Recklessly Thirty

I watched a video tonight of a woman I was fortunate to meet around my thirtieth birthday. She was at one point in time a fitness competitor and model in California. Her video was not posted to social media, though. She has deleted them for the sole purpose of not feeling the need to be validated by others via likes and comments. A mutual contact came across the video of her somehow, as she expressed her feelings to former followers about the unhappiness that was her life in So Cal. I don't want to get into all the meaningful details of her video, but let me just say that her words are sticking with me. No matter how many followers, likes, and competitions she placed in, she was tired of being told what people didn't like about her body and making herself to believe her body was never good enough. She made it a point to say how important it is for us, as women, to empower one another. The friend I met this beautiful woman through is a very enthusiastic promoter of self love. ...

Perhaps I'm going against all things I said in the beginning I wouldn't write about by doing this, but if I'm to open y'all up to who I am, I need to be completely honest about some things. I have never been the definition of a good Catholic. I couldn't tell you about the Bible or quote it, who was at the Last Supper, or even what time mass starts on Sunday mornings. When my mom died over a year ago, I quit going to church. Hell it was before then that I had quit going. Why you ask? I was mad at the big guy upstairs. He took my oldest brother from this world and left my family in shambles trying to pick up the pieces and make our lives somewhat whole again. Then he went and gave my mom the cancer back that she fought so hard to get rid of. To make matters worse, he made the cancer spread and he took her just a quick 13 months after my brother. To say I was pissed is an understatement. I had every right to be didn't I? You'd be heartbroken, devastated, ...

When a chance to get away for a weekend arises I'm quick to jump in my car or hop on a plane to any destination that allows myself to feel like I'm really living my life to the fullest. On an evening flight to Memphis one  Friday night  I found myself on an unfilled flight with an empty seat next to me. I read my book that's quite capturing for a little while, but found myself staring out the window instead.  I've always felt like my favorite time to fly was in the early morning. Because when I get to watch the sun rise from above the clouds, I feel as if I'm witnessing a more incredible sunrise than those below on land. It's mine. No one else I know gets to see the surreal beauty that I do. That night I stared at the moon though. Above orangish red hues fading into yellows and pinks that remind me of sunshine and bold colored flowers, on into blue sky surrounded by pillows of clouds, sat the moon shining so incredibly bright. And for a minute, I think maybe...