Adventures Under My Pirate Flag

Adventures of a Little Pirate in a Big World

Sometimes It’s Lonely in the Middle

You guys! Soo much going on all the time! So many children, so many pieces of clothing, so many papers, and projects, and so many of all the things! I feel like I am in a constant shuffle of everything. I never thought my life would look like this. I never thought I would look like this. I never thought I would love this.

I’m married now (WAHOO!) He’s just…the culmination of everything I ever wanted to love in life- I can’t completely describe it. My tiny human, she’s the greatest thing I ever did, have ever seen, or had the honor to take part in. She’s PERFECT. My step kids are such a chaotic handful of joy- they literally drive me crazy when they are home and I miss them like crazy when they are gone. Riddle that paradigm for me!

I told you all that my love of others will always be my downfall. Most often, because I forget about myself. My kiddos (all but tiny tot,) go to school all day. I clean, prep dinner, run the baby to her activities, do the laundry, buy stuff for their projects and then sit back and wonder-

Holy Crap! Did I brush my teeth this morning?

Luckily for me, I almost always have coffee breath ūüôā

My husband is.. well not perfect. He has stinky gym clothes for me to wash, leaves cups lying around for me to find and doesn’t follow all of my type A tendencies because he can’t read my mind! But he comes home with cupcakes and flowers and Rae Dunn pieces, so for those indiscretions he is forgiven.

My kiddos- they are FOUR DIFFERENT HUMAN BEINGS. You cannot parent them all the same. You cannot prep them all the same lunch. But they sure as heck get the same dinner. One child is tiny and thinks she is bigger than the rest. One is big and thinks acting like the baby will get attention. One is a super divalicious drama queen and we can’t get the other to wear matching shoes or brush her hair. They even joke that one of them always has to be cranky or being a stinker- they can’t all be good at once. Tell me about it…

Have you noticed there are no details about me, or my life among this word purge? Where did I go among all of this? I am in this- DEEP. I’m not always sure I can see the other side. The side where social coffee exists and my friends pop over to say hi. My life is full to the brim with goodness, but it can be lonely here in the middle of this season. I’m able to write because my baby is napping. The house is silent, devoid of the neighbors landscapers. Soon she will be up and want to play little people and that is AMAZING. Some days I’d really like someone to talk to who knows more words than ‘This’ ‘(h)Elp” and ‘Mulk.’ Someone I can talk about the crazy scheming on Gossip Girl (yes I’m watching it all again.) Someone I can talk to about my clothes, a good margarita, or how my husband is annoying me (I really do love him I swear lol.) Instead I’ll wind up crying silently in the laundry room or my closet after someone’s meltdown because I don’t have people who understand this kind of chaos. The blended family bedlam. The new & very young mayhem of separate household families who don’t communicate. ¬†My husband gives me a huge hug, tells me he loves and appreciates me, and we go right back into it. Do you know why? One day, these kiddos will be big. They will be grown, and they will have needed all of these THINGS I did for them to help them get there. Including the struggles where I don’t give them what they want but instead what they need and I get told I’m mean.

Some days, I want to run into a few different stores, mosey down the breakables aisle and just LOOK at things I might want to purchase. Right now, we go to the store and it is harder than picking out groceries with a pack of famished Racoons. Even the baby throws random items in the cart or tries to kamikaze out of it!

You guys, I couldn’t even PEE yesterday without a full blown battle escalating over the mail key! And as much as they drive me bonkey in the moment- I love them. My life wouldn’t be the same without any of it.

I come from a history of social jobs where I saw a lot of different people daily. People were my job. People are still my job- but it is totally different. I just think people under estimate how lonely it can be for us stay at home moms when we don’t have family helping or friends close by. If you can- pop in a say hello. Drop a card on their doorstep. Send a Mom a text that just says HI, you’re doing a great job! Seasons change, and these Mama’s need that boost to raise tiny humans into great adults!

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Thoughts from a Middle Class White Girl

I am who you think I am. I like Taylor Swift songs. I drink Starbucks coffee. I drive an American made vehicle and I like “pumpkin spice everything,” at the holidays. I am a registered Republican.

I am also nothing like you think I am. The father of my child and love is Hispanic. Some of my dearest friends are members of the LGBT community. My first husband had a black father and  white mother. I got arrested for the first time when I was about 23. I have a post-graduate education- I work as a waitress. I go to church every Sunday. I question my path with God daily. I take a piece of Buddhism, Quaker, Judaism, all to heart and question. I have friends that are Teachers and friends that are Models. I have friends that smoke pot and people who have been sober for decades.

Don’t dare to tell me that America is going to find a President that represents me.

I am not a racist. I also do not believe in undeserved handouts- how about some hand ups.

I am not a bigot. I actually solved an argument this morning between my 5 & 6-year-old step kids because they both thought they were right. I explained to them we do not always have to agree on who is right, but we do have to listen and be respectful.

I am not anti-women’s rights. However, I will not agree with late-term abortion, even if that means giving my own life. I would gladly choose to lose my life over my child’s.

I am not a war monger. However, I do not believe we should ‘accidentally’ release state secrets only to have our service men slaughtered and not take responsibility for our actions.

I am not a homophobic person.  I also do not believe the government has a right to tell churches and businesses who they need to serve. I do not agree that you should discriminate based on this issue, but it is a private business or entities choice who they serve. In fact, many churches will not allow me to get married there because I already have a child outside of marriage and I am divorced. I will not throw a fit, I will find someone inclusive of me and lift them up rather than calling those out who are not.

I do not think we should pack up illegal immigrants and ship them back, demolishing families and leaving them for ruin. I do think they need to get their papers in order and pay dues like immigrants that came to this country. You should feel a sense of pride to be here in America. You should WANT to pay taxes to contribute to our country and education system. You should WANT to understand our foundations and values. We are a team.

Someone asked last night, what do we say to our children about this person who says these offensive things, who acts like a bully, etc.

I respond with, what do we tell our children when they are losing a sport, school election, or board game? You shake hands, say good game, and thank the people who cheered for you. You do not retreat to your office and tell everyone to go home. (Hilary supporters- you deserved better from her last night!)

What do we tell our kids? I ask, what would you tell the child or spouse whose husband and father was killed because she ‘didn’t know,’ that information was confidential?

Do we tell the child whose mother died during child-birth, “It should have been you? We could have saved your mother.” Absolutely not.

Do we tell the person who fought their way through their education, earned the high paying position- we are going to take most of what you EARNED because this person over here doesn’t want to work.

Do I think it is ok for someone to make lewd remarks about women? No. Have 90% of the people I know made lewd comments? Yup. That doesn’t make them ‘not’ my friends anymore.

If you really want to be represented- think locally. Elect local officials who will fight for your voice in congress. That is where the real battles are fought. In fact, join your local community boards. Go to the PTO meeting. Bring a life group from your church into your home and raise your kiddos up right. If you want to bring about change and be represented in this world- life your life as a light, be an example. Lift people UP in your ways and stop putting people down or calling people out for thinking differently.

If you want to bring out the good, the change, the hope- Put your FAITH where your mouth is and simply Live the life you speak about.

I voted for Donald Trump. If that makes you hate me- the media and political parties have won.

I voted for Donald Trump. I am still a great person.


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It’s all in how you read it-

I’ll warn you now. This one is all about babies. Babies and breastfeeding. Babies, breastfeeding, and society. I try to steer away from writing about ‘parenting,’ type things here, but this one I need to get out there.

I will give you the low down and wonder what you think. However, it is all in how you read it.

I gave birth to the most amazingly adorable, active, spunky, (did I mention adorable,) little girl on March 3rd. Again- She’s adorable! I had many many drugs and interventions to assure this didn’t make me hate her for a split second- in fact, I’d give birth again versus being pregnant- ¬†I hated being pregnant (there- I said it!)

Baby and I bonded right away. She was laid on my stomach within a second. She was in my arms first. She was on the boob food as soon as they told me too. I asked for help- they showed me, they said we were in good shape. So I fed. Whenever she asked to eat- I fed. It was blisteringly painful sometimes. You can seriously ask her Dad, he saw the scabs. However, I fed. Day 4 of her life she was introduced to a bottle with formula. From there on, she has been combination fed from nursing, formula, and pumped milk in a bottle (or sometimes pumped & formula mixed in a bottle.)

Bring on your judgement. You know you’ve got it ready to go- finger on the ‘click to comment’ button.

Let me tell it to you a different way.

All of the above information is 100% true. I’ll just fill in some blanks for you.

I breastfed my daughter in the hospital. I kept the log and they checked it. My daughter was not eating enough. She was sleeping too long between feeding and this was apparently my error. I tried to explain how she would fall asleep after feeding for 5 minutes. I would work to wake her only for her to eat again for another 5 and fall asleep- until I could not force her to wake and eat. This continued in the hospital- the first time I cried was¬†from frustration when I felt I wasn’t being heard or helped; instead being scolded in my first hours of motherhood. I was not going to FORCE my boob down her throat and they weren’t giving me a reason she might not be eating other than it being my fault. Oh the joys of motherhood!

They told us she was ‘slightly’ jaundice but they were sending us home. I tried to continue feeding my little nugget. Home is where my once blushing, cheery, wide-eyed little girl eventually became lethargic, grey, and lifeless over the next two days. I knew with every fiber in my body something was wrong. I struggled with trying to get her to eat; blaming myself over and over. Frustrated, crying, exhausted and feeling like a failure- I juggled the idea of giving her formula but never ‘gave in.’

We ended up in the emergency room for 10 hours while my sweet new baby was poked, prodded, and pumped full of IV fluids- and formula. You see, my little girl’s ‘slight jaundice,’ was more severe than they thought. She became severely dehydrated, hence our ending up back in the ER. Jaundice can also be exacerbated by breast milk.

When she was clear I tried to nurse again- naturally she does not like having to ‘work’ for her food. Beyond that, no one told me what to do while she wasn’t nursing (pump, pump pump!) We both get frustrated trying to nurse, but we do it. You also better believe she gets a bottle when she wants one.

Perhaps if they had done something about her jaundice earlier we would not have ended up here. Perhaps I would still be having the same issues. I do know for certain my daughter is not going hungry.

I’m just not going to stress about it anymore. That is no good for either of us.

My daughter is happy and healthy. Despite what anyone may feel- that is all that matters. Please stop making mothers feel guilty for how they feed their child; be it breast or bottle. Please know we are all just doing our best to survive.

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Her life is decided by the choices of others

A year ago I would have never told you that I would want to spend my days holding my daughter while she sleeps and just staring at her.

A year ago I would have never told you I would spend hours watching her expressions, holding her tiny hand, and examining every move she makes.

A year ago, I never wold have told you that sitting next to him- holding her, is the most peaceful place in my universe.

I also could never tell you these would be the some of most painful days of my life.

There isn’t a guide to having your first child with someone who won’t be sharing that experience with you. You are not experiencing parenthood for the first time together. They are not experiencing their first sleepless nights, first diaper changes, first smiles and snuggles…so you can feel very alone.¬†hardthings

My first weeks of parenthood have looked a lot like my months of pregnancy. Extreme highs and extreme lows. (No, I’m not talking hormones here.) While I was pregnant there were many logistical complications. Families, friends, work, finances, nothing was left unaffected by my being pregnant. I felt a lot of shame and fear about the situation- even though I never should have felt this way. We were happy about our baby, why couldn’t everyone else be? Now that she is here, some days are not much different.

I have to hear about how she looks like everyone. Everyone except me apparently. Her sisters’ looks, her brother’s expressions, her grandmother’s eyes, the family’s names, her dad’s hair…. Except- they are her half siblings. They are my blue eyes. The name was a choice of ours not influenced by family. And yes, she has her dad’s hair. Please remember, she is MY daughter too. Of course she will look like her half siblings to an extent. She looks like her father and they share a father. But I am her mother. I spent the months nurturing and caring for her with my own body- please remember this as you discredit me and remove me from the genetic make up of my own flesh.

You call it first child syndrome and get upset with me for caring for her with veracity. Newsflash- she is MY first child. My defacto, bonus kids are my family as well- but this one- I made this one. I get to raise her and nurture her from the very second she entered this world. It might not look the way you want it to. Her siblings have different rules because I didn’t make them. I might not hand her over at your every whim or listen to your parenting advice, but I am doing my damn best. Can you please just give me my sweet time with this one before I have to go back to sharing my time 4 ways?

She won’t be afforded the same whims and latitude of behavior as her brother and sisters. We make exceptions for them. We run a strictly scheduled life for them. We consistently revolve around her half siblings and this is the way her life will be and she never asked for that. So for now, while she is little, I will revolve around her. I will protect her. I will make her special. I will make sure she knows she is mine, and she is my priority. It doesn’t mean I love her half siblings any less than before. After all, I took them into my heart by choice.

Being the half sibling will always come with drawbacks that she never signed up for. She will always be only ‘part’ family. She will always have to schedule her life around them. My daughter will get to celebrate Christmas based on their parenting schedule. Summer vacations, spring break, even her birthday party will be defined by her siblings. She never asked for that. Forgive me for wanting my daughter to feel as special as possible from the minute she was born. The family she joins is not an easy one to jump into. Her life will be commanded by other people’s choices from here out. Don’t blame me for protecting her- that is what makes me her mother.


Judgement is a side effect of Pregnancy

Exhaustion. Extreme, debilitating, and total exhaustion. For about the entire month of July. Weight gain-obviously. Dizziness attributed to worsened anemia. Occasional case of the crazies due to hormones. These are some of my symptoms during my eight months of pregnancy so far.

Cravings for cheese cake (not joking.) Exhaustion from taking care of me. Growth in patience, from taking care of me. These are the symptoms of my pregnancy for the father and my love.

Apparently, society developed a side effect from my being pregnant as well- Judgement. It was shocking how much judgement I received in the last 8 months from everyone. Family, friends, total strangers; the opinions just keep coming! I share this with you, not because I care, but because I think society in general should understand what this looks like for a pregnant woman.

So, I have this tiny alien vs. predator-type creature growing inside of MY body! It is no longer just mine- I have to share it. In fact, that is not a reality either. I am now a hostage in my own body being commanded by this adorable, wiggly, amazing, creature. Let us examine the ways.

I can no longer eat or drink the things I like. We grow up being told to eat our vegetables, don’t eat that, make sure you drink water, follow the food pyramid. Then we become adults and it is an unprecedented free-for-all where I can have cake for breakfast if I want. Not when you are pregnant. No diet soda, limited caffeine, excessive water, organic fruits and vegetables due to pesticides, no deli meat, no sushi, med well and up cooked meat, no unpasteurized cheese…..are you getting the idea?

You have to pee- All…the…time. Ask my boyfriend. We have to plan every trip based on which clean public restrooms are available for my use. Sometimes the baby grabs on to my bladder out of spite, I’m convinced.

I have pregnancy induced narcolepsy (that’s how it feels at lease.) I will be out running around, getting life done, and all of a sudden is like the poppy fields from Wizard of Oz!

I have a baby foot in my rib cage. I have a torn abdominal muscle from the stretching. I cannot go to three spin classes a day. I cannot fit into my clothes. These are simple ways in which my life is not my own. Let me tell you how society makes this so much better on us women who are brewing life.

Alcohol & Caffeine judgement. “Should you be having that?” Listen, I understand the side effects of TOO MUCH caffeine on a fetus. However, if you deny me my decaf latte or a good old fashioned coca cola after a night of being kicked in the ribs thus denying any form of sleep- it may end badly for you. Same as when I want a glass of wine. I’m not shooting tequila and dancing on a bar until 2 am. Being pregnant is stressful. Being pregnant and adjusting to life with three minions under the age of 9, new in-laws, limitations, life changes, is STRESSFUL. Oh, and the added hormones really help your anxiety. Again, try to tell me not to drink my half a glass of wine. Bonus- since you don’t drink often, you really only need a couple of sips to take the edge off.¬†Doctors have said it is okay, articles, studies, other mothers, so I choose to have my small dose.

Are you sure you’re pregnant? Where is the baby? You’re so tiny, ¬†I was huge. Don’t worry- you’ll get bigger. I know I shouldn’t complain about people asking me why I am so skinny and acting shocked that I am as far along as I am. I submit to you- is it EVER a good idea to discuss a woman’s appearance/weight with her. No. I understand my pregnancy may look different from¬†yours. My doctor says I am healthy. I was brought to tears on multiple occasions because strangers and family/friends alike would judge, implying that I was unhealthy and intentionally¬†harming¬†my baby. Even my man said¬†I wasn’t eating enough. I would eat until I was almost sick. Your stomach gets pushed into your ribs and shrinks. I could only fit so much! Leave the discussion of weight to the professionals. This goes for workouts as well. My doctor says I can- so back off. I also think being pregnant is awful. I understand it ends in such an amazing result- but I hate it. I won’t lie

I’m not married. I’m not engaged. I was dating my man for roughly 5 months when I found out I was pregnant. I freaked the eff out! My parents want to know when I’m¬†getting married. Strangers look at my hand. There is an endless barrage of explaining my name, his name, and baby’s name. I don’t want to get married because I am pregnant. ¬†I am not too young to take responsibility for this amazing addition. I chose to keep my unplanned child so if you don’t¬†like it¬†you do¬†not need to be involved. I have had many bouts of shame and sadness which already made me feel like a bad mother. My life choices are bringing judgement against an innocent baby who didn’t ask to be brought into this world. Don’t judge it. Don’t punish it because you don’t like my choice. I missed out on a lot of happiness I should have felt because I was busy defending my life and my child.

Also, naming tiny humans is hard. Unfortunately, we have to do it. I try not to share our ideas too much because it is not your choice. Please don’t judge parent’s for their choice in names. Or birthing methods, or feeding choices, or diaper choices, eating habits, home lives, emotional fits, fatigue, style of dress, ANYTHING! Being pregnant is hard enough and every pregnancy is different. Maybe next time, don’t rub that person’s belly or ask so many questions. Just tell her she is beautiful and blessed and wish her luck! mmmkkay

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2015 in review

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 1,600 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 27 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

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It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just that I’m not like you

I told you. My life is different now. I’m happy now. My life doesn’t look like yours anymore.

Truth is, I thank God for that every morning.

I don’t have a hangover. I don’t have regrets. I’m not afraid of which version of you will wake up next to me.
I wake up, roll over, and smile because the person I love is lying next to me. Waiting for me to wake so he can swoop his arms around me and hold me without disturbing me.

I go about my day, randomly smiling because I know he is thinking about me. I’m not afraid to check my texts.

I can suggest somewhere for dinner and a quiet walk to the coffee shop and that is ok. He will walk next to me and be happy just to hold my hand. We don’t need to be in a loud bar surrounded by everyone who isn’t me.

He wasn’t the only one who holed me into this world. He was not the only one who watched me live a lie. So forgive me if I am not eager to relive those memories with you. You think when you break up with a partner you can keep some mutual friends. You cannot.
There are his friends. There are your friends. Never the two shall meet.

There is a reason it was a ‘mutual’ kinship. A place, an activity, another person, something that linked your life with that person to them. So now that the life is over, the link is severed.

Forgive me if I don’t rush to hang myself with that severed rope. I’m sorry I didn’t call. Don’t take it personally if I don’t rush to your side.

I’m not that person anymore. I’m not that person and I couldn’t be happier about that.

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The feeling of ‘Normal’

I haven’t stopped changing and growing for the last few months of my life. It is amazing how you can feel so put together, educated, and involved until you realize… You are not any of those things.

Speaking in a ‘matter of fact,’ tone, I used to live in a pretentious, partying part of town, only worrying about myself, and trying to figure out how to transition out of a 20-something party person into the adult I wanted to be. Now I live in the suburbs, spend half my mornings packing lunches, and have a full house with adult responsibilities.

When most people I know hear about my transition, they are in awe.

That’s a lot to take on
That stresses me out
I couldn’t do what you do

Truth is, my life feels normal now. THIS is what feels right to me. THAT was a struggle for me, a stress, and I couldn’t do it.

I went from regulating adult beverage consumption to regulating snack time.

From breaking laws to breaking pick up circle rules.

I went from being perpetually rundown and tired to….. Ok that didn’t change.

Truth is, it is a hard transition. It is stressful. However, it is full. Full of smiles. Full of hugs. Full of love.

I look back at the way I struggled over the last few years and it is no wonder. I was not walking the path I was supposed to be on. I was dancing all around it, but refused to just follow the signs. Life is funny that way. You can think you have it all together. You have everything you need. And then BAM. Divorce, injury, unemployment, death, depression, illness, anything can happen. So what do we do? We solve the problem, but we continue walking the same path. BAM. Another problem to solve. It will continue this way, like skiing off the path dodging trees, until we align with the universal plan that was made for us.

So life is perfect, care free, and blissful now right? I didn’t say that.

What I do know is fights are less toxic. Hugs and kisses are given freely and often. I randomly smile just thinking about his smile. He brings me cupcakes just because. I look forward to lightening the load of his day just a little.
Now I have someone who let’s me rest my feet on him even when I’m grumpy. Someone to hold onto when I’m afraid of thunder. A man who tells me I’m being a brat, but loves me anyway.
Most importantly, I have a partner in life.

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I don’t know what to call it…

Every now and then, things happen in our lives. People happen. Moments happen. We have no idea how to explain them. Kismet, fate, meant to be,set change, pivotal points, plot twist, defining moments…. what do we call them?

Every now and then, someone sees us. Someone catches the light in our eyes just right. They see the darkness in our smile at just the right angle. Every now and again, someone can see the freckles you try so hard to cover up. Once in a blue moon, a person gets to see past those walls and stare straight at you. Are they your soul mate? Do they love you? Is it a kindred spirit, a long lost twin, a cosmic conjoining? ¬†I don’t know what to call it.

It is like eyes to a train wreck, we cannot look away. We are drawn to this entity like it has been missing our whole life, even if we never knew it existed until just now. You just know when you know. But how do you know if all you have ever known was the unknown. How can you see it when all you have is blind faith? We search our whole lives for this moment, but when it comes, we shy away.

Life is not like the romantic comedies we grew up with, or even the ¬†dark thrillers we paint life out to be. Those stories last up to two hours; lives last decades. We live, lifetime after lifetime for, what seems like, forever to those of us who are living. So where did we learn to want something we can’t have, until we can have it; then we don’t want it? Perhaps we just don’t know what to do with it?

I can see this vision in my head of what I think my life should be like, but it is always in fluid motion. No one has ever stayed in one place, so my vision is ever evolving. It is like I am standing there waiting for my life to bend to me. Or maybe I am waiting to catch up to my life. That is the problem with moments, we never known which end of it we are on. It is a terrifying idea to never know who is coming or going. Maybe this time they will stand still with you. It is horrifying to be blind to whether you are supposed to stand as still as possible, or start running like hell to catch up.

I don’t know what to call it…..

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A Party Saved My Life

They always tell you not to be the party girl. They tell you that a party will not keep you warm at night.

Luckily for me, because of this party- I saved my own life.

I started going to Party on a Bike at MIC about a year and a half ago. Shortly before Brynne passed away. I had invited her to glow yoga, but she was unable to go because of ¬†a work function. After an amazing yoga session I was trying my hand at spin class, because who wouldn’t want to trick themselves into working out in this way? It was hard, but man was it exhilarating. The classes were so loud you couldn’t hear your own thoughts or feel your own pain.

I have chipped cartilage in my knee, it wasn’t always the easiest thing for me to do. I learned my limits. Sometimes I probably used them as a crutch. However, with each class I could feel my legs getting stronger. These 50 minutes of making my body stronger were mine. At first it was always about weight loss and loving my body again. Seeing what I could really do. One day I broke, but not in the way you would expect.

I remember the bike I was on. I remember the moment. The instructor told us to let it all out. To get angry. To re-center ourselves and our minds. In this moment, the tears started flowing. The anger flooded through my body. I pushed my body harder than I had in years. I told myself I was angry at her for leaving him. I was angry with her and it was ok. I was allowed to feel the way that I did, but I had to let it out. The best part is the class is dark, so I really could allow myself to feel and not be ashamed. I finished that workout and never looked back. I left it all on that bike.

I continued going, not only to feel my body gaining strength, but really to allow my emotions out. I fight through them for 50 minutes and then put back on my fighter face and continued with my life. So many times I worked through a therapy session on that bike. Fighting all night with my guy? I’d grind it out at a 6am class. My parents were unhappy with decisions I was making- I’d sprint in a dirty Wednesday class until my heart felt like it would explode. Getting ready for another stressful weekend at work: Friday mornings allowed me to close my eyes and refocus my thoughts. Most recently, these classes have allowed me to work through the failures I felt in losing my relationship. To work through the weakness and brokenness I felt in my heart. I have never felt stronger in my life.

You see, these 50 minute sessions saved my life. A party saved my life.

I have been able to work through some very tough situations and decisions on a spin bike. It is the one thing I get to do for me and only for me. Damn do I love it. I’ll brag a little and say I can now pull through an entire session without backing off, (most of the time! ūüôā ¬†Every time I could feel my body getting stronger, I knew my mind had gained strides. I remember who I was. How amazing I am. The things I can truly accomplish. I found myself again. I found my strength.

All it takes is finding that one thing that allows you to find you. We all have the strength to save ourselves, we just need a little push sometimes.

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