Here I am again

I've done a lot of living since I wrote last. There has been stress and tears, good and bad. Lots and lots of change. Death and birth (literal and figurative). Lots of adjustment. I was so crippled by anxiety and obligations that I never felt relaxed (or awake) enough to spill words onto a page for the last almost 2 years.

It's kind of shocking looking back on this last stretch of time and seeing the journey. My daughter is almost 7. I've gotten 2 promotions and (finally) 2 master's degrees. I've fallen deeper in love and gotten engaged and married to the love of my life. Our wedding was my dream wedding, complete with lots of family and all of my very best friends. I've met some big professional goals. My husband (!) and I went on an amazing Hawaiian honeymoon and made beautiful memories.

I know where I'm going, and I certainly know where I've been. The times I felt hopeless and overwhelmed seem so temporary in the rear view. The times I yearned for one single friend where I lived are just a memory. I feel like I have people now.

I also have time. A seemingly endless stretch of time. It's the greatest luxury of all. I'm done with school! I don't spend my work days dreading the million things I have to do in the evenings now. I don't spend my evenings agonizing over readings and exams and lectures and papers and notes. Instead, I stress over how I can possibly fill all the time.

So this morning, the first morning I've really been able to fully relax since the whirlwind of the last month (graduation, wedding, honeymoon, new job, etc.), I took myself on a coffee date and did some much-needed thinking. Here's what I thought:

"Self, what are we going to do all summer? What do we want life to be now that life can just be? What do we want to look back and see a whole lot more of the next time we're sitting in this seat?"

And here are all the things I came up with:
• Playing with Kimmy as much as she wants
• Reading: anything and everything
• Music: anything and everything
• Painting: watercolor journal, canvas
• Gardening: grab the weeds and get dirty
• Hiking on weekends
• Walking in the evenings
• One purposeful workout every week (can include gardening or hiking)
• Writing: journal, blog, poetry, letters to Kimmy
• Mindfulness: coffee/tea, one thought at a time
• Church: just go and be open
• Cooking: plan ahead, try new recipes
• Traveling as much as possible

I have lived on lists over the past few years: lists of times and dates and obligations in my planner, lists of tasks on post-it notes, lists of memory jogs and random groceries we're out of on my notes app. Lists have been the glue holding my brain together. So it's quite fitting that I make a list of what I envision for my life.

It's going to be a transition, maybe the biggest one ever. Less phone time and deleting some apps that have helped me suppress swirling thoughts and be mindless when I needed to. More purposeful time spent doing real things and tackling thoughts head-on. Time spent learning how to play with my daughter now that I really can spend time doing a lot of that. Maybe I'll even pull out my stack of cookbooks and post-it flags and go to town marking recipes to try.

All I can say for sure is that I'm going to give it my best shot and go after my best life. I've made it to a place where I can breathe, and I plan to breathe in every experience I can track down.

More later,
Kelsey Ann Pierce Gregory (!!!)

Brave

Back in July when Brice and I went to Colorado, his mom was telling me/us about how someone once asked her to describe each of her children with one word. I thought that was so cool, the idea of boiling down your child's entire massive personality and being into just one word. I've been continually trying to think of the word I would use for Kimmy ever since then, and it has truly taken me this long to decide what that word is.

Brave.

Kimmy is brave.

In the days and weeks after little miss was born, I spent countless hours going over all the dreams I have for her in her life. How I want her to feel about herself, how I want her to be able to look back on her childhood, how I will love her and support her no matter who she turns out to become. One thing I wished deeply for her was to have a stress-free and care-free childhood.

Unfortunately, fate would have it that she didn't fully get either of those things to the extent that I hoped. Life in a single-parent home whisked her away to a reality of having to sense adult stress far too young. I remember shortly after we moved into our own house when she was 2 that feeling of insecurity she woke up with each morning and went to bed with each night. "Mommy, will we live here now, just Kimmy and Mommy?" "Who will come watch me tomorrow?" "Where will I be tomorrow?" "Do I have to go to my daddy's this weekend?" "Will you always come get me after I visit?" The fear of the unknown unsettled her. She didn't understand the back and forth between households for visitation.

But do you know what she did? Instead of losing her footing, instead of turning into a tantrum-throwing, behavioral and emotional hot mess, she took every piece of new information and just rolled with it. "Okay, I like Kimmy and Mommy's house." "I'm excited to see Brooke tomorrow." "I'll miss you, Momma. Can't wait til you pick me up."

She is like that with everything. Give her the answers to her questions of the unknown, and she intrinsically equips herself for the ride ahead.

When we're at a restaurant, and I challenge her to order for herself when the server asks me what she wants to eat, she rehearses with me and does it. That huge grin on her face afterward is amazing to see!

When she marched into kindergarten on the first day with not a tear in her eye, despite her nervous tummy that morning, and waved bye to me: brave as can be.

When a pipe burst in our townhouse this winter, and we had to pack a bag and stay in an apartment unit across the street for a week, not a complaint was uttered. She thought of it as a fun adventure.

When we go somewhere new or try something new, she stomps trepidation with curiosity.

Flexible and resilient are reactions, and she executes those reactions flawlessly. But brave is who she is. She doesn't choose to be that way; she just is.

Kimmy on superhero day at school

I love my brave little adventurer. It's still eerie to me that I no longer have a toddler, but I'm so excited to watch her grow into big-girl Kimmy Jarae.

-Kels

P.S. She loves school, and it makes me so happy. I am a big ol' worrywart about these things, you know.

P.P.S. Thanks for the inspiration, Vicki!

I'm not afraid of your life

This is sappy, but whatever. Move your little eyes someplace else if you don't wanna read it. Brice and I are in love, and I don't care who knows it.

I knew he was perfect for me almost instantly. We were just magnetized. People tell you you'll just know, and I guess they're right. I never believed in soulmates, true love, my knight in shining armor, any of it. But then there he was, and he was all of it in one very real, very amazing person. Finally, someone who can keep up with me and can handle my zest for life!

He continues to do and say wonderful things that both reaffirm my initial impression of him and deepen my admiration, just totally without even trying. He is 100% himself, and I appreciate 100% of who that is. I told him he makes me want to write, and here I am writing.

And so you know, I have his permission; I'm not goin' rogue here. Brice is a super private and modest person, and he would never brag about himself. I want all my friends and family to see just how great he is, though, especially since he hasn't gotten to meet any of y'all yet, so I'm gonna give you a little feel for how he treats me.

I can talk to him about anything, and he doesn't shy away from the tough stuff. Instead, he says things like this:

"I'm not afraid of your life, Kelsey. I will be there through every stressful thing, and we'll go through all of it together."

Those are swooning words. That hit me right in the feels. This is by far the most meaningful, powerful thing any person on this earth has ever said to me. "I accept all your baggage and chaos and your insane amount of stress," basically. I have a pretty strong fear of abandonment when the going gets rough,  I guess, because my life is full of little fires that I'm constantly putting out, and I'm often completely frazzled and overwhelmed.

But even more powerful than hearing those words is experiencing how it feels when Brice stands behind them and proves that he's there, steady and strong, willing to listen, willing to help me through it (even when I don't even know how to ask for or accept help). I don't know how he does it, but he doesn't even falter. I mean, have y'all met me? I talk a lot. But there he is...even through all the screenshots I send him of annoying conversations with toxic people and huge essay-length texts venting about everything on my mind. I send a lot of texts (our count is 1,615 of them since August 4th when this month's phone bill started over). Nope, doesn't even phase him.

He just accepts me and all that I come with.

I've been missing him big time since Colorado last month, and he and Kimmy both talk to me about how they're itching to meet each other. So I decided Kimmy and I needed a little weekend getaway to San Antonio to make this happen!

"Kimmy and I are coming to visit you in Texas later this month, Brice!"
"I'm so excited! Does she need a car seat while she's here?"

Yep, his first thought once we locked down plans was my daughter's safety...whether Kimmy would be safe in the car while we're there and what he could do to make sure she was.

He also bought her a birthday present. He also talks to her on video chat and texts emojis with her and sends her silly snaps and includes her in all our conversations about what the future looks like. He also makes me laugh and calms me down and calls me beautiful and talks nerdy to me (hah!). He is a good, good man. He makes my heart happy. I am so thankful I found him.

To be continued.

#briceandkelsey
<3

Listen

Yesterday was my Kimmy Jarae's 5th birthday. She's 5! I really can't believe it. I am shocked that my little toddler got replaced by a big kid.

She had school yesterday (her 3rd day of kindergarten), but I still tried to make her day as special as I could. She got to wear her new My Little Pony (current obsession) shirt with Rainbow Dash on it. I gave her Starbursts for breakfast (well, pre-breakfast, since we're cashing in on the $1.10 breakfasts at school). I sent cupcakes and flowers and a balloon to her school (judge me all you want, but my child is not spoiled by material things. So I went all out for her birthday). After school, we ran to the grocery store and then came home to make dinner together.

We made gumbo. Kimmy's been begging to try gumbo for months. She loves okra, and when she learned that it's a key ingredient in Tiana's dish in Princess and the Frog, she latched onto the idea of making it for dinner sometime. We got tons of fresh veggies from the farmers' market this weekend, including the okra mother lode, so we were all set for gumbo cookin'. I thought her birthday was the perfect occasion!

I love being a mom, and I know I'm a pretty good one. One thing I seriously struggle with, though, is active listening. I'm so exhausted in the evenings and overwhelmed with managing a routine, cleaning, getting everything ready for the next day, doing homework, keeping some semblance of a social life, and getting enough sleep, that I generally do a terrible job listening, being patient, sticking to one task at a time, and sitting down to spend relaxing time with my Kimmy-girl instead of bouncing around the house like a pinball. I catch myself saying, "Mmhmm. Oh, that's great," to many of the things Kimmy tells me (or tries to tell me) in the evenings. I have horrible mommy guilt over it, and I resent single parenting for making it my reality. I'm the only person Kimmy has to talk to, and I ruin it a lot by being so lacking in energy. I'm just spread so thin that there is no way I can hit the evening portion of our day with a full battery. I get really down about it.

So last night I put my phone down and spent some real quality time with my baby. We (mostly she) talked, and I listened. She took me by surprise several times throughout the evening! I was so astonished at how much she knows and has been learning lately. Even the way she forms sentences now...it's like she's a grown-up trapped in that little girly-girl frame.

While we were prepping our veggies for cooking, I was dicing an onion. When I moved on to the garlic, Kimmy said, "I already know what that knife move is called, Mommy." I said, "Oh, you do? What?" "Mincing." I literally had no clue she knew that! She said she learned it from Princess and the Frog when Prince Naveen is mincing mushrooms. And then she helped me mince.

Next, she started munching on a green pepper--a favorite snack of my brother's when he was Kimmy's age. She said she loved it, and I told her she was awesome and brave to always try new foods.

The evening was interspersed with random friends and family members calling and sending messages to wish her a happy birthday like Nana and Papple and Nate and Brice, but we still got to talk to each other a lot. Probably my favorite part was when we were sitting at the bar together just digging into our bowls of gumbo when she finally opened up to me about how school was going. I've barely heard a peep about school since the first day, and it had me kind of worried.

We had a nice heart to heart about her class and teacher, her new best friend Averi who sits at the table next to her, how it takes time to learn new names and make new friends, how her school is pretty big compared to my grade school and how I think she's showing a lot of courage by not being intimidated by being around so many people. She told me her favorite part of school is that she's going to learn to read, and her least favorite part is not having nap time. (Cue the mommy guilt for her having to go to Latch-Key before and after school while her momma goes to work, which makes for 10-hour days.)

We finished up our evening with blackberries sprinkled with sugar, and I got my 5-year-old sidekick into bed only about a half hour late.

Kimmy's final thought before bed? "I have a question. What if we could swim in clouds?" She might be growing up quickly, but that mind of hers is still wild, innocent, free, and full of dreams. I love her so.

Parenting never feels better than when you're connected with your kiddo without distractions. My favorite ways to get there with Kimmy are camping, vacationing, and cooking. I need to make a point of it more often! But what would parenting be without lots of mini failures, right? I need grace. Lots and lots of grace. We've made it to age 5 with smiles on our faces, and we can make it much farther!

I love you, Kimmy Jarae-jee Jay-jee Jarae.

-Momma

Fall for the guy

Fall for the guy who will do anything to get to you, who never forgets to text you back, who is genuinely excited to be in your life.

Fall for the guy who never lets a day go by without telling you you're beautiful.

Fall for the guy who listens without judgment.

Fall for the guy whose hugs feel like sunshine and rainbows.

Fall for the guy who loves his family and can't wait to meet yours too (including your daughter).

Fall for the guy who can stop time when he kisses you, who makes everything slow and easy when he's around.

Fall for the guy who acknowledges, loves, and respects your independence, but who speaks directly to your love language and steps right in and helps with the overwhelming stuff anyway (like cleaning your biggest pet peeve: gritty kitchen floors) without ever expecting anything in return.

Fall for the guy who calls you, even though he kind of hates talking on the phone.

Fall for the guy who never once makes you feel ashamed when you write him an entire novel of all the things that are on your mind.

Fall for the guy who will put all his fears in the back of his mind to chase happiness with you.

Fall for the guy who drives your accidentally drunk self home, hands you a glass of water, feeds you an amazing meal he's cooked, listens to your random conversation topics, tucks you in, and then kisses your forehead right before you fall asleep.

Fall for the guy who responds to, "Want to go on an adventure?" with "I'll go anywhere with you."

Fall for the guy who holds your hand every chance he gets.

Fall for the guy who looks at all your flaws dead-on and still chooses you anyway.

Fall for the guy who makes you laugh, who makes you try new things, who makes you settle more deeply into yourself with confidence.

Fall for the guy who's not embarrassed to show you off to his friends and who says sweet things no matter who's within earshot.

Fall for the guy who cooks and brings you a plate of dinner and sits with you as you spaz out over an accounting quiz for a few hours of your life.

Fall for the guy whose actions and words consistently tell you exactly where you stand.

Fall for the guy who is calm and steady in all the ways you are not, yet accepts you just the way you are.

When you find him, he'll be exactly what you deserve, exactly what you've waited for, exactly what people have pleaded with you to know has always existed in the vastness of humankind. He'll leave you standing in breathless wonderment trying to figure out how you ever thought anyone else measured up.

WAIT FOR HIM, LADIES. He is real, and he is somewhere looking for you too.

BG + KP <3

Do things that scare you (single momma travel edition)

One of my proudest accomplishments to date was when I took my daughter to Disney World for her 3rd birthday, just me and her. Gobs of people tried to talk me out of it, friends and family alike. But it was something I felt like I just needed to do for us, and I'm so glad I listened to myself. I learned many, many things on that trip, the biggest of which was that I absolutely can handle taking my daughter somewhere all on my own, all while managing uncertainties and having a whole lot of fun! It was the pivotal experience of my single parenting journey, and it made me realize that I am more than capable.

That was in August 2015. Since then, I've made it a goal of mine to jump at any opportunity to travel with Kimmy. We've been camping together, to King's Island, to zoos, to Disney on Ice, to state parks, to Amish Country, and we just got back from Chicago last night. It's extremely scary and intimidating to take her on trips by myself, but I know the rewards are well worth the stress of overcoming that fear.

Are these trips easy? No. They strain our budget, they push my stress through the roof, and I have to consciously quell my endlessly nagging anxieties the whole time we're on a vacation. Like, seriously the entire time. A lot of little things make me a nervous wreck when I'm responsible for another human being: public transportation, crossing the street, airport security lines, whether or not my kid has peed and pooped recently, whether she's well hydrated, how much money is in my checking account at this exact moment in time, how much cash I have, where the nearest ATM is, whether there will be errors in any of our reservations, whether I have forgotten anything I need, etc., etc., etc. Last year on vacation, we were hit by an intoxicated driver and landed with a completely totaled car before we even made it to our hotel! So, yeah. Not easy at all. There is always some unforeseen circumstance a blink of the eye away that can throw a wrench in the most carefully laid plans.

Are these types of trips fun, though? Heckkkk yes! It feels SO GOOD to get one-on-one quality time with my mini me. It's the perfect opportunity for both of us to get an attitude adjustment, to reset our behaviors, to break out of our monotonous routines, to make new memories, to just get out of the house, and to talk about things heart to heart. I love our girl time, and I will chase these small getaways with her any chance I get.

This past vacation to Chicago, in particular, really helped us get grounded. We had a long year, month, and week leading up to this trip with tons of changes and long, tired days. Kimmy just finished up her school year on Friday, so we headed to the airport right after that. I was stressed about having just finished the end of my grad school term and probably not earning a letter grade that reflects the depth of what I actually took away from the class knowledge-wise. We just really needed to get away, and so we did!

I've found that the best trick to traveling with my daughter is not planning everything out. Of course, I made our lodging reservation and made sure all our transportation was planned out. But other than that, I only had 2 things planned going into this trip: a day at the zoo on day one and tickets to see Aladdin the musical on day two. That left us with a wide open schedule to be sure to have plenty of time to enjoy each other, instead of having all our time blocked off to do activity after activity for the sake of having a full itinerary. This also left room for Kimmy to make choices and feel like she had a say in what we were doing, not just be forced to do whatever I had planned for us. It really helped us be a team!

Also, we were mega broke this trip. But you know what? We had an absolute blast! Did we come home with a suitcase full of souvenirs? Nope. I actually can't think of a single souvenir we bought, unless you count the $1 balloon art flower we got on a street corner or our big bags of Garrett's popcorn. But we took lots of pictures and made a whole lot of memories! A tour guide during a trip to Europe in college once said, "Take pictures with your eyes and with your heart--those will be your best memories," and it's so true. I mean, I took pictures with my phone, too, but they just serve to reinforce all the things I saw and experienced. I don't look back and think, "Oh, I really love this one thing I bought in Europe." Instead, I think, "That Nuremberg Easter market was one of the neatest experiences of my life," "or that sunset view of Paris from the steps of Sacre-Coeur Basilica changed my life completely" or "the way my sisters in Cambodia hugged me still makes me feel warm inside." I value experiences so much more deeply than things, and I think Kimmy would tell you the same. She didn't even ask for anything in Chicago, except to show me some things she liked in the Disney Store that she would love it if she got for her birthday in August. She asked for a boat ride and a fresh-squeezed lemonade and to go splash in the water fountains in Millennium Park.

We walked about 28 miles over the long weekend, and little miss didn't complain a single time about being tired or hot. Not one time. How strong and grown up is she?! I was so proud! We ate free hostel breakfast and peanut butter sandwiches and hot dogs and cotton candy and ice cream and only one sit-down restaurant meal (deep dish pizza). We painted our nails and watched cartoons. We window shopped and played in the parks and got free Minions tattoos. We chased geese, had a picnic, rode a boat taxi, and walked down along the river and all along the Lakefront Trail. We gawked at the enormity of Buckingham Fountain--twice. We met friends at the zoo and made new friends at the Old Navy coloring table and at Millennium Park. We saw an amazing musical and had vending machine snacks for dinner afterwards because it was a Sunday, and I forgot everything would close early (oops). We went in shops just to ride the escalators. We got caught in a summer downpour and got so soaked we had to go in Walgreens to buy paper towels and dry ourselves off. We went to a museum we could get into for free with our WonderLab membership here. We talked and danced and soaked it all in. We even made up our own vacation theme song! It was an amazing trip.

So, anyway, my point is this...

ALL PARENTS EVERYWHERE (especially my fellow beautiful and amazing superhero single mommas who might lack the confidence to take the plunge or who might deal with an overabundance of unsolicited advice to the contrary from people who don't have a clue what it's like to walk in our shoes): GRAB YOUR KID(S) AND GO. Go anywhere. For a few days, for a week, overnight, doesn't matter. Pick a place and get in your car, on a plane, train, or boat. Just go. Go an hour away and stay in a hotel and watch TV, order pizza, and swim in the hotel pool. Get in the car and drive until you get to somewhere that seems like a good destination. Go a few towns over and spend the day there. Eat McDonald's or sandwiches or granola bars and apples for every meal if that's all you can afford. Stay on a friend's couch or an Airbnb or hostel. Go camping and sleep in a tent. Sleep in a rest area in your car for all I care--just go! Whatever you're scared of is minuscule in comparison to the lessons and memories you can find when you travel.

Lastly: if your fear is a person whispering in your ear that it's unsafe and foolish to travel with your child(ren), don't listen to them. Listen to you. Use your head and your street smarts. You know how to keep your kid safe. You know how your kid will react to any number of situations, which will help you choose where to take them. You know what you're capable of--and even if you don't, go somewhere anyway because you'll certainly find out. You'll never thrive under the dark cloud of pessimistic and paranoid advice. Go chase your sunshine!

More later.
-Kels

Good and bad

After a very introspective weekend, I have one conclusion: life is such a crazy--at times insane--mix of good and bad.

Opposite emotions exist in parallel, or they're intertwined. There's sadness, joy, loneliness, emptiness, happiness, and humor all at once. You can't have just one. You can't be all patched up and put together all the time either.

A house you love falls through: fear of the unknown.
A new opportunity presents itself: hopefulness.
Your kid acts up with a behavior you thought was old news: anger.
The love of your life puts you in the friendzone: loneliness.
You laugh at the most hilarious thing you've ever seen: joy.
You read something that breaks your heart: sadness.
You disappoint someone: self-guilt.
You kiss your daughter and feel your heart beat just a little harder: love.
You bask in the perfect spring weather and just smile: bliss.

All of these feelings are varying degrees of temporary. Some brief and some that come in waves for years.

Life is weird. All we can do is push through and support the people in our circles and search for happiness and hope to stay afloat. It's about the journey, right?

Goodnight, odd world.
-Kels

Kim

Kimberly Margaret Pierce

July 6, 1987 - March 3, 2004

I love you. I miss you.

Middle child syndrome

I grew up with a pretty constant feeling of being misunderstood.

I was a middle child sandwiched in between a warrior-princess, mega-independent, born-leader older sister and an attention-getting, rule-changing, volatile-tempered younger brother.

There I was, just hanging out in the middle all alone, hoping to be noticed for my wild creativity, intense empathy, strong compassion, and various random talents. "Notice me! Let me be the center of attention just once!"

Don't get me wrong, I knew my parents loved me and stuff. But, your shiny edges just don't shine as brightly when you have a sibling on each side dulling that glow. For Kim and Kevin, each with a side free to blow in the breeze and shine in the sun, it was easy having a "place" in the world--at least from my comparative perspective.

My childhood years that I spent trying to find my place and figure out who I was as a sandwich filling (hah!) shaped me into an extreme introvert. I was always looking inward to find my footing. Birth order definitely affected me, and middle child syndrome is oh-so real--I even wrote a pretty compelling term paper on it once for a developmental psych class.

Then when Kim died, I had no place in the order. I was suddenly in the forefront, but I didn't want any of that attention. Like, at all. I'm still that way. "Don't notice me. Let me not be the center of attention--I don't like it. Let me hang back and people-watch and offer my input when the time is right for me."

It's weird, and I'm still adjusting. I also occasionally encounter that feeling of being misunderstood, and it unsettles me. It's a super "off" feeling. But, I guess it's not very realistic to expect to be understood all the time.

Anyway, getting to the point, I have one particular friend who sees me. Like, really sees me. We only met last month, so every time I rediscover that I'm totally understood and safe, I re-live the "wow" of that feeling. It's pretty amazing. There are only a handful of friends in the entirety of my life with whom I've fallen into such tight lockstep like this. I'm enjoying it. It's nice making new friends, and it's even nicer feeling like there's not a thing about me I have to censor or put in a huge amount of effort to explain.

La vie est très bonne.

 More later,

-Kels

Things I wish I had known (part 3 of more to come eventually)

I wish I had known that that piece of advice older females give younger females is so true: "Your confidence is the most important thing you'll ever have. When you're sure of yourself, it shows. That's when people will start to see you for your real worth. People are magnetized by a woman's confidence."

Like, it's really actually true. Y'all know I hate me some advice. But this is one piece of advice I can get on board with. I've been really true to me and confident in my decisions these past few years.

Annnnd....I've been dating.

There, I said it.

I've been dating. I have put myself out into the world. Was this a smart decision? TBD. The dating pool and the dating game are entirely different than when I was last dating (circa 2008). I mean, vastly different. The whole online component and all.

Also, I don't really think I want a relationship, so I'm not sure what the end goal is here. But, it's been really cool to be open to talking to different types of guys and testing the waters and just getting to know some dudes. I've met some really cool people! (And some duds, but that's par for the course, I suppose.) And I've met some guys non-confident me would've thought she didn't have a chance with, but that's not really the case. So, I'm enjoying myself.

It feels good to know who I am and what I'm about. When a guy and I differ on something--an opinion, a preference, a value--I don't get all bent out of shape and wonder if I can measure up. I'm sitting there feeling good about myself and wondering if he can measure up to what I want/need. Confidence makes all the difference.

Worst case scenario: I make some good local friends.
Best case scenario: I'm not really sure.

But, whatever. Girls: be you. Don't be a social chameleon. Just be you.

-Kels

New year, same me

2016 was the best year yet in many ways. It's the first year of my adult life that I spent my time being wholly and completely me--knowing who I am and what I'm about without question.

I squeezed in a huge amount of traveling for a woman on a tight budget: DC, Northern Indiana Amish country, Asheville, Gatlinburg, Chicago. I had a blast with my daughter at every turn. I talked to lots of boyz and got a fresh feel for what I like/want. I hiked and camped. I cooked. I soaked in tons of new music. I saw a couple bands live. I tried new things.

The only setback I had was my huge car accident in June when Kimmy and I both could have died if one single thing had been different. But I'm so glad it's behind us, and my hands are clean. I recently found out my car insurance company is suing the dude who hit us. Karma and all.

But, anywho.

Life is rrrrreal good.

--

2017 is off to an excellent start.

We're not even one week in, and already I've heard live music, hiked, been to a whole lot of new places, had lots of family time, and done a few adventurous and fun things for me that have comforted my psyche.

I've never been big on new year's resolutions. I feel like if I'm going to make a goal, I need to want to do it enough to make it my focus anytime of year, not just at the start of a new year. Plus, I generally don't feel very refreshed and reset at a new year, given that it's in the dead of winter and all. (I hate winter.)

So, this isn't really a resolution, but a declaration: I'm gonna keep on being me this year. It's working for me.

Peace,
-Kels

Discipline

I grew up in a home with set behavioral expectations and fairly consistent punishments for offenses. I spent many post-smart-mouth-remark bedroom quarantines brooding and vowing to discipline my future children completely differently. Never would I have a child who would sit in her room staring daggers into her parents' souls. Not my child. No, I'd be my child's best friend and never turn her against me!

As fate would have it, that wasn't completely unrealistic. Brooding preteen removed from this equation, of course--I'm not still holding onto any resentful thoughts toward my parents because I turned out pretty okay and have a strong sense of right vs. wrong. I have still retained my strong will, and I still speak my mind, though I kinda-sorta have a grasp on when to bite my tongue and when to speak up a little better than I had as a kid. (Hey, I said "kinda-sorta," right? I didn't claim to be an expert, HAHA!)

I've found myself in the role of a single parent, and I serve as both my daughter's sense of comfort and her reinforced conscience/disciplinarian. It's important for me to instill in my daughter a sense of right and wrong. But, it's even more important for me to be her friend through it all. I know a lot of people disagree with this stance, as is evident in the endless discipline advice I get from friends, family, and acquaintances alike.

(Seriously, guys, stop giving me advice. About anything. About everything. Especially about my child. I hate it. I would ask if I wanted it. I don't. Frankly, I'm sick of repeating myself on this front, too. Just stahp.)

Truth is, I know what I'm doing. My daughter doesn't have another parent to run to for comfort. Siblings either. She has me. I have to think very carefully about discipline, or I risk damaging the most secure human relationship my daughter has on this earth. Our trust and teamwork means absolutely everything and is our core mother-daughter value. I intend to never jeopardize that bond.

Someone once suggested to me that I fix my daughter's slower-than-mine pace and sense of time when we're getting ready for school and work in the mornings by locking her outside of the house in anything she could manage to clothe herself in in 5 minutes.

Let me be very clear: NEVER would I subject my child to such brutal humiliation. Discipline by humiliation is completely out of the question. I would absolutely risk every bit of trust she has in me to take care of her and help her through our differences if I made her feel humiliated, especially by something internalized and natural over which she has very little control.

Discipline by physical harm is completely out of the question, too. Discipline by silent treatment: no. Discipline by slave-style chores: no. Discipline by removing basic needs like a meal, clean and prepped clothing in the morning, etc...never ever.

I have never once laid a hand on my child, and I never intend to. I have never once purposely added the burden of shame to my child, and I don't plan to start now.

Discipline by words is plenty. Discipline by very small punishment (timeout or a prompted sincere apology) is enough.

As an only child (yes, she has a half-sister, but she lives as an only child in actual lifestyle articulation), and especially as the only child in a single-parent home, my daughter is critically sensitive to how I perceive her. If there is tension in our relationship, we both feel it. If Kimmy has even the slightest sense that I am disappointed in her actions, she is devastated. Absolutely shattered and torn to pieces.

This morning when I dropped her off at school, I learned that Kimmy had had 2 timeouts at school yesterday for sassy behavior to her teacher upon being corrected on something. While I deeply appreciate her strong will and ability to speak up for herself, there is a time and a place for such behavior, and it is not at school to her preschool teachers, whose judgment I trust. (When she's older and has a difference of opinion or fact with a teacher, then we'll talk. I remember the first time I corrected a teacher and was absolutely right in so doing...in 2nd grade.)

As her teacher was telling me what happened, Kimmy's entire posture changed. Her shoulders sunk. She turned her face from me. Huge crocodile tears welled up in her eyes instantly, and she bit her bottom lip. She was sobbing 15 seconds in. When I hugged her as I was leaving, she didn't want to let go. The thought of me being disappointed in her is just about too much for her to bear, and this is a consistent observation. That feeling is so shameful to her that just by her knowing I could potentially think badly of her, she wouldn't dare repeat a bad behavior.

We discuss bad behavior. We apologize when we get snippy or loud-mouthed with each other. I apologize constantly for getting impatient and raising my voice. I hold my daughter's hand. I tell her I love her. I hug her. I kiss her goodnight and good morning and goodbye for the day. I give leniency when leniency is due and can deepen our trust in each other. We forgive. We forget. We grow together.

This works for us. This process isn't broken. There is nothing to be fixed. Kimmy behaves exceptionally well for a child her age. She has a good heart and tries her hardest to make right decisions all the time. Best of all, she trusts me. She knows she can always come to her mother for any reason under the sun. She knows that I value her honesty. Some kids turn into snakes at age 4, but my daughter rarely even utters a lie. I intrinsically know that I am raising my daughter right. I'm not looking for a parenting overhaul.

So, please, leave me alone to discipline my child in the way that's best for her, for us, for our household, for our relationship. It's not your business. If there comes a time when I need to adjust, trust that I'm a grown-ass woman and can manage to do so just fine all on my own.

Kimmy and Mommy's house is peaceful, healthy, and happy. Is yours? #checkyourself

Peace,
-Kels

People

Have you ever uttered the phrase, "I hate people"? I have. And it's actually not true. Yes, I hate certain traits and tendencies that certain people have.

But I love people.

I love them. I want to base my whole career on people (human resources). I love how people are all different. I love how people make me laugh. I love how everyone brings something unique to the table. I love how people all have their own lens through which they see the world. I love how I have something to learn from every person on this earth.

Lately I'm obsessed with people who make me feel alive...people who set my spirit alight and make me see, think, and feel things I wouldn't all on my own.

Last night I got a text from someone I love hearing from, but someone whose work schedule and unique job keeps him off the grid for weeks at a time. This is someone I went to college with and worked with and was friends with, but was not super close with because we were pretty different. Over the past 5 years, we've each been on our own journeys of self-discovery and growing up, and our paths have somehow crossed again, this time with much more in common and a really cool blossoming friendship.

This is someone who gives me that alive feeling. (Yes, he's male; no, the point of this is not about a crush. This is about a person-to-person connection with someone who has a fervor for life. Lots of people make me feel alive like this, male or female, crush or no crush.) When this side of my mind/heart are ignited by a person, I find myself wanting to discuss every subject under the sun, travel more, listen to all the music ever made, write until my hand cramps and tempts me to switch hands, and never stop trying/learning new things.

There's a lot to be said for being passionate in this life. I think Roald Dahl worded it best:

Give me fiery white hot over lukewarm any day. People who can get on that level with me are my favorite people in all the land. People who aren't afraid to live, to do, to feel. I want as many passionate people in my circle as I can get.

Full steam ahead!

-Kels

The great outdoors

Being wanderlust and all, I fantasize about being outside and on the go constantly. I spend 40 hours/week strapped to a desk, and though I love (adore, actually) my job and the people I work with, I still find myself dreaming of being out in the world as much as possible. It fuels me. I work to travel. Travel fuels my motivation at work. As soon as I get back from one adventure, I brainstorm my next. It's a cycle that I hope I never outgrow.

My entire childhood, we camped and hiked and played in creeks and roughed it in the great outdoors. Those were our vacations. (We even camped at Disney World!) It was overkill for me because I felt like I didn't have a say in those decisions--I was outdoorsy by birth and not by my own choice. I compensated by shunning the outdoors for many years of my young adult life and even tried to convince myself that I was a city girl.

These past few years that I've spent in deep introspection, though? I had an epiphany and found a gaping hole in my life: outside, fresh air, mountains, patches of earth few humans have ever trod, nature sounds, endless skies of stars and clouds. I would rather be away and separate from than included in any day of the week, any week of the year. I'm a mountain momma through and through. It's in my blood, deep down in the very cells of my being.

There is just something so thrilling and cathartic about conquering a trail, a mountain. For me, it's like I'm climbing over all the gunk in my brain to a place of serene mental clarity. Like when I'm so small--this teeny tiny cog in the great wheel of the planet--that I somehow become immense in power and assuredness. Flashy and grandiose? Nah, keep it. I am a speck out there in nature, but I am sure and steady and totally content.

The blisters, the screaming muscle groups, the sweat, the cool/sharp/humid/dry/hot air hitting my lungs, the soreness, the dull drone of too much uphill/downhill trekking all at once, the fact that I'm fairly certain I'm going to lose my left big toenail--none of it matters because what I'm chasing on that trail is so intrinsically worthwhile that it supercedes all the setbacks.

This summer I hiked to Rainbow Falls in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It's a relatively simple hike, though physically taxing. 2.7 miles up a mountain; 2.7 miles back down--about 3.5 hours in all. I hiked it all by myself at a time when I was desperate for some time to soul-search. My daughter was visiting her family in Pennsylvania, and I was all alone with a mess of thoughts to contend with and make sense of. I spent a handful of hours on the trail, but I took home heaping buckets of insight into myself, my life, where I want to go, what I want to see, the person I want to be. I stopped to take a swig of water from my Nalgene at one of several creek crossings, and I was so overwhelmed by my clarity against the sounds of birds in the trees, rustling leaves, and the trickling creek that I burst into tears. It's a feeling I can't even begin to describe. It may even sound stupid to anyone reading this, but I don't even care. It was so meaningful to me that I've thought of this hike--this exact moment--every time I've felt down in the dumps since then.

4 days ago, my dad and I hiked Rainbow Falls all the way up to the top of the mountain (Mt. LeConte), where we saw the sights from LeConte Lodge. Though it had only been 3 months since I was last on the trail, I felt like I was an entirely new person. The same path that was covered in fallen pinky-white rhododendron blooms just months before was now coated in a vibrant splay of purple, crimson, green, orange, and golden autumn leaves. The same change that I could feel within myself was literally visible on the ground beneath me...a blossoming to a prounounced deepening and maturation. It's amazing to me how nature mirrors the phases of our lives.

On this hike, I knew I would be tested. I recently made a vow to myself to always hike with the Ten Essentials, even on day hikes, so I had a pack of at least 10 lbs on the way up and 15 on the way down (I had some t-shirts and snacks we purchased at the top and newly refilled water bottle/bladder). I knew we would have at least a 13-mile day. I knew it would be unrelentingly uphill to the summit and just as steadily downhill on our return. I knew we would have a very full day and would be physically and mentally tired. Despite knowing what I was in for, there were still surprises and adrenaline rushes. That's something else deeply beautiful about being outdoors: you can be as prepared as all get out, and nature will still have unexpected fortunes in store for you.

All that being said, I reached my actual physical limit on this hike. I think better-quality boots would make a slight difference for me, but I can confidently say that for now, 16.5 miles is my limit. I think that's a pretty cool thing to know about myself. Maybe the AT is in my future as a section hike series, and I'll gladly accept that challenge if/when the time comes. But for now, I'll keep seeking out these day-hike mini adventures; they are enough.

Adventuring outside is no longer an option for me, but an absolute necessity to my being. Life, time, thought, perception, emotion, and expectation all take on completely different meaning when you're in an environment over which you have no control. And all the creature comforts like hot coffee, ice cold beer, cars, steamy showers, lotion, deodorant, mascara, warm socks, and dry clothes all take on different comfort when you return to them from the great unknown. This will never not be worth it.

Until next time, Mother Nature.

Peace,
-Kels

A new phase of motherhood

The last few months have been really hard for me as a mom and just for our household in general.

Kimmy and I have had a huge routine adjustment. We've transitioned from having our awesome babysitter and her 2 sons in our home every day to earlier mornings of getting ready for school and work together and rushing out the door. In addition to preschool, we've added in dance class (and an inevitable fast-food dinner) on Thursday nights. We don't get home until 5:30pm most days and 7:15pm on Thursdays. Dinner happens soon after we get home. Then it's bath, books, and bedtime with lights out at 8:00pm. We're exhausted. We're cranky. We have a hard time listening attentively. We lack patience with each other. There are lots of apologies. Days are long and full.

But we're happy.

Kimmy is learning so, so much at school. She knows all her letters and can count to 20 (higher with my help). She asks me to spell every word under the sun, and she's starting to read beginner sight words with repetition. We read all the time, and she's so very interested in it. I love watching the gears turn behind her eyes. Oh, and she gets a TON of playtime. I really love her school.

Our life is filled with book fairs, kids' birthday parties, stacks of preschool artwork, playdates with school friends, long Saturdays of errands, and a messy house we're never in, except to sleep.

I guess I didn't realize how quickly it would happen once Kimmy started school and new activities, but I'm finally making friends in this town. This has been my biggest challenge in Bloomington--since it's a college town, people come and go and move on to different states and places in their lives. It's hard to make and keep friends because before you blink, they're done with this town and off and away. I haven't clicked with anyone in a close friends type of way until now. It's such a relief! Our next door neighbor and her kids rock; we have a ton in common. I know a few dance moms. I know a handful of school moms. I don't feel so isolated anymore! It's really nice to have a few people who are in the same phase of life with me. The introduction and hand-shaking phase is awkward at first (just like networking, which I suck at), but the rewards are great. I'm really excited to ride this wave.

Anyway, I'm just thankful for this phase of motherhood. My heart has been wavering a bit lately between trying to pull me back home to WV (where my friends and family and the great outdoors are, but where jobs and good benefits and a liberal mentality are not) and staying here. Now that the dullest part of my life is filling out a bit, I think I'll stay awhile--at least until I'm done with grad school.

Bloomington will forever be the place I remember as my growing place, no matter where I end up. This is where I found myself again and where I chose to plant my feet firmly, even when the soil was slippery wet. One day I'll look back on these challenging few years and smile knowing that I got to a place where the stress isn't quite so heavy, all while taking it in stride. If I've got one thing going for me, it's grit.

Now if I could just find the time and motivation to get in shape. Or maybe that's in a season up ahead, too.

Peace,
-Kels

Introspection

I'm an introvert. As if anyone didn't know.

Sometimes I can't function in an out-loud fashion. I have these bouncing, fleeting, swirling thoughts that I need complete quiet to assess. I have to hole up and retreat inside myself and connect the bigger picture in my head. I'm always searching for profundity in all things, big and small. (There are actually a bunch of cool words for this phenomenon.) It's just my thing. I have been this way for as long as I can remember.

I holed up on Saturday.

When I go into myself like this, I just stop talking to my peeps for days on end. I avoid small talk at all costs (but let's be honest: I do this all the time because if I have nothing worthwhile to say or think that I'm responding to something that has no depth, I would rather not talk at all). It's like I can't come back out of my shell until I'm defragmented on the inside.

Until recently, I couldn't even put words to what this process is like, but here's my crack at a semi-articulate version. It's kind of like the 5 stages of grief as I weave back and forth through the different steps until I'm at resolution.

Step 1: Self-analysis. I like to see if I can boil traits and characteristics and flaws I have down to the events or people in my life that may have caused or shaped them. Basically I try to figure out why I am the way I am...why I do things, think things, and interpret things as I do.

Step 2: Complete radio silence. As little speaking as possible. Lots of reading. Lots of sleeping (well, as much as my hectic schedule will allow). Lots of calm and quiet surrounding my in-process thoughts.

Step 3: Synthesis. I start to think in essay-like structure about the dots I've been connecting, and then I write in my journal a lot. Though last night I couldn't find my journal ANYWHERE. I tore my house apart. I am so bummed. But I absolutely had to write in that moment to get clarity on a few things, so I made due with another notebook. It's amazing how cathartic it is to purge onto the page.

Step 4: Music. I go on a total music binge. I will stay awake hours past my bedtime to soak in as many tunes as possible in this phase. Last night I was up until 2:30am listening to Wild + Free on Spotify.

Step 5: Revamp. When I'm almost done cleaning up my insides, I start to goal-set and focus on a handful of very particular things. This week I've been hyper-focused on homework, clean eating, and drinking tons of water. My goal has been 1 gallon of water per day, and today will be the 3rd day in a row I've hit it. I tend to be kind of chronically dehydrated all the time (a bizarre holdover from my aversion to drinking water when I was pregnant with Kimmy), so it's good to feel hydrated and refreshed!

Once I'm revamped and in a groove, I re-join society.

Kinda weird, right? But it's me. Introvert through and through.

Peace,
-Kels

To the mom who jokes about being a temporary single mom

This has bothered me for 2 years, so I'm just going to get right to it.

I periodically stumble across a status here or there on Facebook during my late-night mindless scrolling that says something along the lines of, "Well, hubby is away for 2 weeks, and I'm home alone with the kids. Time to be a single mom," or, "After my afternoon trip to the mall alone with the kids, I don't know how single moms do it."

I can't begin to tell you how deeply offensive this is.

Even if it's followed by a "kudos," it's not a compliment. It stings even worse, actually, because it proves that you don't see us. If you did, you'd never say that.

Being a single parent is not something you choose. It's not something you can turn on and off. It's not something you set out to be. It is thrust upon you, either by person or by circumstance. If you love your child, you'll do it. That's "how we do it." We have to. There is no other option.

It is not a life I would ever wish on anyone. I love my daughter more than life itself, but being a single mom is the hardest job I will ever have. I am physically, mentally, emotionally, and financially stretched 100% of the time. I truly worry that I will die of a heart attack before I'm 40 from stress. I honestly worry about this. I am exhausted day in and day out. I dream of naps I will never, ever get to take. I dream of an empty sink and clean carpets and plenty of washed and folded clothes to choose from on any given day. I dream of a shower.

[Fun fact: I probably only shower 4 times a week at the most. Why? I need sleep more than I need a full shower. I opt for a soap-and-water washcloth wipe all the other times.]

While your little "single mom" charade is temporary, mine is not. Where you have a light at the end of the tunnel (husband, fiance, boyfriend), I have nothing but endless days of sole-responsibility monotony with my highest expectation being that of merely keeping my head above water.

While you may bicker with your significant other about child-rearing, I have to pay a lawyer thousands of dollars several times a year in order to have assistance having a civil, productive conversation with my daughter's father in a courtroom.

While you get to pick and choose when you get solo time away from your kids, I only get it as it is thrust upon me by court-mandated visitation. This is not time I spend in blissful solitude; this is time I split equally between worrying about/missing my daughter and engaging in morning-to-night activities to try to distract myself from such loneliness.

While you get breaks from certain tasks (chores, errands, being "on" as a parent, etc.), know that I never do. Even if my child is away, I'm the only other one who lives here, and I have to do every bit of it.

While you get a literal pair of arms to sink into on tough days, I get only beautiful toddler arms--they are my favorite arms, but these are hugs in which I have to be the strong, sturdy, consoling one. I don't ever get to fall apart.

When you get to unwind sitting next to another human body each evening, I sit silently by myself and marvel at how I've simply made it through another day.

It's not glamorous. At all. I'm a joyful person who seeks out happiness and adventure, despite (and in spite of) this single mom role, and I find it and share it--that's what you see. That's what I get complimented on, and I can't thank you enough for that.

But you don't walk in my shoes on the days when everything around me seems to be an obstacle in my path. The days when I trudge through mud all day long only to go to sleep and do the same thing all day the next day. When I'm one straw away from feeling like I have reached my final limit, and I may actually self-combust from enduring so much stress.

So when someone jokes about being a single mom, yes, I take offense. And, no, I'm not overreacting.

I'm not in the slightest trying to say that I deserve congratulations for parenting all by myself or that I'm better than any other type of mom for it. In fact, I'd argue that I'm a worse mom. My daughter gets the butt end of my lack of patience every single evening when we're both exhausted and fumbling through our bedtime routine. She misses out on a lot of great experiences because we can't afford to do them with our extremely limited household budget. When we're bickering, she can't just go to the other parent for comfort. We're all we've got, and it's not just me doing all the struggling on rough days.

This is not about comparison. This is simply about understanding. If you're lucky enough to be parenting your kids with a partner, I just want you to understand that, no, you don't actually know what this is like. You don't feel what I feel. You couldn't. And I truly hope that you never have to.

But the next time you're about to vent about not knowing how a single parent does it because of your very small glimpse into what it's like to have to do everything all by yourself with no end in sight, I hope that you'll keep that thought to yourself and post something else on Facebook instead.

-Kels

Why is her hair always a mess?

My little baby Kimmy is about to turn 4, and I've been having a really hard time coping. I've been stewing on this blog for a month or so, watching each day come and go, whirling us unrelentingly forward to her birthday, to preschool, to ballet lessons, to her very last year of being a toddler.

I've finally decided that I just don't have the words to describe how much I love her, how proud I am of her, and how thankful I am to have her in my life, so I'm not even going to try to do it justice. A poem (the title of which was fueled by a hateful comment) [to spite the negativity in our lives] and some pictures will have to do!


Why is her hair always a mess?

She is wild like the sun's rays as they dart through the trees,

like the West Virginia blood that has trickled down to her.

She goes where her heart leads,

following each tug with a brave grin.

She plays and laughs and runs, and each curly
ringlet rises up to meet the next big adventure.

She is born from the deepest need for

healing to a mother who wanted her so.

She is her great-grandmother's great-granddaughter,

fiercely strong and aware of the gentlest among us.

She is her nana's heart, joyful and 

compassionate, unwavering in her beliefs.

She is her mommy's best friend, a soft

landing when our days are full of turmoil.

She is a kind smile and a sweet thought

whenever someone hurts.

She is her namesake through and through.

She is the sun, the rain, the moon, and the stars all in one.

Why tiptoe when we can leap and dance?

Why tame a wild thing when there is laughter to be had?

Why hold back when there is a trail to be blazed?

You can always wear your hair down around me, sweet girl. 

Messy or not, we know what our insides are all about.

3 generations and 1 in the womb

The day I left to check into the hospital to have my girl 

The picture that will forever make me feel the most beautiful

My sweet angel girl, 9 days old

6 months

Kimmy's 1st birthday!

Kimmy's 2nd birthday!

Kimmy's 3rd birthday--at Disney World!

Kimmy's 1st haircut on her birthday at WDW!

June 2016, camping with her momma

June 2016, West Beach of Lake Michigan at Indiana Dunes National Park

June 2016, evening playtime with her momma

And now we're 2 days away from age 4. To say I'm in shock would be an understatement.

But, to say I'm excited for all that the future holds for my beautiful Kimmy and me would be an even bigger understatement. I absolutely cannot wait for all that is to come.

I love you, Kimberly Jarae Strickland!

8/7/12 was the start of the best phase of my life, all thanks to YOU!

Love,

Mommy

Extraordinary things

I find myself falling into familiar patterns all too often these days. I stumble upon a guy who quickly becomes a good friend, I sometimes develop feelings (sometimes not), and I play it by ear. We talk about everything, laugh a lot, get close, and I think things are great.

Then there's the ghosting (or at least extreme pullback). Reciprocal communication becomes fewer and farther in between. Eventually I realize I'm the only one talking. Then for a brief moment, I hit the bottom of this weird, emotional pit before bouncing back.

I think this a single mom pattern/weakness: happening upon someone who is a good listener, getting wrapped up in that feeling and talking a lot, and then realizing retrospectively that you've shared too much and been too real, and the guy couldn't handle it. This solo parenting thing is a lonely gig. It feels so good to have someone to share thoughts with. But based on my [very limited] experience, I think guys just get confused and scared.

Single parents have lots of thoughts, limited sounding boards, a super high level of stress and responsibility, and like no free time. Oh, and the list of things to do never, ever ends. There is always something, and we are the only ones there to do it. Life never stops, and peaceful pauses are rare. That responsibility feeling rubs off, and I'm sure it's an unpleasant taste for a non-parent guy. I get it. I really do.

I guess the part of all this I need to continue to drill into my brain is what while Kimmy is a normal part of my life, she's not a normal part of any one of these guy's lives. They don't get it--or at least if they get it logically, they don't get it practically because they don't live it. They can't separate her from me and just take me for what I am. I can see how it's all a bit intimidating.

I'm just SO BUMMED about it.

I'm not daddy shopping for my daughter. I don't want to talk about my child all the time. (But let's be real: she's a part of my life, and she's going to come up from time to time.) I just want to feel like a normal 27-year-old woman sometimes. I want a person just for me when I'm entering into a fun, maybe-more-than-friends-one-day dialogue.

I just wish that guys wouldn't assume the worst and be so quick to slam that door. I'm worth the stress and the drama that follows me and the time it takes to get some face time with me. I'm worth it all. The man who takes the effort to discover that will be one lucky son of a gun.

--

Guys everywhere, take heed:

Do not ghost a woman. She can literally see that you saw that message. It has a time stamp. Say something. If you're not interested, if you're scared, if you're on different pages, if you're going away on vacation for 5 months, if you're just looking for a hook-up, whatever the reason is...

Be real. Be honest. Speak up and break things off.

That's what it means to be a man.

That's the respectful choice.

Sure, you may not feel you owe a woman anything, and, sure, that may even be true, depending on many factors. But at least cowboy up and give her some damn closure. Even if she reacts like a fool, she'll still respect your honesty a hell of a lot more than never hearing from you again, as if she's not worth the ounce of effort it takes to text a 1-sentence goodbye.

When women say all men are the same, this is the type of BS we're talking about--because y'all prove it time and time again. Quit being so damn disappointing and prove us wrong for once!

--

So this is where "extraordinary things" comes into play. When I land in this emotional pit, I think to myself, "How did I find myself here again?" Then I realize it. My story isn't over--not even close. I am fine. I'm alive and healthy. I still have my friends and my family and my passions. I still have my mind, full of art and depth and dreams and plans. I'm still me. I'm intact. I'm standing. I'm better off.

I will do, see, and experience extraordinary things in this lifetime, regardless of who comes in and out of my story. And I'm actually never more motivated to dive deeply into my passions than when I find myself here over and over and over.

Maybe one great love isn't for me in this life. Maybe these small glimpses of it are enough. I have my daughter through it all, so where has love really gone off to? Nowhere. It's present and constant.

Being in this place makes words flow out of me. It makes me spend more time with my daughter. I'm a better friend. I travel more. I appreciate all the real people in my life even more. I toughen the parts of me that need toughening and settle deeper into the parts of me that need to remain soft. I take a good, hard look at myself and deliberately examine my headspace. So thanks for that. You're actually doing me a favor.

Take me or leave me, but if you're going to ghost me, leave me the hell alone.

-Kels

P.S. this post has been a draft for months. (I'm not happy with my first drafts lately, so I do a lot of slow crafting before I publish.) It's a culmination of experiences, not a passive-aggressive swing at any one dude. I'm in a really good place right now. If you're in my life, I hope you know we're good, too.

Fearless or nah?

I hear a lot that I don't seem to be afraid of anything and that it's cool that I fearlessly tackle life. While that's an incredible compliment, I'd like to keep things humble and human with a list of my deepest fears:

1. Getting my teeth knocked out on a clothing rack in a store. (Yes, I'm serious. This is fear #1. Clothes racks are at the exact height of my mouth, and I've had several near-toothless experiences. I even have nightmares about it. If I'm in a clothing section, my hand is over my mouth more often than not.)

2. Being 95 years old and not having done every single thing I want to do in this lifetime--but I tackle that fear head on every time I get outside and go adventuring.

3. Eye surgery and dental surgery. Terrified. Absolutely terrified. If I ever have to have either, I will most certainly have a massive panicky meltdown.

4. Finding a tick on my head. Being bitten by a tick? Not so much. The threat of Lyme Disease? Nope. But touching my scalp and finding that there's a tick on there the size of a big, bulgy gray-green grape sucking out my blood and whose head I may never extrude, thus forcing my body to absorb its ticky cranium? HORRIFIED. FRIGHTENED BEYOND BELIEF. If this ever happens, I will go straight to an urgent care clinic to get it handled, not even kidding. It would be the only thing keeping me from burning a hole in my own scalp to make sure that sucker died!

5. Being in another car accident. Ever since Kimmy and I got hit by that drugged-up driver in June, I have had some pretty intense anxiety issues. The sound of the crunching metal and the smell of the leaking radiator and airbag-deployment explosives haunt me day and night. I don't ever want to experience anything like that again.

6. Not death (because I know where I'm going), but the thought of me dying early and leaving all sorts of unfinished business in my daughter's/family's hands. I have a will, but that only does so much to settle the nerves, you know?

Annnnnd, that's all, folks!

-Kels