She At Last

Sharing my story. Maybe you can relate. Speaking out until every woman believes she is enough.

[sheatlast-blog]

Mortality is not something we want to face. Who wants to be a downer? Yet it is a reality that lurks beneath the surface.

Until we are forced to confront it.

My first memory of death involved a daycare teacher. It was the summer between school years. The field trip of the day was lunch at McDonalds after a thunderstorm canceled our planned outing.

I remember returning to the parking lot glowing with ambulatory lights. Thunder roared above as the bus driver struggled to keep a straight face. She didn’t want to alarm the kids, but something was wrong. We went inside and laid on those foldable mats. I caught the sound of my friend next to me sobbing. It was her mother. Struck by lightning.

And all I could remember was a small, seemingly insignificant event from that morning. The teacher approached me and handed me my glasses. I hadn’t even realized they were missing. “Be careful and take good care of these,” she advised softly. I felt so much relief. My mother would’ve been so angry if I lost them! Never did I think that would be my last encounter with this sweet teacher.

We think of death as something that happens at old age. Taking for granted each tomorrow that was never guaranteed. How would we respond if we knew the exact moment life would take away a loved one? How would we live if we knew the number of our days?

Don’t wait for something external to wake you up. You have the power inside of you to make each moment count. You may not be where you want to be right now. But where you are matters. What you’re doing matters. How you love those around you... how you love yourself... shapes the next moments that build up to the future. As much or as little that is left. Make today count.

#mindfulness #gratitude #makeitcount #dontgiveup #maketodaycount #lifeisshort #liveyourbestlife

[sheatlast-blog]

Just Another Tuesday... Worth Celebrating

I’m watching everyone else carry on through their regular Tuesday. I walk around with a grin because of the little secret inside me.

“Never be afraid to start over again. This time you’re not starting from scratch, you’re starting from experience.”

You see, I was married for almost 5 years and my husband never celebrated my birthday.

We definitely celebrated his. I even threw him a surprise party one year. I got his friends and brother to meet us at a bar he liked under the guise that he and I were having dinner alone. I ordered a drink for myself and he chose not to. Then thought it would be funny to eat a spicy pepper and wash it down with my drink. “My bad,” he said while sliding the empty glass back in my direction.

I never felt worthy of celebration.

It was 2 years ago today. I turned 30. My friends, coworkers, and family all reached out to me in some way or another. Not a single word, not even a text from him. I didn’t expect a “happy birthday” but he didn’t so much as say “hello.” That was when I felt like I woke up from a 4 year coma.

I just turned 30. A decade year. Is this how I want to spend the next 10 years of my life? Or is this a birth day for a new beginning?

The next day, I spoke up and said I was unhappy. I wanted to do things differently. He gave me a list of complaints he had about me and our marriage. Then he said, “I want a divorce.”

Well that wasn’t the new beginning I expected. Someone recently introduced a concept to me. If you present someone with a new standard in a relationship and they choose to break up with you, you’re really the one who broke up with him. As much as it hurt, speaking up for myself was a brave thing to do. I have to commend myself for that.

My gift to myself this year is a commitment. I will master the art of celebrating myself. My innermost circle will exclude anyone who doesn’t agree that I’m worthy of celebration.

That starts today.

[sheatlast-blog]

Letter for the dumped (or rejected woman)

I hope I have your full attention. 

Depending on your situation, you could be feeling anywhere from mildly annoyed to downright devastated. I am simultaneously sorry this happened to you and beyond glad for what you are about to discover.

I have been there and it's not fun. But let me tell you something that may not be floating in your brain along with all the ruminations about what went wrong.

Are you listening? 

IT  👏 IS  👏 NOT  👏 ABOUT  👏 YOU.

Please stop measuring yourself after one person has expressed his opinion.

It’s interesting how there is so much advice out there about how a woman should work to catch and keep a man. But very little advice for men on how to treat women. On how to break up with them and leave their dignity intact. To stop leading women on while they make up their minds about what they want. And once decided, jump ship to the next girl like you were just a placeholder.

Through my post-divorce dating process, this is an integral revelation that has carried me through being dumped, ghosted, stood up and rejected. I have one great authors to thank for driving this home:

“The most frequent reasons we get turned down are because we don’t match that person’s specific needs at that time. Or… the narrow definition of who they are looking for.” -Guy Winch, Emotional First Aid

He’s not thinking about you. He is thinking about himself and whatever it is he wants (if he knows what that is). So it’s time for you to start thinking about you. And what you want. Because believe me, it is not someone who doesn’t want you.

If you need more help getting through this, it's okay to ask for help. There is no shame in being hurt, angry and afraid. What if someone hurts me like this again? I'm not going to lie. It's possible.

One thing I hope you take away from this is how to encourage your girlfriend when she goes through this. No one teaches us how to emerge this stuff. Instead, we are offered empty platitudes. “You deserve better” or “You'll meet someone else.” This is what we really need to hear:

You are enough. Just by yourself.

You will survive this.

You will thrive again.

You will love yourself better than he ever could.

But then again, it won't do any good until you can say it to yourself.

Sincerely,

Your sister in overcoming heartbreak and disappointment.

[sheatlast-blog]

I’m a huge fan of vision boards. I make one every year. Even in a post-Pinterest age, there’s nothing like the tactile, static reminder of not just what I want but what I want to feel. How do you want to feel a year from now? #saturdaymotivation #visionboard #dreambigger #selfcare #goals #liveyourbestlife https://www.instagram.com/p/BxVVGwZjiGh/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1gbgt257ijqar

[sheatlast-blog]

I’ve hated this woman. Allowed others to mock her and dismiss her worth while I watched silently. Not going to lie, sometimes I even joined in. I denied her basic needs and neglected her soul. Defined her by her circumstances and disqualified her from her dreams. I didn’t break her. But I didn’t build her up either. It’s time to claim her as myself and love her again. #selflove #selfdiscovery #journeybacktome #youareenough #loveyourself #selfworth #blackmentalhealth https://www.instagram.com/p/BxJWppkBnF_/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=ywjs9cu155rk

[sheatlast-blog]

Dirty Words

I went to the chiropractor for the first time in a while. The new doctor read the notes in my chart and said, “Congratulations on your wedding.”   

Yeah...   

In a little over a month, it will be the one year anniversary of my divorce. I'm realizing that label no longer has the dark hold on me that it once did. I even resented the multiple-choice forms and drop-down boxes. relationship status titles. Why can't I say I'm “single” instead of “divorced”?     

I had a workplace accident a few days after my divorce was final. The emergency room receptionist assisted me with my paperwork as I was being treated. I didn't expect her to ask, “Single, Married, Divorced or Widowed?”   

That was the first time I was asked to say the “D” word out loud. I hesitated to answer. There was a moment of silence in which the lady probably wondered why I didn't know my own relationship status was. Finally, I muttered, “Sorry,” as if I had something to apologize for. “I'm divorced.”   

Before I had the chance to explain, she responded empathetically, “No worries. Me, too.”   

In my mind, the word meant I failed at marriage. And I wasn't worth fighting for. The truth is, I gave love a chance. And it didn't work out. So the word “divorce” has little bearing on my value. If nothing else, it's part of my story that makes me the strong, discerning woman I am. Someone who knows what she wants and is less likely to make the same mistakes.   

Labels only mean what we want it to mean. No matter what anyone else thinks, you are the person you go home to at night. So what you believe is what matters. Don't take for granted the power you have over your own beliefs. Whatever dirty word haunts you, write it down and set it on fire.   

Rewrite your story. Assign a new meaning. You've lived, you loved, but you're not done yet.

[sheatlast-blog]

Wait for It...

I am not a singer, but I love to sing.

When I was a preteen, I hosted concerts in my shower. The acoustics were incredible as my voice rang out my favorite lyrics. I could see the tears on the individual faces in the crowd. Men and women who felt the same pain I have. Girls and boys who remembered falling in love for the first time. One note at a time, I belted each feeling for anyone who would listen.

In high school, I was friends with this band who asked if I would sing Metallica's “Nothing Else Matters” in my deep alto voice. None of the guys could comfortably hit the higher notes in the chorus. I  agreed but through every rehearsal, I asked the guys if they really thought I could sing. Because years before, my mother convinced me that I was terrible. I wasn't convinced that she was wrong.

It occurred to me that I have spent a lot of my life waiting for permission. Visions of my ideal self lurked within me but I found myself stuck. I needed SOMEONE to confirm my dreams weren't totally crazy. So what happened when I asked?

This resulted in different outcomes:

No one confirmed my idea & I assumed the worst

Someone rejected my idea & I gave up

Someone confirmed my idea & it wasn't enough

Wait, what?

Someone confirmed your idea and it wasn't enough? Have you ever done that? You get the answer you wanted, yet you're looking for the next person to confirm it because you still don't believe in yourself. Every guy in that high school band assured me that my voice was great. It still didn't matter. I was waiting for a sign.

“Maybe we don't need the universe to tell us what we really want. Maybe we already know that. Deep down.”

Ted Mosby, How I Met Your Mother (“Something Old”)

The truth is, if you define yourself and firm yourself in that belief, it won't matter what others say. The real danger is in not defining yourself. Because if you don't, the rest of the world will do it for you.

So let go of that little part of you that's waiting for someone to say it's okay. Or better yet... do you need permission?

Here's your permission.

Take the life you want. Be the person you want to be. Make the choice to move. I'm going to be honest with you. You might fail. But that's okay. If you don't quit, you still win.

[sheatlast-blog]

It has been 2 years since my grandfather died. He was always saying I needed to come see him more. I always nodded yet never made the time, not knowing how little time he had left. Growing up, he always made a pot of dirty rice for family dinners because he knew how much I loved it. Rather it went with the rest of the meal theme or not. I never learned his recipe. I took him for granted. Assumed he’d always be around when I needed. Lesson learned. #mindfulness #instamood #mondays #griefandloss #writersofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/BtNA4fghcN-/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=6e7l51ijah89

[sheatlast-blog]

Why 2019 is the year to let that sh*t go

If you haven't heard of Marie Kondo, you've been living under a box. She is so viral that there are memes. But this is not a message about tidying up. 

I read her book, The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up years ago. Her method changed my life. It taught me to manage the emotions beneath my clutter. That's where the real change happened.

One of my biggest pet peeves during my marriage was my [ex-]husband's tenacity to yank plugs out of outlets. This obnoxious habit shattered most of the outlet plates in our house and left them loose.

He hasn't lived with me in over a year and half. All the outlet faces were either loose, broken or both. Every time I would approach one to plug in, I would get pissed off all over again. Growling at the ghost who held me captive by my bitterness.

It's a new year. Not only a new year, but 2019. The number 19 is historically known as the number of “surrender.” It's also a prime number. Only divisible by itself. Have a think about that.

I replaced those faces today.

Now I can get what I need without sabotaging my day with resentment. The question is, why now? What took me so long to appreciate the power I have over my own life to choose better for myself?

Sometimes, it's like we enjoy being miserable. As if indignation empowers us to find our place. But misery doesn't serve us. We don't need a right to complain. I allowed rumination to become my comfort blanket. This only held me back from the freedom I say I want.

In a society that tells us we need more to be happy, credit card debt and excessive stuff consumes us. Why do rates of depression, mental illness, and general discontentment continue to skyrocket?

Same goes for our emotions. But no one talks about those. We hoard emotions because we think they keep us safe. We let them define us. It's time to choose joy and let that shit go.

Will you choose joy today?

Then, let that sh*t go.