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When I first started my blog in July of last year, I started with an introduction and purpose. Looking back at this piece of writing and all that I have written, I have conceived three very exciting concepts.
     1. Writing helps me monumentally with my emotional strength and regulation.
     2. My quality of life is intertwined with my self awareness, often gained through writing.
     3. Each time I write, I develop into my own teacher, healer, doctor, and confidant. It is like me
     healing me. 

The 19 posts published on this blog are only a drop in the bucket of what I have written over the last year and a half.

Here is the introduction and purpose I wrote at launch:

"So, I started to blog.

My sincere hope is that writing will help me (and hopefully others) through various, rough times. If not? Hey, at least I am making some healthier choices than I have in the past. In my simple opinion that is a positive thing for me and my little family.

A dear friend of mine suggested blogging as a way to cope and process raw feelings. "Write it out, and let it go" she shared with me. "You always play your cards so close to the chest. Let others help. Even if that help is just reading what you write. Or, just write it and don't share it."

A different, dear friend helped me master transforming physical pain. (Give me that over emotional distress any day!) In matters of the heart, I have come to realize, with me at least, the only way to "get over it" is through it.

I have attempted to numb or just plain ignore that distress, both options are sticky. Since I have actually begun dating for real, I have embarked on a whole different ball game with interpersonal relationships. I have never experienced this level of emotional turmoil before, hence - the blogging. However, I really do see the pain as a good thing, but oh God... so hard.

Our physical bodies are amazing, pain indicates so many things, and can be tool. The same is true with my emotional body and my emotional pain. In medicine, we learn that if the pain is different, it's usually a very good thing. Different can be healthy, and I embrace this pain as a guide to direct me to new paths."

Bibliotherapy really works for me because I am analytical. It is one of my characteristics I am fond and proud of. Through it, I bear the ability to perform emotional and mental resections and reformations at my own hand. The astonishing power I have benefited from makes me intensely curious. What if I were to write about various matters in hand? As I observe my most esteemed mentors, they all had one thing in common. Guess what it was? They write.

Is it time to proliferate? What an exciting thought...

Proof

Sadness, pain and suffering are universal emotions. All have felt it. All will feel it. In my experiences it is important to know these so I can know and appreciate the opposite end of the spectrum.

Because I finally accepted that I fundamentally feel unworthy, unloveable, and undesireable, I was finally able to identify that I only date men that would "prove" this fundamental belief to me.

Knowledge is power, as they say, and you know what finally happened? I broke. All of my excuses imploded. The faux "protection" I snaked behind? Gone. The bareness left me open, if not incredibly shaky and vulnerable. No longer was I able to hide my true feelings away. And, fuck, I had to do something about it.

So, I bear my mangled soul to my most serious offender, Christopher Saville. The man I have loved and been in an off-and-on relationship with for over a year. Our exchange was soft but terrifying. Direct, and implosive. Our insidious collusion was called out as bullshit. And just like that... I was released from the grips and the awfulness of this man and his repeated offenses. I no longer have to make excuses for the terrible choices he makes in life or in our relationship. I no longer have to explain empathy and responsibility to a grown man. Over are the days where I request basic, human consideration. Finished are my pleadings with him to "see" and "hear" our children and myself. My dutiful position as his confidant I was now willing to take off the table altogether.

Fragmented and armed with my truth, I was finally able to demand his.

His cold, callous responses were like stinging hail, descending upon me until the gravest of discoveries: that his artifice of love is conditional, and ended long ago. His intentions each time we 'got back together' were never to reconcile, but to get what he could get. I could clearly see this now. Because I shared my black, deep truths, he revealed his, which mostly consisted of preying on my vulnerabilities during our time together.
Towards the end, I looked up into his eyes, which previously would have coaxed me back into his arms and I finally recognized it in him, or rather the depth of it. Chris felt similarly about himself that I did about myself. And as my eyes filled up with tears upon this realization, I choked out "This is a good thing." Because I intrinsically believe in balance, I know we (as human beings, not together) are capable of reversing and rising from this.

My continued and offered optimism fell on his deaf ears and his hard heart. But, the surge of encouragement I felt from within me was unmatched and unprecedented. I was finally able to severe our toxic relationship that overflowed with longing, suppression and loneliness. The deepest sadness I experienced came from his parting thoughts and words. After we had fully disclosed and arrived at this place, he clearly still did not understand. He even had the audacity to ask if he could still see me. "To what end?" I asked. "Do you not comprehend the depth of the hurt that you have caused and that I have allowed? Do you still not understand?" No, he didn't.

Why would he want to cling to his connection with me? He confessed earlier that he does not love me. That he is not able to love me, to be there for me, or any of the things that I had asked for and he never delivered, and I pathetically accepted his emptiness. As I claimed my virtue and began to shut him down, he jammed his foot in for one last attempt. "I still want to date you. Even though I know I have been unfair to you, I still want to be friends". His words are so very wrong, as they hang above me. "Be friends? You don't know what that means." I point out. "Why, Chris?" He cannot answer... But, he doesn't have to. Even though I can spell it all out for him, I don't. I invite him to leave and never come back.

How was I able to do this? It is because of my worth, that I can finally see, feel and claim. He is completely willing to receive all of the benefits of being loved by me, AND completely unwilling to love me. I stand between him and my fragile self-discovery and draw a solid, thick line. I am worth so much more.

Compassionately I can see my value and my wobbly strength. This precious and fleeting insight I obtained through many drawn out experiences of being devalued in intimate relationships collectively gathered at the end of this one. The lies that I told myself and others, are dissolving and something familiar steps forward. Pain? Yes, it is pain... But, this time the pain is at the helm. And, even though it is excruciating... I trust and surrender that I no longer know what is best for me and I can accept that.

My friends, my therapists, my family I am so thankful for. However, ultimately I am thankful for the me and the courage to decidedly make this move. I am able to redefine what I know of myself, and I can grow.

Somethings we can only learn in intimate relationships, and this is one of them. Unfortunately, I have avoided those most of my adult life, so it has taken me longer than most. I walk away with gratitude and humility, because, shit... it's about time.

Projection, Process and Perception.

Each day. Each year brings new insight. 

I asked some friends to guess what the weight loss was from the first picture with the red shirt to the second picture with the white shirt. Lots of different numbers flowed in, with lots of different comments. The actual number? Zero. In fact, those two pictures were taken within less than 24 hours of each other. Truth.

I have thought a lot lately about projection and honesty.

Looking at the picture on the left and the one on the right, can you imagine what thoughts and feeling may harbor inside?

Definitively, of course not. But possible connection is made, right?

The truth is that my thoughts and emotions were literally a shit show in the second picture, and in the first, I felt grounded and thought I was pretty centered. I mentioned earlier that when I originally shared these pictures of myself I did so as a solicitation to a very precise question. A quantitative prediction, in fact. But, resoundingly, I received comments from these dear people about my appearance.  

It got me thinking about the human process of connection and interpretation. Those images entered minds through eyes and were processed through each individual very individually. The comments made were a result of each person's own feelings and thoughts. It was their honest perceptions of me, based on their own wisdom. 

My daily experiences bring new insight. As I make changes in my life and process my thoughts and feelings, I deepen the connections I have. The connections within myself have proven to be the most valuable. Allowing my heart and mind to partner up, and become better friends has been bumpy to say the least. However, as I observe and share more of myself with myself... the more I seem to understand the fluidity of reality. 

One day - that is the amount of time that transpired from the first picture to the next. To me, when I look at these pictures of myself, I see and feel so much. And, as I gently observe these thoughts and feelings that convoy my insides... I am reminded of my human and divine nature and how that sacred connection propels me forward. 

I need your help.

I am an evolving human being filled with emotion, energy and experience. I am a growing collection of good, bad, light, dark, strength and weakness. I am grateful for the time I spend in my relationships resulting in rich development and continual learning. 

Because of LOVE (for you and myself) I am reaching out to share and ask for your help. 

"Share and ask". Verbs that can be terrifying and world-changing. Both require action. Both require humility. 

Okay... deep breath... 

Share. I don't mind sharing. Especially when I know that by doing so, it may help someone who may experience something similar. God knows I have benefited many times over from dear people taking a small moment to relate with me. And then again, sometimes not. It's up to us what we give and take. 
This subject I am going to tackle has been a source of real emotional pain that I have wrestled with for decades. Thank you for spending time reviewing what I have tried to put down in words. And thank you for considering my invitation to help me.

If you know me, you know what I physically look like. If you don't, I have provided two pictures at different times in my life over the last 10 years. There's a difference.  

So, that girl you are looking at... That's me, Colleen. There were moments of happiness and sadness involved with both of those images you see. I don't look at one as "better" than the other, but I show these pictures so you may have a better understanding of what I can offer, and possibly how you might help.  

I have been, am currently, and hopefully will continue to be, active all of my life. However, when I was about 10 years old my body ballooned, and my journey of being physically overweight began. A lot of things were happening. My parents divorced, puberty approached a bit early for me, and I developed an unhealthy, emotional relationship with food. Basically, I would deal with any emotional confusion or pain by isolating and numbing said experience with food. I would also use food to celebrate, congratulate and reward myself. I was a baby, and didn't understand the orchestra I would lead for the next 20 years or so. 

I lost 100 lbs with diet and exercise over the course of about 18-24 months in my late twenties. Like I mentioned before, I am SO thankful for my relationships. I was fortunate to have the perfect storm of friendships at that particular time in my life. I was finally in an emotional "place" to challenge myself and everything I believed in. I credit a lot of the success I experienced to the priceless friendships I formed. But, it was me that did the work, my feet that hit the pavement, my body that swam the laps, my elbows that jabbed through the emotional and physical pain, and my mind that disciplined and dedicated myself daily. 

How did it happen? It seems that life comes in pairs; ups and downs, ying and yang. And, the time the beach photo was taken was really no different. This success in weight loss came directly after I had been stripped of everything that I took almost a full decade to earn. I unearthed an ugly truth: I didn't know myself. I defined who I was by external things. Success I had achieved in business, positions I held in my church, accomplishments I had accrued.  All of this and more I used as evidence to convince myself and the world of my worth. That is how I defined Colleen. And when I lost it all... I lost myself. It was a frail, raw, uncomfortable place.

But, fate it seems has something to teach from the most unlikely of teachers. True is the phrase "when you loose your life, you find it". What did I find? Well, I found myself associating with people I would have never associated with before. I discovered myself opening up in ways I hadn't before. Beliefs and thinking that I was indoctrinated with since my birth, I confronted. As my life crashed around me, I sensed it was okay to question everything, since everything was fucked anyway. And I finally accepted the "perfect" life I had accomplished was not "perfect", and accepted failure. I met new people, read new books, and tried new things. I slowly identified humility in myself, and from there.... well, I grew.

The weight has stayed off for years because of the fundamental shift I created in my daily reality. But, I have not been able to progress. I am still overweight, and I am quite literally stuck. I attributed my earlier victories to "the perfect storm of friendships at that particular time in my life". And, like I explained "It was a frail, raw, uncomfortable place". As I observe my life today, I can tearfully say I am back there again. The people I am surrounded by, the daily interactions I engage in, and my recent relationships have unearthed another, ugly truth about Colleen. I abuse food and am emotionally and chemically addicted to it.

I do NOT like to think of food addiction as a chemical addiction, but believe me - it is. When I hear "chemical addiction", I immediately think of hard drugs like cocaine, heroin or meth. The personal experiences I have had with drugs and drug addicts has been HELL. Working with this demographic for the last year and a half has exposed the gross underbelly of addiction. And the mere thought of lumping me together with that group of people has caused me severe pain.

On a chemical level - food addiction and drug addiction can be considered very similar, especially when you factor in the reasons a person "uses".   

Here's basically how it works: Our bodies chemically digest food. It all starts with our saliva and chewing. By doing this, enzymes break down the foods we put in our mouth into teeny, tiny molecules our miracle bodies can use - and a whole bunch that it really can't. So there is the "chemical" correlation.  But, I still want to deny that I have a chemical addiction... Until I learned about what defines addiction. One definition is this: "Addiction is reflected in an individual pathologically pursuing reward and/or relief by substance use and other behaviors. Addiction is characterized by inability to consistently abstain, impairment in behavioral control, craving, diminished recognition of significant problems with one's behaviors and interpersonal relationships, and a dysfunctional emotional response." I still denied it. How could food be a drug? How could my behaviors be compared to a drug addict? But, after learning about the neurobiology of addiction and how the human brain processes chemicals in reward centers of the brain, I couldn't ignore that I have a problem.
And it is a real problem. It is the problem that is damning me up and tearing me down. 

So, here I am. I know what I am capable of, and I am strong. A tangled, life-long addiction like this one is tricky, to say the least. And I need help with knowing where to go for recovery. I have started with making an appointment with a counselor. I am filled with anxiety, because I work in this profession. I honestly am looking to ground myself with this raw revelation and am searching for solid support. 

Connections

Have you ever heard the quote "Wherever you go, there you are?" The first time I remember hearing this was when I was living in dirty Jersey, circa 2007. It was one of those quotes that stuck with me. I remember immediately relating the quote to a story I had heard when I was a punk teenager, I could almost feel the synapse occur in my head. The story was about a young animal who lived in the forest. He noticed a distinct smell. Curious as to the smell's origin, he traveled all over the forest searching, but in the end realized the scent was actually him... Essence of himself.

In my mind, the connection the juvenile forest animal made snakes me back to my unbreakable connection between my emotions, attitudes and thoughts. Basically, my being. Not only that, but how it is frequently so freaking hard for me to remember that I see the world as I am.

You know? Maybe? Example: If I have a shitty attitude and I am filled with suspicious or accusing thoughts, I am going to manifest the evidence I need to justify the emotions I am feeling from the internal mess I am projecting. Opposite works the same way. If I am centered, filling my mind with positive, grounded thoughts, I will encounter confidence in my interactions, and my attitudes will conceive optimism.

My private understanding is something I earn. I am simply thankful to myself for this gentle (sometimes) discernment I am shaping. It is a deep, personal empathy. A valuable, personal skill. I can figuratively take a step back and fundamentally observe myself in a situation. The best is when I can do this "in the moment", but it doesn't always happen that way. Most of the time it is hindsight, sometimes foresight. This skill has guided me many times to do great things and accept dark details of myself.

But.... that skill is more internal. It doesn't translate as smoothly when I play with others. Yea... that is kinda a different story. Especially when it comes to my intimate affairs. In my observation and reflection of those relationships, I notice that I have developed a knee-jerk reaction to certain behaviors or attitudes (both in myself and in my partner). And, me being me.. I want to analyze the shit out of it.

It's like I'm a pilot, reading her instruments on the control panel. Panic sets in when levels drop, the horizon becomes askew, and we fly directly into stormy weather. Mayday! Instead of calming riding through the storm, shifting some shit around, or correcting course, we nosedive. My poor relationships don't necessarily crash and burn, but we sustain major hull damage.

The best way I can describe it is heartbreak. I feel like that stupid, forest-dwelling mammal desperately sniffing the air. What the hell? Fuck! Where is it coming from? Attempting over and over again to find the source. And all along... it is within.

"You are your biggest problem, and your only solution." There's another quote that marooned in my soul. And, you know.. when I look at my "failed" relationships, reminisce about ex-boyfriends, or relive arguments it is easy to become discouraged. But, in those moments, I gently and assertively glimpse at how far I have come. And if evidence and evaluation is what hits a chord with me, well then... I am resoundingly succeeding. The debris from the failed connections prove my efforts. And I am slowly realizing that the stronger my relationship is with myself. the more I realize, I have everything I need to "get it".

The margins

A habit that I have adopted, especially when learning from reading a book is to write notes to myself in the margins of that book I am accumulating information from. My process is most successful when I take what the writer wrote and “re-write it” with specific examples in my own life. As I go back and re-read favorite books that have coached me, I am reminded of sacred moments, and I get to revisit parts of myself throughout my history.

I read one book in particular over and over again. Over the last two days, I have relived some poignant moments that happened six years ago, one year ago, and about a week ago. I also discovered, quite haphazardly that all of my more serious relationships ended permanently in the month of July. I may or may not have formed some anxiety around this particular, hot month.

More close to my heart is the realization that somehow, as I had gained in life experience, I had declined in sensitivity and wisdom. Getting older had made me less mature. I have a very close connection with one of my nieces because I can identify similarities in our personality. When she speaks to me, our souls resonate. When I replay our interactions and conversations, I am reminded of what I used to be like. I have noticed a subtle hardening of my heart, and a distance from my loved ones.

I know this experience is not uncommon. Some call it “jaded” or possibly “cynical”. It happens with many of us. That is why I am so thankful for my silly system with the margins. It helps me to remember and connect to myself in a different time, similar situation, and the best part is that it is Me speaking to Me. I take comfort in the knowledge that I’ve been here before, and I made it through just fine.

Embracing my demons. Accepting that I am imperfect. Allowing pain as part of my journey grounds me to my core values. It reminds me of who I am and want to be. And, I appreciate the calm in the storm, and destroy the hard shell that forms around my heart.

Hard Days Come and Go

     Hard days come and go, we all have them. This hard day, I want to process rather than ignore. Maybe one day I can look back and see how far my little family has come. Maybe not. Either way, I am going to surrender my logic to my emotion and just share. 

     My journey to become a mother was imperfect and flawed. My choices were irresponsible and shallow. However, when I found out that I was going to be a Mommy, courage came. I took a hard look at myself and discovered some ugly truths. I faced them head on, no backing down. I found inside of myself a commitment to do whatever I needed to do to be what she needed.

     My baby's father and I were practically strangers. But, as I invited him into my life, he revealed his personal struggles and addictions. Through that process, I thankfully discovered some of my own as well. Every day contained both a painful struggle and delightful happiness in our joined relationship as imperfect people preparing to have a child. 

     In that preparation, I took steps to honor and protect my sweet girl's rights. She has the right to a relationship and support from both her mother and her father. This litigation basically ended with an open invitation for that relationship to be fostered with her father as long as it was within certain boundaries of the law. Long story short: Her dad chose, and continually chooses not to conform to these boundaries and remains absent. 

     It is something that tears me up completely. I realize the great choice and responsibility that is mine to raise my daughter, and thank God I have my parents - who provide me with so much support and love. I made the choice to be a single mother and raise my daughter with the possibility of never having a relationship with her biological father.

     Charlotte has a half sister, who is only two months younger than her. Her half sister's mother has chosen a different route than I did. Dad is in and out of her life for the last two years. I don't know too many details, but I do know that he will come and go as he pleases with his other daughter.

     The truth is that Charlotte's father chooses to be with her half sister more because it is "easier" for him. He doesn't have to prove himself clean, capable and consistent to see her. But... she experiences a relationship with her father and he is a presence in her life. 

     As I look into my beautiful daughter's eyes today, I feel an intense ache. Her father is absent. Father's day is coming up, and Charlotte's Dad chooses not to show up for her in her life. The frustrating truth that I have very little control over this grates on my conscience. I am emotionally raw, bruised and broken.

     I try to close my eyes and picture the beautiful couples, families and mentors I have personally experienced and benefited from. I can only continue to improve, recommit daily, and provide for my little girl. I'm not her Dad, but I am enough. And come what may, I will be there. I will show up, and I will love her forever. 

Love...

He is Home to my mind, body and soul.

"There is a peace only to be found on the other side of war"

 
"There is a peace only to be found on the other side of war". It is an oxymoron. My favorite one, in fact. Actually, it is a quote from one of my favorite movies: "First Knight". Even though this is spoken in the context of actual war, I have often taken this to a more personal level of the internal battles I suit up for.

In the movie, King Arthur delivers this line to Malegant, a former knight of the round table, in a tense confrontation between the two characters. Arthur continues on to say "If that war should come I will fight it". I often wonder what was it that fueled him to decide to fight? It wasn't like he went out looking for it. It was a last resort. Maybe it was a desire for peace that contributed to Arthur's decision to take a stand and protect his kingdom and (in the movie) Genevieve's land?

The choice to "fight", to confront, or to stand up for yourself is something I have become familiar with. I have faced internal opponents and I discovered as I have conquered some of those, I was more prepared to take on the external ones as well. Amazingly, it has helped me be a better parent.

Accountability? To some... that word is scary. To others? Comfort. To me? Well... frustration.

As humans, we crave ease. We want things to be easy, calm and comfortable. Those sweet moments in life are wonderful. But, in my opinion... they have to be earned. "There is a peace that is only found on the other side of war", remember.

To be accountable and to hold others accountable is NOT comfortable. To step into the light, look up, and show your weakness can be torture. To ask a person who promised you something to make good on their promise can be a heartache. I have seen an adult break down and cry when drawing a boundary and allowing the natural consequence to take place when the boundary is broken by enforcing the consequence.

The successes I have experienced with the "battles" I have fought have only been because they were built upon a strong foundation of integrity and adherence to natural consequence of law. No "tricks".

I feel that I have been fighting one particular battle all of my life. At the end of this month, I will take the first step toward overcoming this struggle, even though I have to give credit where credit is due and say that I have come a long way. I could never have gotten this far without the understanding, love and fierce examples of my dear friends and family.

Weakness really can be turned into strength. Wrongs really can be righted. Forgiveness and reconciliation are real, honest things. And I am so thankful I have experienced, and continue to experience this peace I have found, only on the other side of some very intense, fucking wars.