2013!

I breathe a sigh of.... relief, happiness, sadness, blessedness, nostalgia, etc. Mixed feelings. 2012 is over. As I get older, each year feels marked by higher highs and lower lows. That certainly rang true this past year. The bumps in the road felt bigger, yet when I wasn't hitting a bump, I was enjoying the hell out of life. 2012 consisted of a lot of really hard work: whirlwind college visits, SATs/ACTs, college applications, nannying, working at Banana Republic, IB, field hockey, etc.--all of these come along with this season of life. And yet, I still found a lot of time to play: my first prom, seeing Obama, going to three concerts, three plays, DC and Boston, going on three camping trips, countless picnics, beach trips, and spending some quality time with family and friends. 2012 wasn't perfect; in fact, it was a trying year and at times, I just had to tell myself, "you can do hard things." Much of this year, though, was very busy, very full of laughter and many happy memories were made. I can't remember if I made New Year's resolutions last year (I probably did and they probably went forgotten) but I have a few things this year that need working on. I'm optimistic and excited for the positive changes that will take place in 2013--the endings (like graduation), the beginnings (like starting college) and everything in between. I'm looking forward to more chaos, more laughter and more opportunities for growth.

2013 | Resolutions for a New Year

1. Be honest. If there's one thing that I've learned in 2013, it's that I have a tendency to reject, deny or bottle my emotions. If I'm angry with someone, I'll passive aggressively tell them that nothing is wrong and then still act slightly pissed. If I'm angry with myself, I will feel guilty for feeling that way but never address why it is that I'm feeling that way or what I can do to feel better. I need to work on not only addressing my emotions, but being honest about them, with others and with myself.










2. Let go. At times, I'm uptight, anal and grudge-holding. I find myself wasting time worrying and feeling anxious about things that will not matter in one year, yet alone one week or even a day. I want to learn to forgive and forget. I want to let go of grudges and let go of the weight that they bear.












3. Be kinder to your mother. She's my mama...my one and only and she, more than anyone else, deserves my kindness. On a daily basis, she gives to me without expecting something in return, and it's about time I start doing the same.












4. Stop worrying about what other people think.
I think this resolution is simple yet daunting. I cannot love anyone or let anyone love me without loving myself first. I deserve my love! And loving myself involves not caring what people think of the clothes I wear, the car I drive, the size of my house, how clean my room is or whether my hair is straight or a wild mane. Without even realizing it, I truly care too much what people think of me and that will not carry me well through life. Worrying about that is a waste of time, energy and esteem.









5. Show your love. I really really really love the people in my life. My family, my friends, my neighbors, my teachers, my mentors, etc.--they all make such an impact on me. This year, I want to not only tell them I love them but I want to show it to them--with phone calls, texts, compliments, laughs, random acts of kindness. For all they do, they deserve every ounce of love I can give in return.











6. Get fit. See number 4. I want to love myself and I think getting fit will help with that. I'm at this point in my life where I will never have a sport like field hockey to look forward to to help me get in shape. No coach will be yelling at me to sprint faster. It is in my hands. My body--for the rest of eternity--is in my hands. I know I can do it, it's just a question of whether I will.










7. Make an effort to see your father more. It's gotten to the point where I feel like I no longer know my dad, like really know him. I can slip through the end of my senior year without fixing much and then head right to college, further pushing him out of my life. Or, I can stop right here and think of how much I need my father in my life and I can do something about that. I can call him each week to set up a night for dinner or meet him for coffee on a Saturday or SOMETHING. I just need to see him more and I'll go from there.

I'll work at these and if they don't work out, there's always 2014. Here's to a new year!

All images via Pinterest. 

Poppy

I'm not mad right now. I'm intensely sad and hurt.

I'm sad because my dad and ex-step mom and her boyfriend had to put my sweet Poppy girl down today. She had internal bleeding, a tumor and blood clot in her head and she never recovered from her seizure yesterday. My dad texted me earlier to tell me. I was raking with Henry. I was in shock; sad but mostly in shock. I was driving to a friend's tonight when it started to sink in. She's gone. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks the entire way there. She was my first dog--the naughtiest by far, but also the most gentle. Her heart was huge. Her smile was visible. Her jet black coat was shiny after eating a dozen raw eggs one day. I'm missing her already.

I'm hurt because I never got to say goodbye to her. I used to go over and kiss her ears 100 times and then tell her I love her because I never did know if I'd be returning to that house. I never did, except for in June to feed her while my dad was gone. I'm absolutely positive my last words were "I love you," but that doesn't feel like enough. Why couldn't I be with her, holding her as she took her last breath? That's why I'm hurt. Because being with her was not even option. She was no longer my dog, apparently. She was somebody else's--three peoples actually--my dad's, ex-stepmom's and her boyfriend's. She was always my dad's, but she was most definitely not my ex-stepmom's and her boyfriend's. She was MINE. MY puppy. I grew up with her. She grew up with me. I feel betrayed and confused and hurt.

I'm not really sure where to go from here. Her death represents so much more than just the loss of my best girl--and I hate that. I want to only focus on that grief but it's forcing me to revisit feelings that I thought I had pushed away for a very long time. My armor is off for some time now but I will rebuild it slowly but surely.

Human

I'm not sure who's reading this little blog of mine. Perhaps complete strangers, happening upon these pages after random Google searches, perhaps people I know. Either way, I can see pageviews and while some posts feel like top-secret diary entries, part of me likes knowing that someone out there is reading the words I write. This is one of those posts where part of me hopes nobody ever sees it and the other part hopes the whole world reads it because what I feel, what's going on in my little world, are pure and real and raw. I'm so very human.

I'm not sure if my mom meant to tell me this way, or if she thought she had already told me, but she handed me a piece of paper (an application for financial aid) that contained the words "her (my) father is filing for bankruptcy." Anger. Fear. Embarrassment. I immediately got online and researched more about this concept that I'd only seen in movies or heard of when referring to Twinkies. More fear. Will he be living in a tent for the rest of his life? Google never answered that one for me. I'm still wondering. I just want this money shit to be over. I keep telling myself: these are not. your. problems. But they kind of are. I just have no control over them and I need to accept that and move on.

On another note, my Poppy girl, my very first and sweetest dog, is dying. Frequent seizures and couldn't get up tonight. I know it will be soon. Death is inevitable. It's just so damn hard. I just want to hold her and tell her I love her a million times and tell her that she made going over to that house bearable for so many years. I love her for that. I love her velvet black ears and her deep, throaty bark. I love the way she jumps like a spring when she hears the word "walk." And I hate, I fucking hate with every fiber of my being, the fact that I haven't seen her in MONTHS and probably will not see her again because I cannot get myself to go over there with those people there. That's vague, I know, but that issue deserves its own post. I just still can't get over the way things have turned out. When I sort some things out in my head, I'll be back here, hopefully with a more positive post. Thanks for reading.

it's all a little too much

I cried tonight. I cried because tomorrow is Friday and because the thought of one.more.day makes me cringe.  I cried because when I called work to explain that "I distinctly remember asking for Sunday off" and the response I got was that "That's a blackout day because it's Columbus weekend so you'll have to find someone to cover your shift" was not what I wanted to hear. I'm sick of missing out on what feels like everything just because of work. I'm sick of the feeling of loneliness that overtakes my body and mind when I'm up doing homework in the wee hours because goddammit, I procrastinated. I cried because I miss my sister and my brother and my dad. I cried because I no longer have a dentist because my dad never paid the bill. I cried because when I looked in the fridge this morning, there was next to nothing and I will go broke from buying school lunch every single day. I cried because I'm overtired and I'm overwhelmed and at the moment, life seems like a little too much to handle. And those last few tears I cried were because I'm surrounded by a lot of love and soon that love will win and I will be happy again.

on why this has been the best summer of my life

In August, I often take some time to reflect on my summer--the good, the bad and all that falls in between. And, upon reflection, I almost always declare that "this was the best summer of my life." But thinking back to all the summers that I can actually remember, I'm pretty sure this really has been my favorite summer. It has been a two month long celebration of all that is good in life. It feels like June was eons ago, yet I also feel like summer has flown by. It's overwhelming really, the gratefulness I feel for this life. I love the balance I had, between work and play. My work in July was play and my work in August was certainly not play, but it was balanced out by play. I made it out to Cliff Island this summer, where I relived my childhood; Chebeague, where I created eternal memories; and Peaks, where I explored new territory. I went camping three times (more this summer than in the past ten years)--on a beach, in the woods and in a field. I fell in love with the ocean all over again, with the earth beneath my feet and with the sun that browned my skin. I sat around campfires after barbecues and through laughter and tears, shared my heart with friends. I ate out way more than I should have and I biked around town aimlessly, because I could. I pushed aside my fears, worries and burdens and I lived big. I enjoyed myself this summer.

I ended this summer with a plethora of goodbyes. A few of my closest friends have left for great adventures. I miss them already, but know they are where they need to be at this stage in their life. The pessimist in me wonders if our promises of lifelong friendships will be kept, but my head tells me "of course you will keep them!" and my heart tells me that either way, I'm better for having known them.

I begin my senior year in just one day. I don't know whether to be horrified or overjoyed at how fast time seems to be flying. Wasn't I just a freshman yesterday? I'm mostly excited. This is a significant chapter of my life and I want to live it well. My main goal for this year though? Laughter. To quote Daughtry, "All that I'm after is a life full of laughter."

Alive

I'm feeling alive this summer, more than ever before. With each breath, I'm aware of my chest heaving up and down, and with each step, I feel the earth beneath my feet, a constant reminder of where I am grounded. I feel present, here. I paused everything for a minute today and felt instantly grateful for not feeling an ounce of physical pain. A major blessing in that moment--a life nearly free of physical pain. Without that cut, that burn, that break, that earache, I can focus on any mental and emotional weight. My burdens are small in the grand scheme--present but small--and for that I am lucky. If only I could remember that in times of great distress...my burdens are small.

a few minutes into the movie i look down. leg, lots of leg. contorted, smooshed, flattened on the table. cellulite. fat. i am fully aware of it for the rest of the film. on my mind, constantly. why? i think. how? i can't worry about that now. i must find the best angle, i think. i can't let them see all this. and before i know it, this comment comes, the one i don't need to hear. loud and clear. and i wait til they leave and i run to my bed and cry into my blanket and i wonder what the fuck is wrong with me and i go to bed.

part 2: finding out about her

"Daddy, what's this?," I asked, handing him a soft, long nightgown covered in some christmasy pattern. Before I even got a response, he was practically dragging me across his small apartment, through the computer room, through the kitchen and into the tiny bathroom that was lined with yellow linoleum floors.

I was the last to find out.

He sat me atop the toilet and pulled a chair in from the kitchen for himself. He was vague--"just the nightgown of a friend," he told me. "A girlfriend?" I asked. "Yes." I proceeded to ask more questions--all so naive--about her name, where she lived, if she had any animals, if I would ever meet her, etc. I wasn't angry, as I would be now. I was curious and perhaps a little confused. It had only been a matter of months since he'd moved out.

I went along with it, just as I had the separation, but I wondered, how could he love anyone other than mommy? Gone was any possibility of my parents getting back together. In a way, it offered me a sense of closure but at the same time, the hole in my heart grew. Nobody prepared me for that. It came at me like an impossible to catch fastball and instead of stretching my arm out to catch it, I let it hit my bare hand and drop to the ground.

All is well

So my little plan to "share my story" wasn't as feasible as I expected. I've got some more processing to do and then I'll be back at it. For now I'll just talk about the present. How I have eight days of school left, I do not know. I honestly didn't think I would make it through this year! When I step back for just a mere second, I see such beauty in this year. There was growth in so many ways so regardless of my grades or the gray hairs which I may or may not have gotten, I'd say this year has been a success. I've gained a greater appreciation for my family, for friendship, for my amazing education and for life, which has thrown so many wonderful opportunities my way. I feel like I can do anything, like my future is mine to create. I'm just so excited for life and for living and for each new beginning that will in some way shape who I am.

Life, bring it on.

Part I: Since when do we have family meetings?

Homework is calling, but this blank page is calling louder. I need to write, to share my story. I'm assuming nobody will find this (but clearly you found it if you are reading it now), but I just need to say: this isn't for you. This is for me. ALL for me. To figure out why I am who I am, to really get to know myself. I need to remember the past, and while it only contains 16 years, memory is selective. So this won't be easy, I know that. I'm not going to start at the very beginning. I don't have time for that! But if I recall correctly, childhood was grand--full, rich, happy.


Henry (11) and I (7) were in the midst of building one of our infamous couch cushion forts with the ratty ol' salmon colored couch. It was the weekend and it seemed like any other weekend day filled with play. "Henry and Sophie, we're having a family meeting, come sit down," Mom said calmly. A family meeting? Since when do we have family meetings? Henry and I sat Indian style on the floor while Mom and Dad sat on a couch in front of us. They were about to tell us something that no parent ever wants to tell their kids, and something no kid ever wants to hear. Mom started, "Your dad and I have something we need to tell you..." There was a long pause as I watched her bottom lip quiver and tears start rolling down her cheeks in slow motion. "Your Mom and I love you both and Lucy very much. However, we're getting divorced--separated. Taking a break from each other, spending time apart and it's not your fault," Dad finished. My little seven year old heart sank. Shock. Confusion. Did I hear them wrong? Separation? Is that really what they mean? I looked down at the floor during the next long pause. When I looked up, Mom's eyes were saying sorry and asking for forgiveness. Dad's eyes welled up with tears. I examined their faces, not knowing what the future held. Mom composed herself, "Dad's going to move out for a little while, and we'll see how things go." "So it might not be forever?," I asked. "Right, we'll see...," she said. I wanted her to say no, of course it won't be forever, this is just temporary, but that wasn't the response I got. I reassured my young self, told myself that it might not be forever, that my mommy and daddy's marriage hadn't totally gone down the drain, but I knew better. And at that, the meeting was over. I remember having more questions, but not being able to ask them, in fear of getting more answers I wasn't ready to hear. I didn't cry a single tear that day, but my soul felt crushed. That family meeting (which was missing a member of the family!) is the last memory I have of Mom and Dad together. It was forever, just as I had known deep down.