This is my new place.
A place for me to write about what is happening in my life. It’s an “anonymous” place where I can be honest and truthful. My issues of anonymity are not for myself, but for my children. My story is their story. They are young. But, they have a right to choose what story is told of theirs and how it’s told.
So, this will be my place to tell my story. The one that I feel, experience and have for me. These two loves are integral parts of me. As much a part of me as my very limbs and beating heart.
A few months ago, a friend on Facebook asked the question: “Who are you?” She clarified by asking “What do you define yourself as?”
I am me.
I am a body. I am bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. I am a wide smile and hearty laugh that is infectious.
I am a mother. This body was cut open to bring life into this world. This body opened wide and birthed after a c-section. I am a giver. I am consumed by love and adoration for these two children.
I am a lover. My husband is the love of my life and my highschool sweetheart. We have decades of memories. He makes me laugh until my sides hurt. He is my better half and fills each of my gaps. We are partners in life.
I am a writer. I find peace and solace in the written word. I appreciate the power of words. I find pleasure in manipulating the language to tell the stories I have.
I am a gardener. I worship spring and longingly await the opportunity to get dirt under my fingernails. I meditate in weeding and find solace in the monotony and predictability of accomplishment. Gardening is the counterpoint to the chaos that swirls around in my life.
I am an artist. I live in color and creativity. I frame life through the lens of a camera. I paint the colors I feel. I use the rainbow as an expression of mood and imagery.
I am a dreamer. I have hope. I believe in love and the healing power of laughter.
This is my space.