Hey there. I’m a West Coast transplant based in North Carolina who, not all that long ago, was living out her mortal days in the landlocked Midwest … that is, until my entire world turned upside down, inside out, and brought me back to the West Coast (Oregon to be specific) where I lived survived for two somewhat painful years.

I had the world at my feet and was living large. Only thing was, I wasn’t happy. Not really. Not entirely. I was content. But happy? No. 

And so … without getting into too many details here—because the details are in my posts—I can only tell you that during those two somewhat painful years, I got my first tattoo, had major surgery, lost my best friend, got divorced, moved cross country, lost my job, made a few unforgivable mistakes … and then … I got a better job, learned to bestow the grace of forgiveness and acceptance on myself, found my person and fell in love with a man who treats me like I’m the last bit of light left to shine in this often-dark world we live in. Oh, and I got another tattoo.

So, yea, it was a lot.

As for the “about me” stuff, in an effort to keep this as concise as possible, I’ll skip through the whole happy childhood, never wanted for anything blah, blah, blah bullshit and just get right to the good shit … so here you go.

I was an avid runner, but years of abuse have taken their toll and I now have metal in my left knee and both feet so I runnnnnnnn, no longer. But I do yoga, and yes, I am a Peloton junkie. I am, what I like to call, an “almost” recovered health fanatic. When I was in grade school, my parents came up with some far-from-brilliant idea to follow Nathan Pritikin’s absurdly restrictive (and disgusting to a sixth grader) diet and to this day, I vividly remember being forced to eat a bunch of very unpalatable crap. And so, in order to combat their “weirdness” I learned to carefully place food—if you want to call it that—into my mouth and then very stealth-like, expel it into my hand, and onto the floor. My deceptive behavior worked for a while, and served me well until my mother vacuumed and discovered my hidden pile of the aforementioned very unpalatable crap.

So … for years, I dealt with a “sometimes manageable” eating disorder, and at other times, dealt with a debilitating disease that hindered my collegiate athletic career and coaxed my ego through a life drenched with mediocrity. But I managed. Barely. But I managed. 

Don’t get me wrong, I had moments of triumph … moments where the world literally laid at my feet. I had three children who own the very breath I breathe and throughout the years have had some personal success with my writing career. But. I have also suffered with feelings of inadequacy and at times have wondered if I am worthy of happiness.

“You will face your greatest opposition when you are closest to your biggest miracle.” ~ Shannon L. Alder

Flash forward to now. It was not easy to get here. As “dumb” as this may sound, being happy isn’t always as easy as some make it sound. Being happy is a choice. Difficulties are inevitable. But when it comes right down to it, we all deserve to live our life and we all have the right to be the absolute best version of ourselves that one can be. And for me, revamping the way I live, the way I love, the way I eat, has all been part of that. Yet, sometimes the ugly head of my struggles pays me a visit and sometimes, I back myself into corners and have to fight my way out; all of these things, I write about on my blog.

And for now … that’s all I got. As for what the future holds or how my story continues, that I’m not sure of. But for the first time in my life, I can honestly say that whatever it holds, I will embrace it, and I will love my fate.

Amour fati.