would have been impacted, but by allowing that tragedy to occur thousands were instead. The community rallied together and became closer than ever. The families of the victims responded to the murderer and the world with a grace that left me and many others in awe. The President of the United States even mentioned it in his farewell letter this year! The world watched as Charleston didn't respond with hate and violence, but with love, being an example of what Christianity is. A ripple effect was that the Confederate flag that had become a symbol to many of hate and suppression was removed from the statehouse. Further demonstrating South Carolina's commitment to love and inclusion.

I believe the refugee situation is similar. The churches in the area did not respond to this tragedy by shutting their doors and not allowing strangers in. They opened their arms despite their fear because that is what they are supposed to do. People keep mentioning 9/11 as a reason to shut America's doors to Muslims and I get it, it's terrifying to think that something like that could happen again. However, I like to believe, I HAVE to believe, that God will protect us. I believe that if we open our arms to those in need and live according to His calling then He will bring those individuals in that need to see His grace. I also think that if we allow the enemy to constantly remind us of our fear on that day, then we are allowing evil to win. Could we die? Yes and that is an almost debilitating thought. I don't want to die. I'm not ready. I don't think I've accomplished enough yet. But I'm not arrogant enough to think that I get a say in that. God will decide when I'm done. God will determine when and how I leave and I think that is decided by whether I will make a bigger impact with my life or with my death. The good news is He will use me to make an impact in the best way. You see, I think that dying the way those church members did, and I don't mean by being shot I mean dying in the act of living out Christian values, is the best possible way to die. I believe that as painful as it was/is for the people left behind, those nine souls were welcomed into heaven with fanfare. I don't think as Christians we should be afraid to die. That is our homecoming after all. To clarify, I don't think we should be reckless and rush it. We need to follow our heart and God's principles. It's going to be scary, but doing something in spite of your fear, in complete faith of God, is kind of the point of our life. I personally would rather live my life fully, doing my best to be an example of Christian values, than by hiding in my house waiting a death that is sure to come anyway.

Look, I'm not going to deny at all that I'm not always the example of Christian values. I'm human. I fail. A lot! And I will also admit that it is much easier for me to talk about taking risks when I'm thinking of things I will do and the chance of MY death. It is a completely different, almost unbearable thing when I consider harm coming to my children. But again, I HAVE to believe that God will keep them safe and use them how He needs to.

One of the messages circulating on social media is..."I lock my door at night not because I hate those on the outside, but because I love those on the inside." That's a little misleading. I won't speak for other people, but for me personally I lock my door at night because there are bad people intent on doing harm and I don't want to make it easy for them to hurt my family. However, I need to believe that if another human being was banging on my door in the middle of the night in absolute terror asking to be let in because someone was trying to harm them, that I would take the risk and open the door. It could be a hoax, they could hurt me and my family, but I would rather die trying to help someone than live knowing I could have but didn't because of fear. So, yes, have processes for vetting refugees. Do what we can to keep the people on the inside safe without closing all doors to those in need. We never know who will come to know God because of our example.

Just my thoughts.

Alice in Wonderland

It's official....the world has gone mad! This really must be how Alice felt when she fell into Wonderland? I've been learning that people aren't who I thought they were and it's making it hard for me to know what to believe in anymore. We are only a week into Trump's presidency and I feel as though I'm watching a bad plot line unfold and I'm powerless to do anything about it.

First, the Women's March. In case you have the extreme will power to stay off of all social media and news outlets, the Women's March was a march on Washington that took place the day after the inauguration. Millions of women came to have their voice heard on a variety of topics and issues in PEACEFUL (I highlight that for a reason, which I'll address in a minute) protest. For me personally, seeing all of those people from different religions, races, backgrounds, and classes come together in unity was a beautiful sight and it made me feel hopeful about the American public for the first time since the first debate of this horribly brutal election season. That hopefulness was short-lived however, when I made the mistake of venturing onto Facebook to share my positive outlook. Apparently, there were many people in my life and around the country who not only didn't get it, but didn't even want to try to. The March was denounced as whining because Trump won and/or Hillary didn't, a hateful display of man-bashing, ridiculous, useless, and the worst I saw "those nasty women who want us to pay to kill their babies". Yes, someone actually said that!! The hatefulness and ignorance stunned me and the fact that it was from those I care for saddened me. I couldn't understand, and still don't, how people could take issue with a peaceful protest. It's one thing to not understand the need for it and a totally other thing to attack it. Protest is a right! Some of the freedoms that I enjoy today such as voting, working outside the home, being able to express my opinion without my husband's consent, I have because of women who marched before. I don't understand why, if you aren't impacted at all by this protest, you would have a problem with it. I've thought about it a lot and came to a couple of conclusions that I never wanted to come to... 1) some people are determined to be angry and hateful even when there is nothing to be angry or hateful about. 2) Being a strong, opinionated woman does not automatically make you a feminist. The first conclusion was only new in the fact that for the first time I realized that some of my friends and family fell into this category. The second kind of floored me. I had been incredibly naive in thinking that if you were a strong, opinionated woman that you were automatically a feminist. That is not true. I am surrounded by strong women, but have come to realize that only a very few feel that women can do or be anything, are supportive of other women, or even understand what feminism is. (HINT: it is not hating men. I know men that are feminists).

Second, and the one I'm still reeling from, is the Executive Order on Immigration that President Trump initiated this weekend. For clarification, I am not against the idea of this order. I think that we absolutely must not allow just anyone and everyone to come to America. My reasons are probably different than most. I'm not scared of refugees, I'm not afraid that terrorists are going to come in and kill us all, I just think that we have enough problems with the people we already have that it would be foolish to bring others in that put additional strain on a system that is at the breaking point anyway. What has me completely freaked out about this order is how ridiculously unorganized and unplanned it was. There was a rush to implement that caused absolute chaos. It was irresponsible at best and malicious at worst and it is absolutely unacceptable to exclude anyone based on their religion or to ask them how they feel about Trump before letting someone into the country. This man was not elected king, dammit! Obviously, I can't even really write objectively or coherently about this right now. My mind is still spinning from the ignorance I've seen on Facebook regarding this order. So instead, I'm going to list a few of the things I've seen and respond to them here.

1. The idea that we need a limit on refugees and/or immigrants and that we need extreme vetting. Well, yes, we do. But guess what??? We already have both! I work in a field where many of our best and brightest are here in this country on work visas, visas that there is a limit on, visas that require ridiculous amounts of information, several lawyers, and a long process to obtain. These people are not here to do us harm and are not "freeloaders". They are brilliant, they pay taxes, they contribute to society. Hell, I'd rather have these people that some of the Americans I know.

2. The ridiculous excuse that Obama did the same thing in 2011. Nope. He didn't. He didn't ban anyone. He slowed the process of allowing new visas or visitors from one area in response to a credible threat and the purpose was to review the vetting process to make sure it was as stringent as possible. Side note: please explain to me how the same people who swear that Obama was Muslim are now swearing that he had a Muslim ban in 2011! Really! I would love to understand that.

3. And here's the worst one! The one that caused me to unfriend two people already today with no regrets whatsoever. The picture of the twin towers on 9/11 with the caption "here's a reminder for all of those opposed to the Muslim ban." Dear God, people are so stupid!!! First of all, that was over a decade ago and the people who committed the acts weren't even from the countries that Trump has banned so they would still get into the US. Second of all, holding all Muslims responsible for 9/11 is the most ridiculous, fanatical thing I have ever heard of. I was attacked by a black man when I was 16. Should I hate all black men now?? Should all white, Christian men still be held responsible for slavery?? It's just pathetic!

Once again, I am devastated that the people I care about are so easily manipulated. I'm sad that women aren't feminists and that Christians aren't empathetic. I'm horrified that people I believed to be intelligent believe false information and rush to judge everyone. I feel very alone and very helpless right now. Worst of all, I was very wrong and I hate being wrong most of all. I actually made the statement that Trump couldn't change my world. He absolutely has.

Voter ID Requirements

There has been so much to talk about in this election, it's been difficult to focus on one issue. This topic, however, has me stumped. When I first heard about it, my immediate reaction was, "Well, of course you should have to present an ID to vote! Why would that be a problem." It seemed so common sense to me that I had to research why people were against voter id laws. What I found is that the parties care very much about who can and cannot obtain an id, but only on election day. If they cared this much the other 364 days of the year, the government could provide ways to make it easier for all citizens of voting age to have an id. I also found that some of the proposed voter id laws are ridiculous and are obvious attempts at voter suppression.

First, the obtaining an id issue. The argument is that people have certain issues that prevent them from obtaining a photo id. While some of these are legitimate, others are just excuses. Some of the obstacles listed are; no transportation, work schedule conflicts, distance required to travel, and lack of proper documents needed to obtain an id. If you have transportation to vote, why can you not get transportation to get an id? Work schedules can create a big problem, but many states have opened DMV locations on Saturdays to assist with this. SC is one of those states. Distance required to travel is also a legitimate issue. For many people living in poor, rural areas of Texas the drive would be 250 miles round trip to obtain an id. These are legitimate issues for some, but if the parties and/or celebrities were as concerned with helping people overcome these obstacles as they are with getting people to the polls we wouldn't have an issue at all. One idea I had is to have a mobile id van that goes into rural areas, poor neighborhoods, and retirement homes once a month to bring the id to the people instead of making the people come get their id. I've also seen celebrities donating to causes that will supply rides to get people to the polls, supply child care so people can go vote, and provide food for people waiting in long voting lines to make sure they stay and cast their vote. Why not donate to these things so that people can go obtain an id?

Second, some of the voter id laws that are ridiculous. In NC and Texas, two states that have been called out for their obvious attempts at voter suppression by the courts, what constitutes a valid id is ridiculous. A voter can use their concealed carry permit, but not their student id. That's just absurd. Making a photo id necessary is not suppression, but limiting what can be used as a photo id is. Student ids and workplace ids should be sufficient to prove a person's identity. They are sufficient to cash a check, take a drug test, and even to get a state issued photo id.

I am all for requiring a photo id to vote. We have to prove our identity to do far less important things than elect the leaders of our communities, cities, states, and country, but it goes much deeper than that for me. I think all citizens should have an id even when it's not an election year. I think having one would make their lives much easier because they would be able to do the things that require identification without constantly finding other means. I mean, I can't even by Robitussin without showing my id. Can you imagine being sick, going to the pharmacy, and not being able to purchase a particular medicine because you don't have the proper identification?? I believe it will give them a sense of belonging. This may be slightly naive, but I absolutely believe it. Because of this, I think the government should help everyone get an id. There are going to be those that don't have the proper documentation. Some of these cases could be easily bypassed by allowing other documents on a case by case basis as these will be the rare occurrence. Even making some allowances there will be those that have to navigate some red tape to obtain an id. While I sympathize with those people, there will never be a law that makes everyone happy and we have to address the majority cases. One way to help those rare cases, however, would be to have a fund to offset the legal costs to get a corrected birth certificate or legally change their name. Perhaps it could be funded from some of the campaign funds from each party. ;)

Living in the Moment

I am an idiot! I have been feeling so out-of-sorts lately. I’ve been restless, anxious, and even downright unhappy (which is not me at all) and I’ve just realized that I’ve done it to myself! WTH?! Ok, the good news there is that I also can fix it myself. Let me try to explain my recent issues…….

I used to be a very “life is about the journey, not the destination” kind of girl. I appreciated the process of living, of how fluid life and its situations are. I even would avoid planning too far ahead because there were always too many variables that could impact that plan that I didn’t control. 

Somehow, over the past six months, I changed that perspective. I just didn’t know that was the problem. For the last six months I’ve been feeling so restless and anxious. I’ve been feeling like I needed to change something; my job, my home, my city, SOMETHING. I just couldn’t put my finger on what. It’s been a very weird time because I was also annoyed with myself for feeling this way. I’m not used to being unsatisfied with my life and I don’t like it at all.

Today, for no apparent reason, I finally put my finger on the problem. ME! I’m the problem. My attitude, my perspective, they are the problem! I totally blame Doug. Lol! It is his fault in an indirect way. Meeting Doug and developing this amazing relationship with him has made me look to the future. I have a very defined place that I want to end up and a very specific person I want to end up with. Because of that, I quit appreciating the process of getting there and just wanted to be there. NOW! Anything other than that future was unacceptable, so my current life was annoying me. See…I’m an idiot!!

Today, in the midst of feeling like I needed a change, I decided to take stock of my life. I analyzed where I am with my job, my home, my kids, my relationship, my finances, my school, etc. You know what I found?? I really like my life! It’s not perfect by any means. My kids are dealing with their own stuff that I, of course, wish I could help with and geography/responsibilities make it difficult to see Doug as often as I’d like. But overall, my life is pretty damn fantastic. It was my attitude that needed to be fixed, not anything in my life.

Now that I’ve identified the problem, I can totally fix this. I will be more conscious of living in the moment. I will more regularly take stock of the important areas of my life to make sure they are on track, but also to appreciate the current state. I will still make sure that the choices I make currently will help me to achieve my ultimate goal of building a life with Doug, but I will also appreciate the present. I’m a very blessed woman and it is unacceptable to overlook that fact because I’m trying to get somewhere else in the future. I’ll get there, just when I’m supposed to.

Whew! Glad I got that figured out. :)