Tag Archives: friendship

Sometimes It’s…Just What I Needed To Read

22 Aug

Do you see the sidebar over there?  Those nifty little tiles and the list below? They’re not advertisements.  Those are the folks I read.  Every chance I get (which honestly is probably in the bathroom).  The ones I return to when I want to nod my head, laugh until I’m swallowing my own tears, or stretch and grow.

I wanted to make sure you saw them, noticed them.  Clicked through.  Because each of them will say something you need to hear, when you need to hear it.

Earlier this month, it was my friend Story who wrote exactly what I needed (and not necessarily what I wanted) to hear.

I’ve been having a bit of a crisis of self these last few weeks and if I’ve been quiet, it’s because I’ve been spending more time centering on the tangible things I love.  Yarn.  Bach.  Lesson plans and curriculum development.  My family.  Lingering phone conversations with friends.  Slamming my feet into the pavement and sneaking ever-so-close to my 5K goal.

So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to borrow my friend’s words.  I hope you’ll click through to read her whole piece, because it’s the kind of writing the internet needs more of.  It’s the kind of friendship the internet needs more of.


SometimesFrom “For the days when you don’t feel good enough” by Story of Sometimes It’s Hard

… You hear in your head the voice that says “but that doesn’t really mean me.  If they knew what I looked like on the inside, they would see how I’ll never be enough.”

I know.  Me too. Me too.

Doubting yourself isn’t a fault. Feeling disappointed and discouraged isn’t a fault.

Feelings are never a fault.

Be who you are, mama. Be the imperfect, messy, tired, insecure, people pleasing, grouchy, angry, overachieving, ULTIMATELY LOVEABLE person who you really are…

I’ll have more to say about the freedom Story’s words gave me to look inside my discomfort and find myself again…when the words finally decide to make themselves known.  But for now, her words are enough.  I am enough.  Unfinished and messy, I am loved.

Please click through and read the rest of her post.  I actually printed it out, folks.  Seriously.

On Friendship

16 Oct

I have kept in touch with very few friends from my childhood days.  I mean, there are tons of them on Facebook, which roots me to those early elementary day.  It’s wonderful to visit with people who knew me before my days as a mom.  They share my memories of Mrs. Reagan’s 1st grade classroom being decorated in bears, the Jamaican US history teacher from middle school, and of being hollered at by Mr. Logan on the marching field for missing a mark on the 5 yard line. They remind me of who I am deep down inside.

But there are not many folks who I’ve seen in person, exchange birthday mail with, or talk on the phone with from those “olden days.”  I think as you grow up (and move across the country), it gets harder to stay connected to the people who aren’t in your everyday life.  The internet has made it easier to check in, but has also decreased the depth of our interactions.

There are, however a few people who seem to have “made the cut.”  I just can’t quit them.  Whether we talk weekly or only occasionally, when we do, we pick up right where we left off.  They are the people I can be vulnerable with.  Soul sisters.

Melissa and I attended high school together.  Because she was in choir and I was in band, we ran in different social circles.  We actually weren’t that close in those days, but we had classes together and both belonged to the “nerd” crowd, sitting together in our GT AP English class making snarky comments about the long-term substitute.  And if I’m being honest, I always thought she was too cool for me.  Too smart.  My respect for her was built on my admiration for her talents and her apparent ease with friends.   And her writing.  Oh, her writing.

As adults, she and her kids have visited several times.  She flew up from Texas for my oldest’s second birthday.  When DH and I traveled to Las Vegas a few years back, we met up with her husband for a hilarious visit to the wax museum.  Our times together are easy and our friendship is built on a mutual respect and girl crush.  I truly love any time we get to spend together.

And though we trained for different careers and settled down across the country from one another, our lives have become curiously parallel.  We’ve both found ourselves non-religous after extended periods of belief earlier in our lives.  We’re music educators with private studios who understand the excitement inherent in planning and executing the perfect recital.  And all of a sudden, Melissa and I stumbled into roles as health advocates.

Diabetes and depression don’t seem at first glance to be similar health complications, but as it turns out, Melissa’s pancreas and my brain have impacted our lives in similar ways.  She understands deeply how stigma shapes my experience with mental illness and the guilt I battle about how my health affects my children.  My conversations with her about how she manages her diabetes without allowing it to run her life have contributed more than she knows to my ability to make peace with taking medication for my anxiety and depression.  And we’ve both found how online communities can completely change how a patient copes with a life-long diagnosis.  Her work as an advocate in the diabetes community inspires my work within the PPD community and on my blog.

She’s the kind of friend who listens with her whole heart.  She builds me up without letting me get away with anything.  She celebrates my successes and mourns with me when I struggle.  Her friendship drives me to be a better person while at the same time validating my inherent self-worth and value.

I don’t know where I would be in my journey to self-acceptance and PPD recovery without her.

Melissa, I love you.  So very much.  Thank you for being my friend and for all you have brought to my life.

Oh, and Happy Birthday.

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