the day i get married.

i am filled with love, hope and high spirit. with an amazing man.

i can't allow this rite of passage to occur without honoring something that most don't ever talk about. i wouldn't, ever, be the person that i am today without the help of my therapist.

with initial questions of terrible anxiety, she has fostered me through dating disasters, beastly bosses, losing the person i was closest to, being taken out of this world for 24 hours, and then ultimately admitted to return.

however it is that you learn about yourself, trust that it's the most important thing that you can do. always.

1,000 miles.

seems even further when you don't know what to do with your feelings.

i found out that you left all of us, through your best friend's post. i wish that i could tell you that you didn't do anything wrong and that you made everyone feel so special.

including me.

your name is synonymous with savannah, georgia and you will always be remembered by so so many.

including me.

#fear

i know that we can't have good, without evil.

but there is something that absolutely TERRIFIES me. my parents taught my brothers and i the appropriate 'don't talk to strangers', 'check the halloween candy', etc., and that we have to live our lives, but i am 37 years old and i still don't know what to do with feelings that i have when people are stolen from everything.

in first grade i remember, waiting for the bus across the street from our house, when an older man drove by and waved at me. this was the first time i ever experienced the pit-in-the-stomach that something just didn't feel 'right.' fortunately, the bus immediately came.

later, while vacationing with our uncle, a man looking at my brother said 'let's steal the kid' to his friend. i picked him up and RAN SO FAST to the rest of the group. i looked out the back window of the car allthewayhome.

maybe i fear too much. maybe i can be dramatic. but maybe some people are beyond dangerous assholes because this keeps happening. adam walsh. melissa benoit. elizabeth smart. natalie holloway. madeline mccann. jonbenet. even the most recent, vanessa marcotte.

whether taken from the comfort of their own bed or jogging in a 1pm afternoon, picketed fence neighborhood, my heart is broken. because we are all of them.

pride.

is really something that is within you.

i grew up in a home with a family that told me that they loved me.  better yet, they showed me. at times, i felt like that sequin dress on the clearance rack. but they never made me feel that way. ever. now, i have amazing friends that i know must love me. they still text me back.

my struggles are mine. yours are yours. let's meet in the middle and acknowledge. appreciate. and accept. challenge yourself. love yourself. be good to yourself.

however you celebrate your pride, keep your head held high. don't be something. be someONE.

it's where you hang your heart.

but when you can't physically go home, you desperately reach for the comfort, acceptance and tradition that provides warmth under your lapel.

i've been made fun of since the 1900s for my "obsession" with the golden girls. i even saw the originals on saturday nights in the 80's. it reminds me of 'home.' when i was safe, surrounded by people that unconditionally loved me, and when i didn't have to worry about anything. except dodgeball in high school gym.  obviously.

but anyway, these four ladies, connected me with growing up, my family, my first boyfriend ever, so many conversations and a sense of comfort that could never be replaced. innocence.

plus, in gayland, everyone's trying to figure out which one YOU are. XO

this dog.

it’s debatable who actually saved who.

quin, short for mom’s maiden name quinlan, is an everyday christmas morning gift kind-of-gift. i could never have imagined the most fun daily adventures and the deepest level of love and companionship.

anddd let’s be honest, the everyday coaxing of “tinkles and poopydoops.”

happiest holidays!!! from our little love.

never judge a book by it's cover.

enough time has passed, that i feel i have collected my thoughts. more importantly, i have the ability to acknowledge all that i have learned.

on may 18, 2014 my new boyfriend and i were walking home after dinner/drinks with my coworkers. we were held up. we were robbed. and i was pistol-whipped. unconscious for almost 24 hours. TBI.

i woke up in a room of loved-ones, that perpetually makes me teary-eyed. they comforted me. they advocated for me. they loved me.

career immediately on the breaks, focus became a slew of therapies that i knew nothing about. simple things became firsts. remembering three objects. standing on one foot. managing my own schedule. holding conversation. waitingroomafterwaitingroom. typing. texting. and taking the T.

until i was able to graduate therapies, get back to work full time, and ultimately live again, i never thought i was impaired. people don’t think that there is anything wrong with themselves. they lack an awareness that has a verrrrrrrrrry long road ahead, with an equal measure of pot holes, bikers and city traffic. learn as much as you can about yourself. have patience. have empathy. have human strength.

clichés or not, ‘life is short.’ ‘regret nothing.’ ‘don’t burn your bridges.’ ‘actions speak louder than words.’ 'time will tell.' ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’

i am living proof of all of these. and more.

‘live!’