Real, Raw, Imperfect and Crazy

When I write I’m usually pretty vague.
I don’t use names and I don’t list places or any specific details.
I do that on purpose.

This is my blog, my release, my way to share and express the craziness that is my life.
I do that as unselfishly as possible.
If you are really a part of my life you already know those details.
If you aren’t, then the lessons and the experiences I write about are what I want share with you, not the names or places of the ones involved.

I created this blog when I felt alone.
When I felt like I was a failure.
When I felt as though I failed at life.
It was a time when my whole life had changed.
I was literally learning to be me again.
I wrote in my journal every night and the thought occurred to me that maybe that was selfish.
As alone as I felt, there had to be other people out there that felt that way as well.

I’m not naïve enough to think that there aren’t people who read this just because they’re nosey or because they want to tell other people the details of my life that they are no longer privy to.
That was initially the reason for being so vague.
As I began expressing myself and seeing the effect that some of the posts had on other people, my focus on being vague shifted more to protecting the people in my life that either don’t know about the blog or don’t necessarily want their “business” posted.
My thought is this, if you recognize yourself in a post, maybe it is about you; maybe it isn’t though either.
Either way, I hope you get something from them.
I hope you realize what you mean or meant to me, what your actions have caused or that I am sorry for my own.
I hope that the outcome of things in my life cause you to think about the actions you take or don’t take in your own life moving forward.
I want you to realize that you aren’t alone if you’re dealing with your own craziness.

I’m a mom.
I have been married and divorced.
I have fallen in and out of love.
I am a part of the dating game again for the first time in over 13 years.
I have fought with my parents as a rebellious teen and as an adult.
I had my first child before I had my drivers license.
I have had more pregnancies than I have children.
My 3 kids have 2 different fathers.
I have spent a lot of time raising those kids with little to no help.
I lost my first love when I was 16 and now he’s one of my best friends.
I have pushed people away that did nothing but try to love me.
I’ve forgiven people that didn’t deserve it.
I’ve been hurt, traumatized and depressed but I’ve also been happy, loved and blessed beyond belief.
I lost myself somewhere along the way to my 30’s and now I am finding me again.

I have a lot of history with myself.
A lot.
I refuse to believe it’s all for nothing.
This blog is my baby, I love it.
I love sharing my experiences and I have done a lot of healing through it.
I love the emails from women in other parts of the country that have connected the dots in their own crazy life because of a post they read.

I’m nowhere near done.
Nowhere near it but I am closer.
Closer than I was a year ago.
Closer than I was a month ago.
I’m Me and I am finally beginning to be proud of that again.
Real, raw, imperfect and crazy.
That is Starting at 33.




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