Finding myself through the darkness


I have to admit that I've been hiding from you. 

Yep--you, with the face and the eyes and whatnot.

A week ago, I came home from a dreamy, long-anticipated week-long beach vacation with my family.  In the midst of my pre-vacay cleaning/prepping/packing frenzy, I {intended} to schedule three blog posts to release during the week I would be gone.  My vacation to-do lists are usually endless, and of course I did not get to do any blogging before our trip.  Heck--I didn't even bother to shave my legs.

It's okay--I thought.  I can always take a week off and get right back to it. No harm, no foul.

We had such a great time on vacation that we extended it by a day, and then we went to a birthday party the day after we returned.  I was exhausted, and a week away from the blog quickly became two.

{Insert neurotic inner dialogue about why I was suddenly quitting the blog.}

Your girl can be a bit dramatic, no?

I never wanted this blog to turn into some kind of "dear diary"--- an awkwardly juicy overshare.  Yet, I just *can't* forsake the spirit of realness, because there is real, hard, scary, wonderful, messy, beautiful life running through the veins of the hands that write this blog.  I appreciate the quiet, clean beauty and glee reflected in many of the blogs I read.  I know that no one is perfect.  However, I sometimes need to see the dirty, the gritty, and the gruesomely real.  Maybe it's just me--I don't know.  It helps to know that I'm not alone.

It wasn't writer's block.  I've been on autopilot for a while now.  It's easy to get lost in the day to day, and sometimes life blurs into a swirling list of tasks and to-dos.  When life gets crazy (whether you are a mom or not), it's even easier to let yourself {and sanity} get lost in the shuffle.  When I don't nurture myself, I slowly become numb, and then I slip into a deep, nasty funk.  I refer to myself as "Mommyzilla" more times than anyone probably ever should, and the Funk tests the patience of everyone in my house.

After about a week of sleepless nights, which turned into a few emotional days spent raging and drowning in tears, I decided to pull myself together and call for reinforcements a counselor--"Ms. B. " I was scared to talk to someone new, as I really liked the EAP counselor I met with about a year ago.  However, the initial appointment this past weekend went very well.  I totally jived with Ms. B and in no time felt like I was talking to an old friend/mentor.  She totally kicked my ass spoke frankly and basically warned that if I didn't take care of myself {by nurturing my creative side}, that the Funk would never go away.  I thought about every other time I felt sad, depressed,  hopeless, for an extended period of time--and her advice totally made sense. 

I've spent a lot of years ignoring my passion for creating--particularly when it comes to fashion.  I let my fears talk me out of pursuing it, and decided on a more "practical" and stable career. 

This weekend, I learned to trust myself a little bit more.  Maybe, for most, it's a no-brainer that you should follow your heart and pursue your passions.  Some of us are used to listening to every other voice except the one that matters most and should ring the loudest and the clearest--our own. 

This weekend, I was able to lean into that voice and let go of the guilt I've carried all these years over both ignoring my own God-given desires and disappointing those who only wanted what seemed best for me at the time.

Now that I've come out of hiding, there are some things I can't wait to share with you.  Thanks for taking the time to read this, and I hope you'll stay tuned.


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