Sunday, September 13, 2015


I’m a chick who’s unashamed of her past. Bad or good. Better or worse. The experiences I’ve had, the people I’ve met, they’re the reason I am who I am now. They’ve shaped me, changed the way I think, taught me the value of appreciation.

Those are awesome occurrences, right? Clicking with someone as if you’re merely two pieces of a puzzle, predestined to connect and match and make a better, bigger picture? Finding that kind of common bond with another human being is not easy. But you know, without a doubt, when the connection happens. Suddenly you want them to succeed. You’re happy about everything great that arrives at their life’s door. Their success, it seems, is yours, and you’re their biggest cheerleader. To be the fan-girl rooting from the corner of their ring comes as involuntarily as breathing.

And then something changes. You can’t really pinpoint what this mysterious something is, but it’s as real as the hand attached to your arm. The friendship feels different, as if the hefty, sturdy garment it once was has become frayed and underappreciated. Either you don’t talk anymore, or you’re the one doing all the talking. The puzzle pieces have split in two.

What now?

I wish I had the answer. As an author, I tend to use life’s experiences as ammunition for a story. But I’ve never had a chink this deep in my armor. Is it repairable? Probably. Will it take time? Doubtless. When you’re no longer part of someone’s life in which you’ve invested a magnanimous amount of time and effort, to walk away feels like cannonballs are chained to both feet.

I share this with you, because I do believe in using the past to better the person you are today; the person you stand to become. Resentment is wasteful. Hate is inconceivable. George Orwell once said, “Happiness can exist only in acceptance,” and as optimists on a path to success, it’s my opinion we must try our best to… how does the other saying go? Accept the things we cannot change, have the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

The writer in me feels compelled to add, however, that regardless of what we can and cannot change, we can always show up at the page.

And that’s a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Peace, Love, and Junior Mints,

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