I am a Badass! Most days.

I have always felt like a “big” girl. I was tallest in my class until 7th grade. I remember how meeting a boy taller than me was like looking at a unicorn as I walked down the hall. On top of that, God Bless my mama, she always used to say, ” You’re not fat. You’re big boned.” Which isn’t a thing by the way. I am however part of a long line of very robust Croatian women. Dark brown eyes, dark brown hair, sometimes an olive complexion, and generous birthing hips. Those birthing hips have had many a compliment from older gentleman throughout the years. By the way, not a good come on fellas.

For as long as I can remember I felt awkward in my skin. I struggled with acne. I hated long hair. I never wore makeup. I couldn’t find my style of clothes. As I got older I just decided what I liked and didn’t like. I tried out makeup. I grew my hair out. I lost weight. Gained weight. Then pregnancy really messed with my body too!

I have a man that loves me. He fell in love with me at my largest weight. He doesn’t make me feel bad or unattractive. I just hit 40 and my body started revolting. My knees and ankles are not friendly. My clothes don’t quite fit the way I remember. My body is sore, when I climb stairs or dance for more than 10 mintues.

Which is why my Love and I have decided to challenge each other to be fit. Let me tell you, I am competitive. For the next 30 days we are going to try to do 100 bicycle kicks a day and crunches. I am going to destroy him. On top of that hopefully get more fit.

Kevin, I am coming for you. I am going to fit into that bodycon dress in a month and blow your mind.

Sleep. So important. I recently experienced insomnia. I was up for 36 hours. I had a really off weekend due to job stress.

I don’t recommend it at 40 years of age not getting at least a solid 7 hours sleep. I was groggy, slow, irritable, and full of remorse I didn’t figure out how to sleep.

Having two kids to take care of made it that much harder to call it quits for the day.

Last night I crashed at about 10pm. It was wonderful and tough to get out of bed this morning. True story, you can’t catch up on sleep missed during the night.

I can’t remember a time in my life when music wasn’t playing in the car, in my house, or in my head. I love music. I especially love a good dance beat. I love singing songs, feeling the emotion of the lyrics, and getting lost in the magic of notes.

You’d think I’d play an instrument, but my one year of piano lessons taught me how to read music and know the notes. I never took to playing.

My favorite artist is, Whitney Houston. Gosh, I had her CD titled Whitney and I listened to it over and over. I’d definitely be a POP troll in the movie, TROLLS.

I spent two years every Saturday when I finally lived on my own singing karaoke at a bar that doesn’t exist anymore in Burlington called, Bellows. Shout out to my karaoke friend, Rick!

A good song can make anyone happy. So grab your dancing shoes! Just like Pink! I’m never not going to dance again.

Anna Farris sang these lyrics in a movie, “forgiveness is more than saying sorry.” I couldn’t agree more…

I’m not the nicest person when I’m mad. I guess who is a nice person when mad? The biggest offense for me is lying. What is your trigger?

For men it could be as simple as calling them cowardly. For girls we are so catty. We will burn red at the littlest transgressions.

As a child I hated my sisters tagging along wherever I went. Nothing was mine. I had to share everything. Before you think I’m blowing that out of proportion, I’ll give you examples.

I shared a room with my sisters and a bed till I was 12 years old. My toys were their toys, my clothes became their clothes, and punishment for anything they did wrong, because I was the oldest and I should have stopped them.

I got my own room when I was 12. However I wasn’t allowed to call it my room. I wasn’t allowed to tell my younger sisters to keep out. They certainly could tell me to stay out of the joint room they shared.

I’ve been bitter about that my whole life. Can you tell? I know it taught me how to work well with others, share, be patient, and only speak up when necessary. I have little to no care or understanding of, “that’s mine.”

This has been hard in intimate relationships. I never claim much for myself. I’ll share anything they ask for in my space and life.

Which is really hard, because most people were able to have a sense of, this is s mine and I don’t have to share it. I can keep this for myself and you’ll have to deal. I get upset a lot by this and I know it’s not “normal” to feel that way. I start to wonder why people are so selfish. But are they?

That doesn’t compare to lying though on my scale of anger. If you ask my kids they’ll tell you, “Mom hates liars.” I just don’t understand why people lie. There are tactful ways to tell people truths.

Lies ruin relationships, friendships, family dynamics, and cause distrust. Now you might think, I’m not lying I’m protecting them, their feelings, or whatever. But I pick up on lies, white lies, lies of omission, and it makes me upset.

I’ve had a lot of times in life where I’ve forgiven people for lying. Some who did it so much, I should have never taken them back into my life.

Forgiveness from me is easy. I don’t want to be mad at anyone. Especially those I love. So if I forgive you, I hope to God you realize your mistake and don’t do it again.

I was a pretty shy kid. Those who know me now would probably be puzzled by that statement. I’m very outgoing at social events, making conversation easily, and not looking like a wallflower.

As a child I didn’t get socialized outside my immediate family till I was in kindergarten. Kindergarten was easy for me most days. I’d go to school from 8:30-12:30, come home and play with my younger sisters. I learned school lessons quickly and didn’t really need to do anything with classmates besides have good manners.

The first grade was much more difficult. School was from 8:30-3:30. I still learned lessons quickly, but I had anxiety all day. My first week of first grade was spent crying at my desk till I fell asleep. The idea of leaving my mom and siblings for the whole day and having no friends to play with at recess was terrifying. I remember Clifford the Big Red Dog was at my desk for me to hold onto that first week, but he mostly got covered in tears.

I eventually learned how to cope with my anxiety, at least enough to stop crying as I arrived at class each day. Making friends was more difficult after being the “girl who always cries.”

I focused on being a good student. I tried to play recess games that other kids enjoyed. I never really bonded with any one classmate till I hit third grade.

My elementary late years, middle school, and high school days were full of various cliques, different types of female friends, no dating, and focusing on managing my crazy home life. My home was not always a safe space as I approached my early teen years.

I learned at home how to read moods. Mostly to fly under the radar of my Dad, who would be loving one day and look for a reason to physically harm you the next.

This translated into my friendships at school. I couldn’t just trust anyone to know what my home life was like. My oldest friend and I met in 8th grade and still are bonded by the things we know about each other for better or worse.

It took me a long time after high school to know what I wanted in friendships. At first I thought you were supposed to have one good friend, but as a working adult you need more than just one friend or ally.

You can have work friends. Friends you only hang out with because of a hobby you enjoy together. Friends made, because of your kids. Strategic friendships in business and social networking. Honestly, the list goes on and on.

Once I realized all the above, I still was very selective about my friend circle. I only surround myself with individuals in any walk of life who challenge me to be a better version of myself. Who inspire me with their strength, intelligence, heart, and faith.

I give these people my time. They are worth my time. They are worth texting, calling, arranging outings, crying with, laughing with, and offering my assistance to at any moment.

I don’t expect them to do the same for me. Expecting something in return isn’t what the gift of friendship is about.

Beyond my wildest dreams of being the former shy girl, these friends I have surrounded myself with have brought out the best in me. I know how amazing, smart, fun, quirky, stubborn, irritating, and loved I am. I know these individuals would and have done all the things I do for them and sometimes they think it’s not enough.

True friends are not easy to make. I’m blessed!

I would challenge you to look at your friend circle. Do these people hang out with you only when things are good and run when things get heavy? Do they say one thing to your face, but another behind your back? Do they strive to better themselves the way you do? Can you be real with them without fear of repercussion? If you make a mistake do they forgive easily or make you jump through hoops? Would you trust your children with them? Would you leave them alone in your home or tell them where your hide-a-key is outside?

Sometimes we outgrow the people in our lives that have always been there. It doesn’t make you a bad person. People evolve and grow, learn and change. That is the amazing part of being human. The people you surround yourself with hold you up or tear you down. Which would you want around you?

OK, I love to write. I have loved writing since I was a kid. I enjoyed essays, short stories, opinion papers, and just sitting and writing the alphabet over and over again. Writing has always given me a sense of peace. I would write out my name over and over again when I would feel anxiety. Some people doodle or draw, but I like to pour out my thoughts onto paper.

Over the last three years, I have been a divorced, single mother of two amazing kids, Lucas (10) and Imogen (4). I started raising them on my own when Imogen was 14 months old. I kicked my husband out of the house due to his excessive drinking and he’d finally after almost 7 years decided to be drunk and use non-traditional discipline methods on our son, Mother’s Day 2020. I don’t really want to get into that whole saga right now. I think at some point I will share what happened that day, but for today, let’s keep it more about what I want to do here.

I really want to share my story about triumphs, how I have overcome my childhood, relationship faults, and things I have learned about myself as a mother, wife, ex-wife, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend through my 40 years of life on this planet. How to forgive, but maybe not forget. How to learn and grow, instead of fall into a funk of negativity.

I hope as I write you laugh with me, have ah-ha! moments with me, get mad with me, happy with me, and realize you aren’t alone, you aren’t always the problem, and you deserve everything you want.