Washed in the Blood and covered in the ink

 On my morning scroll of Facebook I saw a close up picture of a woman from behind, her back on display wearing a strappy top.  She was fully tattooed.  At first glance I noticed the workmanship and talent it took to make such a big piece of art, wondered how many hours she sat through to accomplish her vision.  I thought it had been posted by the woman herself but upon reading the caption I realized this pic had been taken by a cowardly stranger and posted publicly for ridicule.  I’m acquainted with many of the  commenters, all “good Christian folks”  from Small Town, America.  Many have their church affiliation tagged proudly in their bios.  

      As a person who is both washed in the blood and covered in the ink, I’d like to offer my perspective.  Tattoos are a personal collection of expensive, permanent art.  Large pieces take multiple visits, precise planning and a lot of commitment. It’s a  decision that affects no one but the person whose skin the ink is in yet many feel compelled to comment on.

      Simple self expression can be a barrier when looking for a church home.  I worried about my tattoos when I first  visited my new church.  Thankfully I found a group of believers who could see my desire to get closer to God and not focus on my floral decorations.  I know who Jesus spent His time minerstering to.  I feel like today many of His rowdy young disciples may have sported a sleeve or two.  

     Some of the comments I’ve gotten over the years: “Why did you do that to yourself?” “I could never do that.” and my favorite “Please tell me you did that to yourself when you were younger and didn’t know any better.”.  The last one made me laugh.  I told the elderly lady who was so concerned with my skin that I could never do something as radical as have face tattoos.  The irony sailed right over her head as she looked at me from beneath her tattooed brows. 

      Tattoos can be fun trinkets and tiny mementos hidden on an ankle but they are also a way to mark life, death, trauma and overcoming hardships.  It’s an evolving art form that has been noted as far back as the human record extends. The tools, ink and artistry have developed to allow detailed expression and imagery that was impossible even 50 short years ago.

    Women’s bodies are not something to consume or be approved of by society at large.  I made a practice while raising my kids that we only comment on someone else’s body if it’s a five second issue.  Alerting someone that they have food in their teeth, an untied shoe or a zipper that needs attention is a kindness.  Telling  a person that you don’t like their body, their skin or appearance is a judgement.  I wish more adults knew this.  

     It saddens me that people waste time focusing on the outside of humans instead of caring about the contents of their hearts.    One year ago I met a beautiful woman while out shopping and we chatted.  She’s in her 80’s with a young and vibrant spirit. She invited me to her church and told me right where she’d be. Every Sunday 9 a.m., up front on the left.  I’m happy to say that’s where I’ve been sitting since.  

     If you’re decorated like me and curious about finding a group of believers that truly cares about the contents of your heart and the health of your spirit…. Come sit by me, every Sunday 9 o’clock, up front on the left.  If you find yourself compelled to sneak pics of strangers and make snarky remarks….. Come sit by me, every Sunday, up front on the left.  Let’s get you introduced to Jesus’ love.  It doesn’t sting with condemnation, He loves all of us the same and when you seek Him you’ll find a depth of peace that allows you to move through the world with much less hate.   Til then, bless your heart and I’ll be praying for you.

It’s so much more than mascara

                                   

      In a flurry of emails, texts and message from Y corporate yesterday it was confirmed that our flagship product, Touch Spray Foundation, is being pulled from the market due to production and manufacturing issues.  News travel fast, I’ve been talking with my core Tribe, we are all in shock and pretty upset.  we know this means we all lose over 50% of our sales.  After the economy the past three years, all of our sales have been cut in half each year just from the way life is been going. 

    

      My core group, the one that I go to conventions with,  My Tribe, they will be lifelong friends but I am still struggling knowing that I’m not gonna get to see them anymore it’s hard to get to a convention that you don’t have product to sell to fund your trip with I’m not blaming any of them and I hope they’re not blaming me, this has just been a really hard few years watching something that I worked so hard to build and grow and bring others into with me slip away.  I’m really going to miss this. 

     I know it’s just a direct sales company, that’s not what I’m going to miss. I’m going to miss the Tribe that I’ve built. We were all just trying to earn trips and pretty little shiny charms on a bracelets but ended up becoming family. Younique does it right.  I earned my first trip with them within two months of joining, but didn’t realize it til I got an email asking me to pick a date to come tour the new headquarters in Utah.  The first time I visited corporate I got to tour our brand new facilities go through and see how manufacturing shipping is all done. I worked out and had a tai chi lesson with the corporate leader of health and fitness. I had a make up lesson by a beautiful and talented artist who shared techniques and how to get the most from our products.  It was my first time traveling alone since I had become a mother. There were gifts left on my pillow every night in our hotel.  Little journals, ink pens, a T-shirt,  Younique has treated me like family by sending  cards in the mail, giving us gifts to mark accomplishments. It’s no wonder I felt loved, because those are all the ways that I show love to my own children. Tate’s charm bracelet is full of gymnastics and now soccer charms. Mine is full of goals that my friends helped me reach, charms from each state and country my Tribes visits.  

    More than any recognition or financial success Younique has helped me start my healing journey from an assault that happened 20 years ago this August on my birthday. I had stopped at a party I’d been invited to by a friend at the diner i started waiting table at in Phoenix.  I thought I’d  have a drink with my new coworkers because Brad was working late and  I didn’t want to spend my first birthday away from all my friends family in Louisiana alone.  I was given a laced drink and my life forever changed with what happened for the next 36 hours with three men from the diner I was waitressing at.  Brad had  reported  me missing after driving calling and looking for me when I didn’t make it home. Everything after that changed in me forever.  Sadly it changed our marriage forever too. 

    Younique helped to start healing me.  I stood on stage and received my Black Status award in front of 10,000 women on my 40th birthday. Recovery from sexual assault is possible. I’m living proof.  My son and daughter got to see their mom’s biggest professional accomplishment and be right there with me.  The broken young wife that struggled with shame and guilt from a violent assault kept going….. I had a failed suicide attempt in the weeks following my assault.  If I could go back and sit with my 24 year old self I would let her cry, I’d hold her and whisper over and over that it’s going to get better.   In my darkest hour I would have never believed I would survive to stand in a ball gown, being presented  a Tiffany’s necklace in front of my husband and children, then celebrate with 40 of my closest friends. I would hold the young wife I was then and tell her   “You don’t know it now, in your pain, while you’re trying to end your life, but you will grow life soon.  Tiffany I know you think your body will never quit hurting, you can’t sleep because you feel their hands on you as you drift off…. Keep holding on.  You will be holding a new baby boy in two years.  You will become stronger than any nightmare. When you grow to protect your child, you’ll become strong enough to protect yourself.  You’ll be so strong again, just hold on a little longer.”

     In my darkest moment, I would have not been able to imagine the stark contrast of the brighter future that awaited me because I just  held on. On stage is what I imagine Tate felt every time she won a gold medal. It was the best birthday I’ve ever had. I finally got to have a good one. My husband, my kids and 40 women that I got to know, train and love celebrated with me for me on my 40th.  This night was God. Nothing else could explain getting to have all of this on my actual birthday.  All the years I spent crying and pleading with god to not feel alone and relive that night…. God sent so many friends that on my 40th birth I was never alone, not even to go to the bathroom. I couldn’t see God in my life so he sent an army, he sent My Tribe to make me finally feel safe and loved on my birthday again.    

                            

    I became completely dependent on and driven by our work trips. I’ve earned seven incentive trips all over the world in the eight years I’ve been with Younique, I’ve even got to speak at a couple of conferences in Atlanta and here in Texas.  Booking a flight, picking up friends at the airport and heading off to a girls weekend  was my drug of choice.  We all got to learn and laugh together while  having a break from our daily lives. This will will forever be the best part of my life. Getting to be in the room with other mom as they just decompress laugh and cut up. I finally got to have fun, we all did. We actually acted like our kids while on vacation. We had an Indian leg wrestling tournament in our hotel room on one of our last trips. We all laughed so hard that joy leaked  from the corners of our eyes. Every year when that video pops up on my Facebook memories, I laugh and I give myself a few minutes to sit and remember just how much fun My Tribe has had.  I don’t know if the women who signed up under me know how much I love them.  They have each saved my life- God sent them to call, check-in, become my friends any time I felt alone.  When I had no light of my own they loaned me theirs and walked with me til I could find my way again.

                             

      I would go and be one of the older ladies at all of our conferences, the younger ladies having adapted to social media and technology more than a lot of us Gen X moms.  I am fiercely proud of the “old Broads” that have joined me. I see their names on on Top Ten Leaderboards out of 50,000 women… My Tribe worked harder and dominated. They outshined all while driving minivans, working full time, being room moms.  

       We all just met and decided to be friends, because we wanted the same things: a little bit of spending money,  a way to have a minute where we got to concentrate on ourselves.    For me, it was getting dressed every morning and talking to my friends on my Facebook lives. I got to know so many people by sharing my life while experimenting with putting make up on.  I realize it started to heal me. In many ways I began to have self-worth every time a new friend reached out and asked if I could help her feel prettier.  I’ll never stop helping women feel beautiful, that is a life’s mission of mine, aside from the makeup.

      I’ve helped direct women to our Haven Retreat for adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse. I began to get comfortable sharing information and telling parents how to protect their children by having plain and simple conversations to make sure they stayed safe. As my confidence grew I shared more.  People that may not buy make up have messaged me over the years to say thank you.   I helped them be able to talk to their child about boundaries, this is why sharing my story matters.  I need sharing I began to heal  a lot of my own past with an assault that happened when I was 24.

    It’s some times overwhelming, but I felt like I needed to share because I wanted other women to heal in the way that I had. I still don’t talk openly about the assault and prefer to not answer questions, its hard to visit in my mind.  But in sharing I’ve been messaged in the past three years by over 35 women disclosing their own assaults to me.  Some reached out to get information on what kind of therapy has helped me(EMDR). A few have made it to the Haven retreat to begin their healing journey. Sharing my story matters.

       I’ve connected with other leaders in Younique and we’ve been each other’s touch point over the past several years encouraging each other to continue seeking healing and recovery. I was able to hit my biggest career goals while getting help to stop drinking. After the assault I numbed with alcohol to be able to go to sleep, be in groups, and always to black out so I could forget my birthday. 

     Instead of feeling ousted or set apart when I quit drinking, My Tribe folded their arms around me.  They stayed with me every second of my first convention sober.  They didn’t let me go anywhere by myself when I was struggling with the social anxiety of being around thousands of people.   They literally held my hand as I learned to do life without wine. 

   Younique was and is the safest place I’ve ever been.  A company based on protecting children, run by mama bears.  It was built by a brother and sister, that wanted to provide a way to fund a healing program for adult who’ve been sexually molested as children. There couldn’t have been a more perfect place for me to wind up.  I signed up for a multi level marketing company because my friend sent me a used mascara. I wanted to go on a trip like she just got back from.  I didn’t know she was saving my life by telling me “I think you’d be great at doing what I do”.  At that moment she was my hope dealer and I’m forever grateful.  

      Working with bunch a of moms, slinging mascara has been one of the greatest joys of my life. We really did run the world for a few years. I will hold on now, just like I have had to learn to do in the past.  I go in and out of having faith in a God that I felt abandoned me on my 24th birthday.   I’m learning that he didn’t abandon me, in my darkest hours he was preparing My Tribe. I’m hard to reach, so it’s taken an  army of women to Uplift, Empower and Validate me until I could see God in my life again.  My Great Couselor couldn’t reach me  in church, I struggle in large groups and can’t hear God I’m being hyper vigilant.  The Creator literally made me a Haven and knew it had to be unique- all female- for me to be able to recover .  My Holy Spirit called in the right women to love me through til I could love myself again.

     We are taught to “Find your Why?”  Why do you do what you do? I thought I sold makeup to make money but I was wrong.  I do this to lead others to heal.  I share so parents can become comfortable talking to their kids, to point them to the Saprea.org site for tools to make talking easier.  The Spray Foundation my be retiring, but mascara saved my life.  A little tube of makeup has saved the  lives of many other survivors who are struggling. I will keep sharing, keeping telling women “I think you would be great at doing what I do”.  I’ll keep reaching out and maybe I’ll be someone else’s hope dealer because it has always been SO much more than mascara. 

Easy Like Sunday Morning

I always wished I was I was good wife, but I was really short tempered. 

       I wanted to use all my paints and be an artist but I was always running behind and couldn’t find time. 

       I’ve always worked out but couldn’t get down to my goal weight, would get frustrated and binge. I’d go off the rails for a couple weeks and then try to starve myself thin again when nothing fit. 

      Now I do most of things I always wanted. I didn’t find more time in the day, I’m able to wake up earlier. I realized I only paint for me.   It doesn’t have to be museum quality or even make sense.  As long as the 🎨 makes me happy then it’s successful.   My temper is still short but I’ve taken one huge stumbling block out of the way. Said goodbye to alcohol in 2018. Amazing that its absence is being filled in with things like Sunday morning fishing and watercolor dates with Brad.

     Stopping drinking took a lot of work for me. I used wine as a social crutch since my first sip back in the 90’s. I was totally functional. No DUI’s. Never even pulled over. Booze only ever made me less able to handle my own anxiety. I’m learning to accept that big groups are always gonna unsettle me, and that’s ok! 

     I’m so thankful to the moms who hosted Tate’s group yesterday for all the Homecoming festivities. Thanks for letting me contribute some snacks and makeup. My girl got to have an amazing night with her friends. I got to stop by and take pics then go grab pizza with Big Papa.  No booze required. 

       No hangover this morning, just sunshine, red fish and all the things I used to think weren’t possible for me when I was over indulging in Pinot Grigio.

 

The View from Behind

 The view from behind. 

    I love taking pics from my perspective on our trips. This year my view changed. Brad leads us in crowds, through cities and as a family. We have this larger than life man walking up front carving a path.  The safest place to be in behind his massive shoulders. When Turner and Tate grew too big to carry it was natural to put them behind Brad and take the caboose position. He leads, I keep my eyes on his shoulders and guard the two in between us. 

      Getting to know Turner and Tate as adults is one of the biggest pleasures of my life. They are both so intelligent, athletic, caring and each have their own brands of humor that impress and delight  me. 

       Tate is joy personified. She’s light and fun, always moving and dancing. Her sense of humor and ability to captivate with her charm will serve her well.  She’s beautiful with out a stitch of makeup, silly and to many people’s surprise is an academic powerhouse.  Listening to her practice her Spanish, how she’s been an interpreter for me has made my heart flutter.  She is the kind of confident I wish I could be.  Her heart is so big and her eyes don’t see people’s weaknesses. Tate lives up to being my bringer of joy.  Earlier this year when a panic attack hit me so hard that I couldn’t move or speak she reacted as an adult.  My tiny daughter held my hand and talked to me until I could get my breathing and heart rate under control.  It was the first time I had to lean on her as an equal and she was beyond gracious and caring.  She was cool, calm and collected. I saw her in the future that she has planed in that moment.  She embodied all the traits that will make her successful as a medical practitioner one day. 

     This is the trip that my position in line changed. Instead of grouping Turner in the middle, my six foot tall, almost grown man of a son gently placed his hand on my back and moved me to the middle.  I looked up at him and said OK I trust you.  It’s not just walking in a different order, it was him growing into the man he is meant to be. He has moved me to the inside of the sidewalk away from traffic, kept watchful eyes on his sister and I.  Turner works alongside Brad as a powerful sentinel guarding our little family in crowds, emergencies or just daily life.  I placed my hand on the crook of my baby boy’s arm and let him step into the space I usually hold as protector.  Turner is adventurous in a way that few people can be. To truly experience life you have to have an assured nature. I get lost in my own anxiety and worries. My son knows his abilities, works on himself tirelessly to become the most powerful version of himself he can be. His energy is so much like his father’s.  Quiet power, a depth of understanding of his surroundings and ability to read a room that makes everyone around him feel more at ease.  His focus and intensity on his goals makes my heart swell. 

       Being mindful, going to therapy to help me get out of my head and into my life gave me the gift of seeing the moment our positions in line changed.  It wasn’t a simple rearranging, it was allowing my son to step up into being a young man.  I’ve been overwhelmed and awed by how loved I feel by my husband and kids. I didn’t know that many survivors of sexual abuse/assault also struggle with feeling connected.  I internalized that what happened to me was bad, therefore I must be bad.  I’ve always felt like a fraud or fake.  I woke up every day thinking that Brad would figure it out. Surely he would know I was a bad person because I felt bad and empty on the inside.  I’ve worried that I would ruin my kids from the minute I knew I was pregnant with them. I read every parenting book I could, I wanted to do right by them.  I’ve failed all three in many ways over the years. I tried to be a good mom while being in internal chaos. I drank too long and far too much in hopes of quieting the ghosts that walk through my mind daily.  I’ve had an incredibly quick temper,  been a perfectionist and unable to relax even at home.  I went to therapy as a last ditch effort to get some relief from myself.  I didn’t know that I would end up opening up to my family. I thought by pretending I was perfect that I was protecting them, instead I was keeping them at arms length. I didn’t know that by keeping my past and my struggles bottled up I was also keeping myself from being able to take in the love they have always offered me. 

      I cried early this morning in our hotel room. Brad and I were quietly talking about how amazing yesterday was with the kids and all the adventures.  I told him this is the best trip of my life.  I let go of controlling every aspect. I was up front with all of them about the triggers I have in crowds and unfamiliar surroundings.  It wasn’t a weight for them to carry like I always believed it would be.  They acknowledged my worries, assured me that we are all here to keep each other safe and have helped  me enjoy the trip right along side them.  I was IN every moment yesterday, not in my head. I told Brad this morning that I don’t know why sharing with them made it possible to receive their love and finally feel it in my heart.  He said it’s because I no longer have to work so hard to put up a false front of perfection or confidence. My family knows me and loves me anyway.  All of my darkest secrets that I have judged and blamed myself for lost all their power when brought into the light of love. 

      I have to write it all down to fully understand and process it. I share my healing journey because others who shared theirs gave me hope until I was ready to start the work for myself.  I’m learning that sharing your struggles doesn’t mean that you are going to cause the same hurt you are feeling to the ones you love.  For me, it’s let me be a much more honest and vulnerable person.  The love I now take in and deeply feel was always there.  I was unable to access it while I was lost in shame and guilt.   Therapy helped me let go of the shame and know that I wasn’t guilty for what happened.  Now I feel the love I always hoped for. 

    If you or someone you love is suffering from the after effects of sexual abuse or assault please visit The Younique Foundation page to find resources to help start your healing journey.  If you survived, the worst is over now it’s tome to start living.  Life can be so beautiful, I know you can’t imagine it yet. Borrow my belief that you can heal- I know it’s possible because I’m living  proof. 

Making muffins

         If you had ever told me that I would sit in my kitchen on a Monday morning crying and full of gratitude I would never have believed you.   Monday’s were always just the start of the next week. Hopeful but with pressure for perfection. If I only cleaned enough, cooked enough, overworked myself to prove to my family that I deserved their love…….. then it could be a good week.  My happiness depended on total perfection, otherwise I didn’t do enough to be loveable. 

      Today I sit after cooking the weeks’ breakfasts but it’s different.  I enjoyed cooking and and packing up  Brad’s  food because I focused on how much he loves me while preparing it. 

      I loved mixing up muffins to bake for our kids. I smiled and thought of what an amazing cook my mother in law is. She bakes these muffins for my kids when we visit, they like them just like Brad did when he was little. She cares for our kids and that love has flowed all the way across decades and miles.  I enjoyed cooking because a really good mom showed me how to turn breakfast into an expression of care. Thank you Mrs Kathy for all of your examples of loving kindness. 

       I have texted friends to ask for help this week- something that I would have judged myself for before. Reaching out today was still awkward and scary…… but my friends are really amazing people.  They way I’ve been held up and loved even when I feel really  broken has surprised and started to heal me. It’s ok to struggle. It’s not ok to struggle alone. Now I understand that. 

      Healing can look exactly the same as any other day. What is different is how I feel in my daily life. This morning I cooked and cleaned not because I was putting pressure on myself to do enough to be worthy of love.  This morning I enjoyed menial tasks and let my heart focus on who I was wanting to care for by doing them. 

       The muffins get made either way. Now I just feel deep joy and an unexpected happiness on a random Monday. Spontaneous love and joy- not because I earned it- but because I am worthy of love no matter if I bake muffins or not. 💜

Now it’s real

 Trigger Warning- Sexual Assault. 

***This is really personal but I NEEDED to know how other survivors live and cope. So here’s how I stayed alive and came back into my body and right mind this morning. If you are a survivor reading this, you are not alone and with help life can get so much better. If you need help on where to find support message me. I can try to help point you in a safe direction ***

      Today’s work out challenged me more mentally than anything.  I was laying on a bench doing dumbbell pullovers. Nothing fancy. I had 30 pounds over head and two men walked up about 4 feet away from my toes. Talking, loud deep voices- just normal gym stuff. They didn’t disrespect my personal space at all. To any onlooker it was just a normal morning. 

     Laying down on the bench I froze, completely paralyzed. I couldn’t move the weight. I couldn’t set the dumbbell down. The sides of my vision started closing in and going black. I knew I was starting to panic. Shallow breath and my heart sent sparks of terror through my body. I was trapped and unable to help myself sit up. 

        The thing about “dealing with” your trauma is that you fully know and understand what you’ve lived through. This feeling has happened in almost every gym I’ve gone to. Any time I’m laying down and feel vulnerable. If I hear or see a strange male in my periphery, if they  walk too close,  I am sent into internal chaos.  My mind shapes present day into the scene I floated above, detached from my body while two men assaulted me. 

        Before getting help to recognize the signs of a flashback I would start to feel all of this and launch into fight or flight. I’ve walked out of gyms mid workout, doubled the weight I was lifting in hopes of feeling stronger or bitten someone’s head off for literally nothing.  Never understanding why I had a sudden wash of panic. Blamed myself for just being weak and crazy, then had to fight through the confusion the rest of the day. The gym is supposed to be my happy place but I’ve spent a fair amount of time running away from shadows of things that happened a long time ago all while trying to workout. 

    Now with a LOT of help I’m learning to slow my mind down and notice when these pictures and anxiety take over. I looked for Papa and mouthed the words “I’m not ok.”  I wish I could have just set the weight down and acted normal.  He didn’t embarrass me. Didn’t make me feel stupid, which is what I fear when I reach out for help. He simply took the weight from my hand so I didn’t drop it on my face. Helped me sit up and asked if we needed to leave. He stayed calm for me when I couldn’t. 

    Instead of completely freezing and going mute I was able talk to him and get grounded. 

I have to talk out loud and tell myself:

“I’m safe now. The room/people around me made me have a sudden memory of the men that raped me.  I lived through that already and it’s over.  It is NOT happening again even though inside my chest and abdomen feel like it is.  This is just stored up fear. It’s not from today. This fear is not from right now. It’s from a long time ago and from horrible people. I didn’t deserve that and I am stronger now. This is a feeling- all feelings have a beginning, middle and end.  I can just take deep breaths and know that I’m here, safe and this will pass. I am ok now. No one is allowed to touch me with out my permission. “

      I may have to walk myself through that speech a couple times but the jolt of adrenaline that makes my heart race and my Apple Watch ask if I’m on a treadmill workout- all that will pass if I allow it. 

     Not dealing with all of this has about killed me.  None of this is easy to share about.  I’ve been told by family that it’s all in the past and I should just forget about it, move on because it was so long ago.  Survivors pretend for years that it didn’t happen. I pretended it didn’t happen for years and I almost lost my life while trying to live in denial. It’s embarrassing, makes me feel so gross and covered in shame. What if someone knows that happened to me? But I own it now. It happened to me, I was raped.  

       I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t go anywhere alone, I wasn’t around strangers, I didn’t break the safety rules, I wasn’t dressed provocative. Even following all the rules we are taught I was still a victim. Not my fault, no longer my shame. 

    I’m effing tough as nails for not dying during a long, violent assault. I’m thankful now that I was able to carry this anxiety and panic for so many years without taking my own life. 

      When I say it has been a struggle, it has been greater than any obstacle I could imagine to just keep living while trying to “look happy” on the outside. I can’t force the happy facade anymore. Now I simply deal with what each day brings.  Some are wonderful and calm, some are frustrating, some days are just days and that’s OK too. 

    Now I see the panic for what it is, allow it and know there can be peace and safety on the other side. I have reactions in other places that are more tied to my childhood events and those are harder to control for right now.  But it’s the same process- notice the fear, ask what sparked it, talk myself through the panic and know that I’m grown and able to protect myself and my children. 

Healing is messy. It’s painful. It’s so hard...... but there is a comfort and peace that washes over me after the panic drains out. If I stand in the fear and allow it, then powerful gratitude washes over me.  Now I can see all my blessings  as the cloud of fear evaporates. I can take a deep breath and feel Brad’s  hand on my back. I know that he loves me now. Fear kept me from being able to feel any emotion for a long time. Healing means dealing with all the bad emotions so love can finally get into my hardened heart. 

      Still navigating what is and is not ok to share. I won’t carry this shame anymore. I will speak up as a survivor. If it’s offensive, scroll on.  If this is something you are dealing with I’m sharing so it becomes easier for all of us. - 1 out of every 4 women in the United States will be sexually assaulted by the age of 18. Many, like me, will survive childhood sexual abuse and assaults as an adult. I speak up to bring awareness. I speak up to throw hope out there- healing does actually happen. If life is really, really hard right now it’s time to look for help. 

      You don’t have to carry this kind of shit alone. It’s shit, literal shit that you can deal with and then quit carrying.  Walking, talking, living with out that heavy burden is possible.

Tate is joy.

     Cried this morning watching Tate. This is her very last time on the floor. She did it big- won gold on the

floor and second all around gold and silver in all events. Covid changed all of our lives, Tate’s the most.  She practiced and did online workouts every day for 3 months. These aren’t the kind of skills you can keep up from home. 

       She lost her favorite coach, her best friends and the sport she was made for. She sat and thought long and hard when the world began to open back up. Not a single girl from her group went back. Gymnast don’t take off, they can’t. One missed week of practice on bars took at least a month to overcome and work back to. 

    The thought of starting from scratch with out Coach Tami and all of the young women from her team was just not possible. 

     I know this is small in the grand scheme of things. We are so fortunate, but that doesn’t take away the fact that she was SO GOOD. 

    I laugh when I say I want to be Tate when I grow up, but I am very serious. She’s the hardest worker I know. She’s braver than any person I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine leaping blindly backwards on a balance beam and trusting my own abilities to know I’ll land. 

     The amount of sheer determination to walk into a tryout to a new sport you don’t know and do your best in spite of being scared of looking stupid is huge. She’s made it on the B or C team for volleyball and basketball. Walked on and picked up a tennis racket for the first time the day before tryouts and came in 4th out of 27 girls. She is just badass.  It’s has to be humbling to be one of the top in the nation in your sport. To not only make it to regionals but medal at the top competition in your sport, then have it all pulled out from under you. 

      Tate shows up. She showed up 6 days a week for hours long practices. She trained every day, homework in the car, two hour daily commute and still pulled a 4.0 in school. Worked through injuries and smiled the whole time. I was so worried for her when the world shut down. I worried this would crush her to lose the sport that she lived for. I’ve learned never to doubt her.  The same dedication she had for gymnastics is still hers. She has just put it into learning new sports, building a new network of friends, trying every single sport she can. 

     I’ll say this over and over : Tate means bringer of joy. I was scared to be pregnant after losing a baby before her. I had no idea the little 8lb baby we brought home would grow into such a determined, powerful, silly, smart, witty young lady. I thought she would bring us joy, I didn’t know she would also bring joy to herself in any situation.  You ARE  joy sweet Tater and I love you more than you know.