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All that Valentines day has to offer…
Happy Valentines day my lovelies. If you, like me, have spent decades navigating an emotionally (and physically) abusive relationship, today can be really. really. really hard. Today is a day where, in full transparency, we (as humans, not women or men) are supposed to remember the sacrifices of St. Valentine (who was tortured and beheaded
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Love and healing – Intergenerational Trauma
I met a woman today… it was like looking into a mirror of sorts. A woman that could easily have been me had circumstances worked out differently for either of us. She was younger than me and had lived a vastly different life, but the similarities are still there. Both of us neurodivergent; both with
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My cup overflows…
Psalms 23:5-6 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. About two weeks ago a guest pastor
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Crimson…
I wore a red dress to church today. Like. SO red. Brilliantly red. Crimson. Fabulous, flirty and fun. It covered me below my knees, to my wrists, fit well, not too tight – nothing that should make any heads turn. But. Wow – people who know me had. comments. Friendly older men whom I know
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On Visions, Nightmares and my own meandering experience…
INTRODUCTION I’ve handwritten this blog post before typing it up. If, by now, you feel you’re coming to know ‘me,’ then you can appreciate the challenge I’ve put before myself by forcing my cramped penmanship to page before, eventually, typing and reviewing this. I’ve reflected on the need to write this for more than a
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Marring your very perfect self
Let’s talk about self harm. I’m not an expert; I’m not a psychologist; I have never offered peer support; and have never harmed myself in any of the ways that are talked about in books or popular culture. So – that’s a lot of words to say I’m absolutely unqualified to write about other people’s
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One stair tread sanded…
My hands are still tingling from holding the palm sander for an hour and half, in spite of doing the dishes and watering the garden since taking a break from my project. I had to stop, look, sit back and say to myself, “that’s enough for one day…” I bought myself a little sander last