I recently ended a five-month long distance relationship with a man who lived in Chicago. We matched on Tinder when he was here for work, and met when he was back a few weeks later. Things went well from the start and I think that I can generally see most red flags from a mile away, so while I ended up ignoring some things, I also didn’t really see anything serious to be concerned about. The distance and time between seeing one another felt like a good pace that forced us to slow down, we worked on our connection between visits and enjoyed as much time together as we could when he was here. Because of the distance and time, I didn’t become consumed by my feelings for him and it felt like it was just really solid, steady and we had great communication. At some point a couple months in, I just had this feeling that things he was saying didn’t add up or make sense. We were sitting on my couch, and before I could stop myself, I asked, “Are you sure you’re actually divorced?” He assured me he was. After that I definitely started paying more attention. Things started feeling weird and like they just did not make sense. It wasn’t long before I started to disconnect emotionally from him little by little. By November I was questioning if this was what I wanted, by December I was struggling to make sense of things and he was becoming distant as well, while also assuring me he knew for sure he didn’t want to lose me and he was committed to us. It was ultimately a very confusing time. I knew I had to end it because when I really looked at it, it wasn’t what I wanted. And when I did, it seemed so straight forward, but I was left with so many unanswered questions. After a few drinks one weekend after ending it with him, a girl friend and I did some digging and found his wife. Yes, his WIFE.

Within seconds, he had blocked me on Instagram even though I’d already unfollowed him and he has a private account so it’s not like I could see anything anyway. His wife’s Pinterest account was gone and my last text wouldn’t go through. By all accounts, he disappeared.

Now, in the past I would have wanted to know how he could have done this to me, or how he could be such a liar for so long, or if he had any remorse for what he had done. I would have wanted answers or to try and understand what I did wrong. In other words, I might have become all but consumed by this bullshit relationship. But because of the early doubt and questioning I started feeling, I stayed steady with myself and with the things that I always do- working out, yoga, my little obsession with my plants, painting, and finding other things to do. I also entered into it telling myself I would do it as long as it was what I wanted and as long as it felt good. I guess in a way having a long distance relationship forced me to do that anyway since we weren’t together as often, but I really chose to focus on myself and all the things I enjoy, along with my kids and friends, and it not only protected me, but my love and care for myself truly ended up being the thing that helped keep me from feeling any big aftermath sadness. This wasn’t just a story of me ending a thing with someone I thought I really liked, but it was a reconciling of sorts. What was even true about what I learned about him? Was his name even what he said it was? Did he even do the job he said he did? There were so many unanswered questions and I accepted early on that this was a situation where I would never get closure from him, and that I had to just accept it for what it was; an entire lie. That was the only answer I will ever have.

Regardless of how someone treats you, it’s never about you. You don’t deserve lies of any kind. You deserve the truth every time, even when it’s hard. The trouble with lies is it takes away your right to respond in the way that works for you. They lie so they get what they want, and while you do get to make your own decisions, you’re making decisions based on something that isn’t true so it’s not one you might make with all the information. Lies only benefit the liar. You do better when you know better, and that’s how you know you’re doing what’s right for you. Even when things were really good, I wasn’t sure I wanted this relationship. I was noticing things I didn’t like and I remember my mom saying do YOU want this? Is this good for you? and the truth is, I didn’t. When I ended it, I ended it for me. I had enough information from the last 5 months, the more recent feelings of confusion, and his changed behavior that I was done. All those things I liked in the beginning- slower pace, time and distance to keep things from becoming overwhelming- quickly became what I used to process everything. The thing I liked in the beginning was the thing that allowed me to see what was real, to process and end it for myself. I wasn’t willing to wait and see. There wasn’t enough in it that felt good anymore and hanging onto the good I thought we did have had started to cause me too much distress.

In every relationship, no matter how good or bad, there is something to be learned. I felt good with him, which sounds stupid to say now knowing what I know. It was a grounding, safe relationship…until it wasn’t. I can see it as both now. I can see where I may have overlooked small things, but I also struggle with relationship anxiety at times and c-PTSD from my past marriage, so I tend to be hyper-vigilant and so I was balancing the good stuff I felt with what might have been hyper-vigilance and also wanting to lean into it and show up as fully as I could. I liked being excited to see him after a couple weeks, I enjoyed the dynamics of our relationship in many ways, but there were those other things that did make me take a closer look and pay more attention and ultimately got me to make a decision for myself. I think it’s okay to see and appreciate both sides of what was. At the time, I didn’t know he was a liar so from where I was at that time, I can see the good because that was and is the experience I had. I’m not here to analyze him for the why or how he did that, and I don’t want to. I can only learn for myself moving forward. It may add another layer to how I navigate future relationships, but one thing is for sure, I took away so many good lessons.

1. Always choose yourself. You don’t have to agree that it’s time to end it. If you’re not feeling it, you can end it without any discussion. Chances are you’ve tried asking for what you needed and wanted at least once before you got to this point.
2. Keep your girl friends, keep up with your routines and activities you enjoy. Don’t stop doing things that make you feel good when you get a partner because when things get hard, you won’t have to try and return to those things. Even routines we know feel good can be hard to get back to when times are tough.
3. Trust yourself. There’s usually a good reason your gut got you to the decision you made.
4. Don’t beat yourself up for not knowing better. When you know better you do better (which you do when you end one-sided relationships!)
5. Finally, you may never get closure or an apology, and you have to be okay with that. Accepting them as they are and how things ended gives you freedom you never knew possible. Doing this will save yourself huge amounts of time and energy that can be better spent on things that feel good to your heart. Accept what is and get back to living your life on your terms and don’t spend one more minute giving bad people your energy, even if from afar. You are enough, you are worthy of the truth and you’re whole just as you are.

It’s easy to have a running list of the things you’d like to change about yourself. Whether it’s a physical feature or the way you’re always late or how you overthink everything, it’s easy to keep wishing yourself to be different.

While change isn’t bad and we can decide to work on the things that bother us the most, how do we decide what’s worth working on? Do we want to change something because it’s truly impacting our quality of life so change is a personal decision, or is it because we think we’ll be more accepted or loved by someone else if these things were different? And are we working on things for ourselves or to fit a certain aesthetic based on what society tells us we should or shouldn’t be?

I’ve always had these thoughts. For a long time these thoughts were intrusive until one day I realized that unless I did something very different, it would never end.

Not only did I have to get real with the fact that I was letting myself be incredibly perfectionistic, I also had to change my thoughts around these things. My body has been a source of this for as long as I can remember. Then coming out of an abusive relationship, I was constantly working on myself. I thought who I was was unloveable, too much, that my anxious tendencies were exhausting even when I didn’t openly share about it. The day I realized there would always be something I want to work on and therefore I could just accept this about myself as a whole was the day I found a lot more peace of mind.

Letting go and going deep on radical self-acceptance has been the main difference in getting to where I am. I’m still working on it every damn day and I have to write each morning to set the tone for my day and also at night to tell myself what I did well and what I appreciated from my day.

What is Radical Self-Acceptance and how can we do it?

Radical self-acceptance is taking a really good look at ourselves and being able to notice things about ourselves as they are, and let go of judgment, being truthful with what is real, and doing it without resistance. This isn’t the same as complacency or being okay with what is; it’s understanding that sometimes some things can’t be changed right now, and we can begin to look at our own role in how we got to where we are. Without self-acceptance, suffering continues.

The more we focus on parts of ourselves we don’t like or don’t accept, the more the suffering grows. We focus so hard on those things that it can become nearly impossible to just live without that thing weighing us down. These thoughts can make us feel like there’s something really wrong with us.

There is freedom in accepting what is real, whether we like it or not. We’re constantly inundated with offers to join gyms, fitness memberships, for treatments and supplements to improve this or that part of our bodies. At times I fall into the trap of wanting to try something to smooth and tighten my tummy that was the home for four babies and it’s almost like I get entranced by the potential improvement I can’t seem to achieve just through diet and exercise that I’m willing to try anything. But at what point am I ever going to be truly satisfied with any result? The answer is probably never. I believe that if I’m going to find peace with this part of me, I need to practice my own advice of radical self-acceptance in regards to the physical parts of me that I hold the most disdain for. I can accept what is and still want to work on this aspect of me.

When we offer ourselves radical self-acceptance, it won’t feel like defeat. It feels like a sense of peace and calm, one that doesn’t wear us down and feel like the thing we are accepting is impossible to accept. Thinking about the things we like about ourselves and giving those things attention and acceptance can help when things come up that we don’t like or accept about ourselves. Practice the same acceptance for both positive and negative things.

Celebrate yourself, give yourself a ton of compassion and grace, and let things flow as they do without beating yourself up when you have a set back. This is an opportunity to look at what happened, how you want to do better next time and just flow with it. Feel your feelings as you work on accepting all of you and let go of the urge to resist what comes up.

Shifting the focus from the negative to the positive is hard, but it’s worth it. What we focus on will grow. Accepting what is real is the start to making the biggest change which is when self-love can really begin. Perfection is impossible and a trap our society wants us to believe is possible. Pushing back on what we dislike, resisting the urge to be perfect, and real acceptance is the greatest gift we can give ourselves.

I’ve waited a long time to be chosen. I thought that was the goal- for someone else, who didn’t have to, to see your worth and to choose you, to love you, to stay with you. I don’t know when it started, but I’ve waited most of my life for someone to see that thing in me they wanted to stay for.

Since the times when I put my sisters in front of me so I could protect them from why they fought, I’d wait by the swinging door, ear pressed against the cold white wood, only to tell them we were alright, and there was nothing to worry about. There was buy I didn’t want them to worry. Or maybe it was being told how intense I was all the time had me thinking if I just didn’t ask for what I wanted or needed, that maybe if I wasn’t too much of a nuisance, maybe then they’d decide to stay.

Then there were my babies. Four of them. I never once thought a man would stay because there was a baby, because I knew I would be able to handle motherhood on my own if they stayed or not.

Husbands and relationships have come and gone, or men half-way show up and drop out just as quickly as they showed up. I finally got real with myself in the last year or so during the pandemic and realized I had been selling myself short for most of my life.

I had been married a few years when things started to get really bad with my now ex-husband. My oldest son was around 13 years old and asked me why I didn’t leave my abusive (now ex) husband. I realized I was giving my girls and boys a terrible example of what a relationship looks like. I was worth exponentially more than the shreds of a life I’d accepted, all in hopes that I’d finally be chosen if I just gave enough of myself to my kids, my husband, and this life I thought we were doing together. If I didn’t choose myself, then nothing NOTHING else mattered. What good was I to my kids if I didn’t see my worth and make that decision to leave rather than keep us in such an unhealthy life? Could I really be the best mother if I was willing to lose myself completely?

Throughout my life, I’ve noticed the outward pressure society puts on us is partnership, marriage, choosing and being chosen. That’s when you know you’ve made it. It starts so young; friendships are suddenly not enough and the pressure to have a boyfriend/girlfriend starts. It seems like it never stops until you get that relationship secured. And if you don’t have one? Something must be wrong with you. But what if what’s wrong is that there is this pressure to prioritize romantic love over all the other loves? What if we are mentally and emotionally stuck in the time when women depended on a man for her survival, to own land or inherit money? Do people even really know the history of marriage? I think about that a lot. It wasn’t that long ago that women couldn’t even control her own money. The pressure is still there to find a partner, that someone who chooses you. It feels apparent that when you find a partner, that you’ve made it in society, and that every one else will know you’re valuable and worthy.

But who are you if you don’t prioritize finding a partner? Who are you if you say no to the pressures to be in a relationship to give you a place in society? Who are you if you finally choose yourself first instead of the constant pressure to be chosen by someone else?

You get to be yourself. That’s it. You can just be a person without a relationship title tied to you. You get to finally see that you get to choose yourself first and always and every single time. Even within a relationship, this is the only option because not choosing yourself leads to losing your way from who you are. It leads to trying to negotiate yourself into someone’s heart, hoping they’ll finally see you, and overlooking the red flags or that gut feeling when something isn’t right. That worthiness comes from within and has to start there. With this realization comes understanding that you are worthy, valuable, lovable, and whole with or without a relationship. When you accept this, the striving can stop. You can simply be. Existing. Loving. Living. Realizing this becomes a deep knowing that you are valuable and lovable and worthy no matter what.

This isn’t to say you shouldn’t want a relationship, or that you shouldn’t want to be in love or that there’s anything wrong with feeling happy with someone. The issue is when you think someone else will do for us what we should be doing for yourself. The things you seek from others is a guide to what you need to give yourself. When I want attention, I give myself attention in whatever form I’d like to receive from someone else.

Give yourself all the things you want from someone else. Know yourself well. Invest in yourself, the hobbies that bring you joy, take yourself on dates, get comfortable being alone. Feel your feelings and get solid on your own two feet.

It wasn’t that long ago I was still wanting to be chosen and that would be my sign to choose them back fully. It was as though this was confirmation that this person was right for me. Thankfully I was able to come around and learn that’s not the way, at least not for me. Loving myself unconditionally and with full acceptance of who I am has opened me up to

How do I expect someone to choose me, if I never choose me?

In 2018 I wrote an article here about how I had been told over and over by men, that I dated like men. I just reread it because it gets a lot of views and I was also curious to revisit what I wrote back then.

I was reading through and as I scrolled through, I got to number 6….

If you’re fresh out of a relationship, we don’t want to date you to give you a post-divorce/break up ego boost. Be you. Be single. Go on lots of JUST dates. Go out with your boys. Do what you need to do. Let women you meet know you’re just getting back to dating after you got divorced and not looking for a relationship. Again, be honest. Let a woman decide if she’s up for that. Ladies, we can do the same. And I’m not in the business of trying to change your mind about what you should be doing with me, even if we have great chemistry. Timing is important.

This one kinda stopped me, and I slowed my reading. This is such good advice and I find myself in this situation more often than I’d like to admit (ahem, now). But what do you do if you’re a few months in and THEN, you’ve both expressed there’s feelings for the other, they let you know they’re committed to you, to the ‘us,’ to what you have, but they don’t know what they want? It’s early on, but I’m 41, and I know I want to work towards a relationship and this news really threw me off. Even if it’s slow, I appreciate slow growth since fast and intense doesn’t usually end well for me. But that still has me wondering how can you be committed to all of this but not know what you want?

Naturally I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I don’t want to feel played or strung along or mislead. I keep coming back to my own advice- I’m not going to convince you or try to sway you one way or another, and at the same time, I want to stay true to myself, what I want, and still have boundaries. Their decision has nothing to do with me, but for them to figure out on their own what they want. I can be patient for the right person, especially since what we have is so good. I’m not in a huge rush and hearing the reasons why made a lot of sense to me. When you date post-divorce, you learn that people have every agreement under the sun written into their divorce decrees and sometimes they make no sense to us on the outside of it, and sometimes they’re really detailed, or pretty general when it comes to introducing people to the kids. You learn you can trust them to know how to manage the intricacies of their agreements and situations. They do know best and maybe it won’t work out in the long run, but if it’s my ego and my own fears being placed into a situation that is otherwise something that feels right, deeply secure, fun, trustworthy and something I look forward to in every way, then my heart tells me it’s okay to let it play out, to give it a chance to grow into what it will (or won’t be).

I can let go of my need to always know the outcome before I tiptoe into the next step and just let go of the need to control things. Needing to control and know the outcome is a very masculine thing to do, and in my soul, that isn’t me. I don’t want to have to control things and when I do, it creates this domino effect of anxiety due to the over analyzing and the planning I think is happening, instead of just going with the flow, letting my intuition and feelings guide me. When I lean into what feels most natural, I feel my best. I feel secure in what I’m doing and things simply feel like they unfold perfectly.

Finding someone who naturally brings these qualities to the relationship is a huge breath of fresh air. I’m not used to it. I’ve never been asked what I need and doing this has been a huge place of growth for me. It requires vulnerability, trust, and an openness that has brought such a sense of relief when I’m met with feeling held, seen, heard, and just patiently loved through it all. He genuinely wants to meet my needs and be what I need from him, but not in a way that betrays himself. I feel my best when I let myself be the feeling, loving, open, honest woman I am. Letting go is on the top of my list of things to work on- especially letting go of outcomes and needing to know. I want to stay the same soft, sweet, relaxed, non-stressful version of myself I usually am and it is taking some deep self-work to do this when I’m feeling this other shit creep in. I’ve had to come up with some real tangible things I can do in these moments and this is what I’ve found truly works best to feel the feelings, move through them and move them out, and also just do what I need to get out of my head.

1. Work out. Go for a walk. Yoga. Anything to move my body works. Movement gets us out of the anxious state from the ground up. There’s not a lot you can focus on in your head for very long when you have the world around you to pay attention to, the next exercise in your routine to do, or when you’re listening to your yoga teacher. Movement also allows us to move the trauma through us, rather than storing it inside our bodies.
2. Deep breathing. You can do something simple like closing your eyes and just taking slow, belly filling breaths, holding it for a second and releasing it just as slowly. Sometimes I imagine a shape and breathe as I move along the sides of it for a certain count. I also love laying on my yoga mat, placing one hand on my belly and one on my heart and just feeling my heart and breath work effortlessly. Deep breathing stimulates the vagus nerve which is part of our parasympathetic nervous system. This naturally creates a sense of calmness and brings you back into your body, and is another way to keep that anxiety from getting stored or memorized into your body.
3. Write. Just free write. Or sometimes I will pick a word and use that as the thing I’m writing about. I think the act of writing, although we’re still kind of in our heads, it’s helping to get those thoughts out and on the page, hopefully helping with the rumination of thoughts that tend to swirl until we do something with it.
4. Make a cup of hot tea. For me, tea is something that soothes me from the outside in. I pay attention to each step, choosing the tea I want right then, usually it’s something grounding with elements of herbs rather than a florally one; boiling the water and listening to the sound of the water pouring into the mug. I swear hot water sounds different! The smells come next while feeling the warmth of the mug in my hands, and the way the first sip moves from my mouth to my stomach. Every one of my senses is filled, soothed and a nice distraction.
5. Sometimes I’ll play my only phone game. It forces me to think about strategy and I only get 5 moves at a time so by then it’s does its job and I move on with my day. And if I pass a level, I get a little dopamine rush as a bonus (lol).

As a single mom raising three kids (and one in college), I have to make so many decisions and be in control of everything, all the time. Love and relationships is not one of the places I want to be that way. I don’t want to be told I date like a man. I want to be able to let that side of me go when I’m with someone because I trust them so much that I can drop deeply into my more natural feminine ways and just let what will be, be. I want to learn to trust myself and my intuition and to be able to tell the difference between anxiety and intuition. I know I’m getting there because I’m not as cutthroat as I used to be. Knowing the difference between when someone is genuine with you so you can trust that versus someone taking advantage and stringing you along is a really big step and one that’s important because some people truly do deserve to be given patience if that’s one of the only things they’re asking of you.

I rather like the softness of my belly, the curve of my hips and the soft sway of my low back as it curves out to meet my ass. I like the way as I’ve gotten older, my hips have shown a new silouette. I don’t want a six-pack or super low body fat. I want softness and strength. I think that’s because that’s who I am and have always been. Soft but strong. I like the way my body feels when my hand rests on my stomach as I drift off to sleep. I like that I know which little stretch marks were made by each baby. But how do you stay soft when you have had to be so ridiculously strong for most of your life?

I have always been obsessed with moss for its softness and ability to make a rock a safe, soft spot to birth a baby or to sit upon or to just touch and notice how it manages to grow on anything and just be what it is. I love running my hands over it, noticing how it fills cracks and crevices, making everything look like one. I wanted to use moss in a business name, but so frequently everyone associates it with passive softness, covering and softening. The truth is “moss is inconceivably strong. Moss eats stone; scarcely anything, in return, eats moss. Moss dines upon boulders, slowly but devastatingly, in a meal that lasts for centuries. Given enough time, a colony of moss can turn a cliff into gravel, and turn that gravel into top soil.”

I was told once that I was like the black widow spider when it comes to men. I don’t need to bite off the head of my lover or have it in me to destroy them. I think in that way I’m more like moss. Most people don’t think I have it in me, don’t know what I went through to get to where I am. The strength it’s taken to get to where I am is quiet, unsuspecting and determined to make any hard spots soft…for myself, for my kids and for (almost) anyone in my life. Is it the maternal nature that lives within me? Is it because I’m a cancer? Is it just who I am that I have this innate ability to make hard edges softer and yet not necessarily more palatable? I don’t want to be more palatable. I push the edges, the boundaries of what’s expected, of what I want to say and what I do say. I’m sure it makes people uncomfortable because I have always gone my own way. I devour every challenge that comes my way, breaking it down into digestible bites. Moss will literally break down whatever it covers. But unless it’s removed, no one notices moss and what it does. I feel like that’s how I love. I don’t mean to smother or break anyone down, and I definitely am open when I love someone, so maybe I do, or maybe it’s so subtle they don’t recognize it until I’m gone and they realize what’s happened and they see where they were broken open and could have done better. Moss is tough as hell and yet a soft landing place. Women are like that. We don’t even know how tough we are until we have to be and until we stop to rest and that’s when we notice as our little worlds start to fall apart because that’s how much we hold it together. Since becoming more present in life, I really love noticing the feelings I have when falling slowly in love. I want that; the slowly then all at once.

I am proud of my quiet strength, my ability to just keep going and hang onto what’s available to me to keep going. To make my own way, to not give up and to have achieved such a deep sense of self-acceptance and self-love. I battled this body and wondered why I am the way I am or so long. I used to think I wanted a tummy tuck and a boob lift and honestly, let me be a soft landing place, for myself and for my kids and for the ones I let into my life. And this body is just that, a home for a soft but strong woman full of love. One with tenacity and guts and grit and love and one where when your fingers trace my ribs and the curve of my hip, and they feel the rise and fall of my chest or my tummy, you feel the warmth of an eternity inside her.

I can’t be afraid of death when I’ve had to let versions of me die in order to be reborn

I’ve lived a thousand lives and died as many deaths, forced to recreate my life and who I am with the shifting and changing that happens as we go.

I reincarnate as another version of me; same body, same face, same name, another me. There’s been little time to mourn between life, death and rebirth, often finding myself missing versions of who I was before- before another baby, another man- especially those who came without good intentions. Before I was anyone’s mother, I wonder who I would have been. There are versions of me that never were and never will be, existing like ghosts, shadows of possibilities, and I imagine her wild and free.

I’m not afraid of death because I don’t think it’s the end. And I surprise people when they hear pieces of my story. They call it resilient, overcoming adversity, vulnerable and strong to share stories that brought me to my knees. The parts they miss are the bloodied fingers, raw from pulling myself up along the craggy edges of the little bits of life left in me, hopeful the threads will be woven into a warm blanket covering me when I emerge.

I flirted with death, fantasizing of what it would be like to be free of the pain he wanted me to feel when he tore me down. Convinced I was the common denominator and for that reason, I should go, I realized because I WAS the common denominator, I had to stay. Reinvention is a gift, a possibility, surprising and shocking the ones that thought maybe that would be the thing that I couldn’t handle.

I let versions of me die, keeping and guarding the parts I loved. I let old beliefs about who I was die. I put energy into what I want to grow, drawing boundaries and protecting what I’ve created so I can continue living this one precious life without having to restart life over and over.

I’m not afraid of death, but I want to keep living fully and with intention, and to have a life I don’t have to mourn. Reinvention is one thing I think we can do at any time, but I’m tired of reincarnation; of starting over and over and over, with deja vu visiting me in dreams, trying to remember in which life that happened. The shadows of possibility inspire me to live in a way so that I live intentionally and fully.

They say we’re given the same problems, challenges and troubles until we have fully learned the lessons we’re supposed to learn. I think I’ve finally learned the lessons I needed to learn and I’m hopeful that my next death will be my last; an old lady full of stories of joy, love, and a life well-lived.

For most of my life, I have kept careful track of my body. It’s been a lifetime of examining it, eyeing it, measuring it, paying attention to my weight, sizes of clothing, how things fit, bra sizes. You name it, I’ve kept track. I saw my body and it’s appearance as a measure of how well someone should accept me and that other’s thoughts about me were the truth. I remember as young as seven years old being told I was fat and believing it, seeing one sister a competitive gymnast at a young age and my older sister a ballerina. I was an average kid, probably pretty strong and athletic, but I heard things that damaged my perception of my body.

It’s easy for me to rip apart this picture of me; this body, my face.

I see a tummy with stretch marks from babies I carried, weight gained and lost, freckles on my face that the beauty industry will try to tell me I should fade out to have a clear face, breasts that have lost their shape from nourishing and growing four babies, eyes that speak volumes of lives lived and lost, love, loss and hope, strength unknown and yet, it all comes down to that tummy. If only it was flat and had no wrinkles; if only I didn’t have to sit a certain way to make it look alright. I visited cosmetic surgeons for tummy tuck consultations and breasts lifts.

But, I grew four healthy babies in this body! My body has survived rape, abuse, a horrible pregnancy that I lost at 16 weeks that caused me to lose 44 pounds in three weeks, my kidneys to begin to fail. I starved this body to try to make it what I thought would be better. I beat it up by working out too much, in ways my body didn’t totally respond well to, enduring relentless pain that would not go away, and not always feeding it well.

And finally, after over 30 years of fighting and shaming my body, I’m done. I am learning to love this body I was given for all it has done. It continues to do so many amazing things and is on a path of healing, and gives me the strength I have to continue growing physically, emotionally and mentally. Giving into myself, listening to how my body responds to different work outs and only doing those that leave me feeling well, eating nourishing foods, listening to myself when I need rest instead of pushing on. It’s not easy to to feel confident in a body that always received messages of unworthiness.

Much of my life has felt out of control and that I was living for others. I thought my body was a reflection of me. I’m a perfectionist and struggle with anxiety, so I consistently put myself after so many others and thought if I just did this or that or my body was different in whatever way (there was always some thing I thought could be different), maybe I’d be beautiful. Maybe that dress would look better on me. I compared myself to my sisters. And, maybe men would stay. Maybe they wouldn’t go or cheat or leave or lie. It was all a lie; but me in this body, I could control that, so I tried. The irony? Nothing else changed. Men still left. They cheated. They lied. They went away. The only consistent along the way was that they always tried see what I/my body could offer them. I still wondered if that dress or those jeans would look better IF something was different. It became obsessive and an unending struggle. I felt like everything else I was good at wasn’t enough because physically things didn’t match up.

This weekend I had a really hot summer day to myself and decided to go to my mom’s pool. When I saw my reflection in a mirror in my bikini, I wasn’t grossed out. I actually felt proud of what I saw. The days and days of yoga I’m doing, the gentleness I treat myself with when it comes to food, the love I’m giving myself; it’s paying off. I refuse to keep beating myself up and to continue the years of harm it’s already endured. As I tune into myself more and honor what I know I need, my body is changing in the ways I always wanted it to. I see the strength in this body, how it’s gotten me to where I’m at now. I remembered that day I was rushing to my car when I was 20 years old, with a baby on my hip, I stepped on a rock and fell. I instinctively fell in such a way to protect my baby and was able to get up and keep going. My body knew how to protect him and me. I always get up and keep going.

It’s funny how for years I’ve been searching for answers and guidance and for help with a whole lot of self-love, always looking outward for those answers, but when I started to pay attention, the answers have been right there, where they probably were all along, waiting for me to be ready to listen.

Take the pictures…

It was the kids weekend with me, and like always I had so much to do. I have a graduation party for my oldest son coming in two weeks, Amaija’s birthday in a week, yard work, house work, cooking, blah blah blah… Anja was begging me to go on a bike ride, but she wanted to go alone with me, and while I understand wanting that time together, I kept explaining I can’t leave out a sibling just because she doesn’t want them to go, how leaving them out to just wait at home would make them feel so bad. The trail brought us around this lake and they wanted to go on the dock so as much as I just wanted to get home to keep getting stuff done, we pulled over and I just sat on the dock watching them show each other rocks, Calvin trying to teach Anja how to skip rocks and then, since it was just so pretty out, I thought I’d take some pictures.

The whole time I’m thinking, smile, don’t smile…when you do that, your eyes have so many lines or the circles, so I said let’s turn this way (better lighting?). And yet, nothing helped. My eyes are just struggling right now with everything and I was given deep set eyes so sometimes there’s just not much I can do. The kids went off to keep playing and I looked at the pics.

That’s when I thought I should just delete them all, as much as I want picture of us together.

Look, their faces are so flawless, I mean just look at them!! And then me, yikes. I’ve been stressed and exhausted and it shows.

Even with all the sleep I think I got, working out and being mindful, some things just don’t make enough of a difference. But this is real life {single} motherhood — the exhaustion, the not enough sleep, the stress of doing it all, going going going constantly for my four kids, never sure the money will stretch far enough.

And then, I remembered this article I read where the mother had passed away. Her children were going through her photos for the funeral and just remembering their mom and their life they had with her. They absolutely loved all the photos of their mother from their childhood, and simply thought she was beautiful. They reminisced and talked about their beautiful mom. It’s hard to believe that kids don’t see the exhaustion or the dark circles. They just see their mom, her love for them, knowing she’s always there, her smile, and a lifetime of memories.

It often feels like this life raising my kids on my own, with one income is just too much. There are days I want to quit, just throw in the towel when I feel inadequate and that I’m just not living up to what I want to be as a mom. I want to offer my kids so much more, but I also want them to be sweet humble, kind people and I think that is so important and so that definitely outweighs my desire to give them more. It’s easy to keep going in the name of things to do and get done, but the truth is the cleaning will be there, the laundry will be there, the oven will still work when you get back to do the cooking, the bathtub will work when you get to it to bathe the kids and life will go on. Those things will always be there. Taking the time to go do something with your kids, as inconvenient as it is at times, is worth it.

The joy this bike ride together gave us all was worth it, even if it meant a 8:30 pm dinner & later bedtimes, and led to super tired kids in the morning. It gave me a much needed break from ‘work’ and was so perfect (minus the gnats at sunset!)

I didn’t delete the pictures. I want them to have a favorite picture of me when they are older and to have pictures to show their kids while telling them stories about their childhood.

So TAKE THE PICTURES. Have people take a picture of you doing normal things when you’re not looking, with or without your kids. Keep them. Post them. Normalize normal moments even as, especially as, your kids get older. It’s not picture day every day. There are more days where we are just living life than days that we are “photo ready.” Those are the days when the real memories are made.

Originally posted on “Girl on a Glorious Journey” by Elsa M. Carlson.

Recently a friend and I realized the same guy from high school had contacted us both via Facebook messenger. Neither of us were friends with him or shared mutual friends. It was almost as though he scrolled through his friends list and just started messaging women he thought might be single. I wasn’t having any of it and felt really put off by a lot of things he said. My friend gave him a chance. She thought he was real even though they had nothing in common, completely different life goals, and she was trying to be open minded. Neither of us felt good about this experience and yet, there have been other men who think somehow we are just waiting around for someone to come along, like Rapunzel in her tower.

Here’s the thing: a strong single mom does not want or need to be saved. Even if she is living check to check, she doesn’t need you. Even if she wants a relationship, she will likely not put up with less than she deserves and please don’t think she doesn’t have options or that she’s starved for dates. There are lots of men who will date a single mom. Men with or without children date us. Men with advanced degrees, professionals, business owners, men with regular jobs, whatever, date us. And of course, the ones who think they’ll use us because they think we’ll settle. A strong single mom, just like a single woman without children, will always have those men who try to take advantage of her, but when kids are involved and you’ve been through some serious shit, your tolerance is much, much lower. And, we know what it feels like to put up with less than we deserve.

Single moms are not some kind of family in a box, some pre-fabricated family waiting for a man to find them, swoop in and suddenly just have this family. We don’t always want more kids and we certainly are not looking for a father for our children, so if you think because we are doing this on our own, think again. Our family is not incomplete.

We are not here to be claimed, bought or consumed, or to make us think we are not alright as we are. We are not damsels in distress, with a man-less life living in chaos.

Do not come to us, perfect strangers, seeking to create a connection by dropping me a DM, ignoring boundaries or the simple knowledge a relationship would not work. If you’re dropping in my DMs, likely you’re doing the same to other women. With zero standards, you just troll dating apps or social media, dropping lame attempts to start a conversation, to try to convince a woman to talk to you, knowing there are probably fundamental differences or distance or whatever. Do you think she’s going to uproot her kids and move for you? With parenting time moving more and more towards splitting time equally between both parents, gone are the days moms can just pack up and move.

What we do have is an awareness of what type of relationship we left before becoming a single woman with kids. We have built a life for ourselves and our kids that is peaceful, has more stability than before, we are likely driven to do better, make more money, and to give our kids the best life. We have huge goals, enjoy our independence and celebrate everything we have accomplished. We have reclaimed our magic and will not lose it again.

So while we may be perfectly happy being single, I’ve noticed a lot of my single mom friends are also open to finding a meaningful relationship, if and when it happens. Since this is the case, I have some tips for someone trying to date a single mom.

• Don’t be overly or ridiculously persistent. No means no. Why would you want to date a woman you had to break down and convince to give you a chance?
• Don’t mess with our peace. Don’t cause stress in our lives. Don’t over complicate things.
• Financially, we are okay, even if we count the days until payday. We have probably relied on a man at one point in our lives or in some way, and we don’t want that again and we won’t do that again.
• If we are done having kids, don’t try to change our minds about having your baby to make your dream of being a father a reality. Just because we have kids doesn’t mean we would want more and pushing the issue isn’t okay.
• If you’re goal is to get married and have kids, at least be authentic and go about it the right way. Be clear about your goals. Have some standards, get outside and meet someone organically. Don’t scroll through social media trying to find someone who might fall for your “hey beautiful” opener.
• If you’re almost 40 or more, why aren’t you married already if that is what you want? If you have several failed relationships maybe you’re the issue or how you’re going about it is the issue. Deal with this stuff before pursuing someone.
• If you have met someone, ask her when she’s available to get out and then remember what she’s told you. Plan a fun date or at least pick a great restaurant because she’s probably hired a sitter or she is giving you some of her precious, limited free time. There’s nothing worse than paying a sitter $15/hour or more to have a poorly planned night out. That doesn’t say to a woman that you value and understand what she has to do to make this work.

We know dating can be hard when you’re a single mom. Our time is limited and we know it requires patience, but if you really intend to date us, know we have big hearts, we’ve probably been hurt so we are going to be cautious, we want it to be enjoyable and if we meet someone that we want more time with, we will make it work. Just be authentic and don’t waste our time.

This year as Mother’s Day approaches, I’ve been thinking a lot about this journey of motherhood I’ve been on. Mine has included four live births, a d&c to save my own life, and two miscarriages. And those are just the babies. This has been one of forgiveness, grace, love, loss, anticipation and expectation, exhaustion, ease and difficulties, and lots of hope.

I dream of this bridge a lot. I never know where it’s going, why I’m on it, where it’s taking me or if I’ll make it. Sometimes it’s a ladder and I just keep climbing higher and higher, and when I’m not sure I can go any further, I turn back and there’s my Grandpa Cal, encouraging me to take one more step, telling me I’m going to be okay and I can do it. Today I’m back on that bridge.

This post was going to be a lot different until this thing happened earlier today so I deleted it all and started again. This man I’ve known for a few years, who knows I have raised my oldest son on my own, during a conversation about what my son will do after graduation, told me that his “dad did a good job raising him.” This seriously triggered me.

STOP RIGHT THERE. I felt this anger rise up from my belly and through my heart, landing as a lump in my throat. What the hell?! Who says that? NO! I did a good job raising him!

I decided I’m done being ashamed and hiding and pretending like this doesn’t happen ALL.THE.TIME, and as though my story is something to be ashamed of. I know if it happens to me, it happens to other women as well. I’ve been dealing with this now for 18+ years and I’m over it. This isn’t something I talk about much. I assume people just know I had to be young. They have no problem asking me if he sees his father. I’ve gotten really good at making things up or just dodging the question. Neither feels good, but I know people aren’t prepared for the truth, so I lie. I have carried this shame with me for so long now, I simply can’t any more because I realize, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Brené Brown says that, “shame needs three things to grow exponentially: secrecy, silence, and judgement.”

I have been living under the heaviness of these three things that the weight is now too heavy to carry. I feel fear interwoven with courage, strength and truth.

His ‘father’ should be in jail for what he did to me, yet I learned at a young age that the fucking patriarchy has a ridiculous amount of power on how things go, and that as an 18-year-old woman, trying to report a rape, I gave up right then and there at the police station. The police told me because I was young and that he was someone I knew, the court would throw it out; that the stress caused by me reporting the rape wasn’t worth it, and I should just move on with my life.

So I did. I moved on with my life. I’ve never complained about having become a young mom or that I carried this baby considering what happened. I loved him and perhaps my perception of this pregnancy was different because I was in a loving relationship when I was raped and we thought the baby was his. The possibility of conceiving while on your period is really low and after talking it over with the Ob, we decided to keep him. While that relationship didn’t last, of course the child did.

Even with the difficulties, I never complained about the sleepless nights or missing out on a ‘normal’ college experience. He was never a burden. He made me a mom, an identity that I identified with so deeply, I could never imagine my life without him. I stayed driven and determined to achieve my goals and prove everyone wrong. I completed a bachelor’s degree with a minor in four years. I worked close to full-time and had my son 100% of the time. We traveled and explored the world as much as we could. I provided him everything I could.

My first-born was a son I did not choose to conceive, but he is a child I chose, to keep and love and raise as best I could. Never in my life did I think people would have so many questions, opinions about my choices and a child I clearly loved, and that some people would try to use it to hurt me, to say I was “raped,” as though I was lying. Those things used to really bother me because who were they to try to make me feel bad about myself and my child?

I know my story is not truly unique. I know horrible, unfortunate things happen to women. I know it doesn’t matter how a child is brought into this world as a gauge of how much they will be loved or that their life is worth is less because they weren’t born into a two parent home. Motherhood is fucking hard enough; no woman should ever be shamed for how they became a mother whether their child is alive, with them, or not. It is raw, joyful, heart-wrenching, fulfilling and yet not, ugly, hard, beautiful, powerful, a complete roller coaster of emotions. It is endless love.

This is my 19th Mother’s Day. I’ve been a mother for my entire adult life. As part of my journey I’ve had to give myself so.much.grace. I have forgiven myself a million times. These kids I’ve brought into this world are so much more than I could ever have asked for, that even when I don’t know how I will do it another day, I do. For them, and for me because becoming a mom is the one thing I always knew I wanted to do and that I felt confident in, and even though I’m a mom like so many others out there, I’m really proud of the mom I am, of my conviction in how I want to raise my kids, and the woman I have become. The path so far has been like climbing mountain after mountain, slaying dragons and cutting back overgrown forests just to get here…I wouldn’t have it any other way because without the choices I’ve made, I wouldn’t have these kids or this life.