31 Days To Self Love: Day 10

original challenge: Blessing Manifesting

"No one can make you feel inferior without you consent" - Eleanor Roosevelt.

Well gee thanks Eleanor. In this moment that just makes me feel like a big ole' dum dum. But ... it's true. I've spent decades (I almost chose another less dramatic word --- until i realized it's true) teaching people that it's okay to treat me, speak to me, expect from me, and think of me in a way that is not full of self love, respect, or heck even kindness. 

And guess who is at fault?

If you guessed me -- well then friend you and I are on the same page. 

I didn't grow up with a good example of what a healthy, respectful, romantic relationship was. My parents were never together, and the couples I was surrounded by, for the most part, were highly dysfunctional. 

I am a people pleaser to a fault. Wait... is there ever a scenario where people pleasing isn't to a fault? Is it ever a good thing? Hmmm... that is another topic I think I've dive into at some other time. 

Do you know what I've come to realize about why I allow others to cross the boundaries of poor treatment in my life?

It's really a no-brainer so I feel silly that it's taken me so long to figure it out and label it but here it goes: I (on a daily basis) cross my own boundaries too.  I talk down, left, right, up, and inside at myself .  I speak outloud, and inwardly, about how I'm not X,Y,Z. How my ____ isn't enough. How I look _____. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not a good enough writer. Not a good enough mom. The liste could go on and on and  on. 

soooooo.... If i do that to myself.... how on earth could or should I expect more from other people?

This isn't a "Them" problem. This is a ME problem. One I am determined to get to the bottom of. 

I'm not sure where to start, but I think these daily prompts about self love is probably a pretty good place to begin. 

31 Days To Self Love: Day 9

original challenge: Blessing Manifesting

Stuff.
All the stuff.


When my dad died (oh snap --- is she gonna go all dark and twisty again? no no. we cool bro.)
I kept a lot of his stuff. It was like an attempt to keep him.

My dad loved things. He had a lot of them. And the daddy/daughter struggle within me always made me want to be more like him. (Side note --- that would be a very inwardly reflective post I may write sometime)

I am 37 and I have always collected, kept, and relished in having stuff. Home decor I was always so attracted to had a multitude of photo walls, and rows and rows of bookshelves filled. Things felt warm and cozy.

Stuff -- i've come to learn.... have filled voids in my life  When I'm upset or happy -- I want to go shopping. A trip to Target is NEVER done with a stuck - to shopping list. I must peruse up and down the endcaps looking for the hidden clearance treasures. I didn't know I needed these rose gold $9 pair of scissors, but clearly the universe brought them to me because I should redo my office in rose gold... as I skip over to the textile aisle. Because you know --- I really need new curtains to bring out the rose gold elements in my soon to be purchased office accessories in my red cart of happiness.

Stuff.

It fills the holes in my soul like a supernatural spackle.  I fill in the gaps and smooth things over and before you know it --- everything looks pretty again. Just don't get too close.

Last year sometime --- I imagined a life for myself without stuff. Without that spackling putty holding me together... what
would happen?Would I fall apart? Likely, yes.

The fear of falling apart was palpable, but something strong then fear pushed me forward. Hope.

I cleaned out my closet and found the emptiness to be comforting instead of terrifying. I felt like I should walk by my empty closet all day because what I experienced when I saw the empty spaces -- was something I longed for with every fiber of my being... Peace.  How could purging out my closet bring me such elation? How could I purge my closet and not have one foot out the door to refill my clothes with cute new Target threads?

Something I didn't see coming happened... The more room I freed up from things --- the more room I had for peace.

woah.

So I continue on my quest to have less things. I'm still working on my bedroom. Can I just say --- wide open spaces are my new favorite thing. I have plans for my spaces. Plans that will bring me MORE peace.

31 Days To Self Love: Day 8

original challenge: Blessing Manifesting

Being a mom is hard. Like really really hard. There aren't enough synonyms to accurately describe how hard it is.

It's physically hard because one minute you a making a cup of coffee or whatever and the next you have three little people pushing and pulling every part of you. If you have never experiences the wrath of a four year olds elbow in the crotch? Bro you are living your best life.

Emotionally --- the raising of three kids.... MUST be akin to a soldier in battle. You have to feed them every. night. You have to nurture them every. day. You have to listen to your kids tell you the same thing over and over and over with about a million "Mommmmmm"s interjected between breaths. If you are a momma to girls? As they get older... it's weird... they like lose their need to breath between words. My middle talks so much sometimes I just stare at her and wonder how I earth the words just keep coming.

As a mom it's your job to raise tiny humans to become actual humans others want to be around. While I prefer to eat both of my meals (okay - prefer is not really the right word here .... relegated is more accurate.) standing up over the countertop of my kitchen --- I have to teach my little mafia to sit in their seat, not chew out loud, eat their vegetables, and be polite. It's exhausting.

Teaching them to do things they need to know how to do?

BRUTAL.

I can make the worlds greatest PBJ in two seconds FLAT. Like for real. But part of being a mama is needing to teach them to be independent and make their own damn sandwich.

THIS IS THE EXHAUSTING PART.

Mom I can't find the bread. Mom I can't find the bread. Mom where is the bread.
It's the same place it's been kept your entire 7 years on this earth moon child.

Mom where is the jelly? Mom where is the knife? Mom it wont spread. Mom Charley is looking at me. Mom charley has a knife. Mom I actually wanted cheese and mayonnaise.

Are you catching my drift? EXHAUSTION.

Teaching your mini to make a sandwich takes approximately eight hundred thousand percent more time then whipping one up yourself.

Have kids they said. It will be fun they said.

😑😑😑😑😑😑😑😑😑


But one day -- it clicks. And you feel like you are on top of the world. Your kid made their own sandwich. Praise Jesus.

Now to get started on teaching them to clean up. Doh.

For me... parenting is the place I most need to slow down. Take my time. This morning I played Barbies with Charlotte. I left the distractions behind (ie kept the phone on the charger) and just immersed myself in play with her. As I took time to do what she wanted, to fit an entire Barbie family in that iconic pink convertible as they dash off for icecream... I was amazed. I created her. I  have invested so many parts of me... all of me... into this tiny person... and what does she pretend? About family. (Insert gushy line here. :) )

Slowing down and marveling at these tiny dictators that own my heart? Can't think of anything better.

Except maybe a tiny dictator that is self-cleaning. But we are working on that.

31 Days To Self Love: Day 7

original challenge: Blessing Manifesting

Sneaky sneaky prompt. I see what you are doing. Trying to make me recognize and acknowledge something beautiful about myself. 

I'm just gonna lay it out there like a boss. 

Body: I love my hair and eyes. I love being a readhead. I haven't always, but the older I get the more I love it.

Personality: I love  the nontraditional parts of my personality and beliefs that very few people.get to see. Mostly because I'm a walking talking locked box. I feel like I see the world differently then a lot of people.  I don't think things need to be done a certain way, just because it always has been.  I really like that about me.

And I got startled

And I Got Startled

and i got startled

not knowing if he was offensive

in the way polka music is

(a little too loud, for a little too long)

or worse

if his offense was the kind

you feel sharply

the sear of skin

the tenderness left behind

i sit in the waiting room

full of sick

catching glimpses of him as i decide

he plays vulgar music loud

much louder than socially acceptable

i am startled

as i walk to the cold empty room

i feel his eyes watching me

offense?

maybe. 

31 Days To Self Love: Day 6 "What do you need to forgive yourself for?" AKA My Dad Is Dead Volume 1

original challenge: Blessing Manifesting

My dad is dead. That sounds dramatic -- and I guess it is --- but mostly i just had to get it out in the open so we can just get on with it. So we are on the same page, eh? yas.

My dad died, and I wasn't there. I'm still not. I don't know how to be.

I'm still not there . What I mean by that is that 10 years later --- I still can't be in that moment. The moment I got the call. When I start to think about the moment I shrink inside myself like a child and run.

I had been working at subway at the time. I had missed a couple calls from Michigan the night before and I was so tired when I got home that I didn't even listen to the voicemail. I assumed they were debt collectors. Since leaving Michigan, and my divorce with my ex being finalized, and I just didn't want to deal with it.

I got a call from a Michigan number so I decided to answer. It was the wrong number, they were called to ask me about organs. They mentioned my dads name, but i figured this was because of  his drivers license or something.  While on with them my mom called and I switched over.
It was around 5 pm . I answered it to see what was up. She had just returned to Michigan from visiting me in Florida, and I wanted to make sure all was well.

"Honey, I...need to talk to you..."

There was something in her tone that seemed off. It was like every cell in my body shriveled up in anticipation.

"What's up mom? Did you get unpacked?"

"Ashlee I love you. I need you to listen carefully."

"uh okay, whats up?"

"I just spoke with Aunt Mary. Daddy got in an accident at home, he had to go to the emergency room. He had an aneurysm."

"oh my gosh, thanks for telling me. how is he doing, which hospital? "

"Ashlee...."

"mom he's okay right? he will be fine?"

"Ashlee they tried to save ..."

"MOM tell me he's okay mom. mom he's okay right? let me talk to him"

"They tried honey, they couldn'-"

"stop saying that mom. stop lying. stop saying that to me. what do you mean. stop it mom. stop. i want my dad where is my dad"

"daddy died Ashlee"

Those three words. They were a start of a revolution in my life. Those three words punctured me and all that I am and it's in those three words that the darkness began to creep in. I didn't know it at the time. I didn't know that 10 years later i would still be overcome with darkness.

I couldn't speak. I remember her yelling in the phone, "I need to know you are okay. ashlee. i need you to talk. i need to know you arent okay. i need you to call doug. you can't be alone. ashlee? ashlee?"

I summoned the courage to speak. "Im ok. I have to go. i am going to call doug"

"call me right back"

Doug had been working at Verizon. I called his cell. over and over with no response. I called his store and no one was answering. Apparently it was a busy day.

I didn't know what to do. My blood was flowing through my body in a way I had never felt before.

I called Doug's mom. I don't know why but I knew i couldn't be alone. I needed her to find him.

"Hello? "

"Hi Betty, it's Ashlee. I need you to get ahold of Doug as soon as possible. He isn't answering his phone"

"What's wrong?"

There was a pause I didn't see coming but makes perfect sense now. How do I say this outloud? I had only just found out and already I had to say it out loud.

"My.. my... my dad died. I just found out."

"Oh Ashlee." she wept.

In a matter of fact kind of way .... almost as an announcement to myself and her, i heard myself say
"This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me"
"I will find doug immediately"

We got off the phone in some way. I don't remember.

I called Andrea and Joshua.

I don't remember the conversations, really.

I don't remember when Doug made it home, i just remember crying so hard in Doug's chest that night. Harder then I knew possible. I could feel my heart breaking with each breath and it was physically painful. I'd fall asleep for a few minutes while taking a breath from the tears, wake up and say "Did I dream it?"

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My dad died the night before. The missed calls were the hospital and the organ donation call was legit. I was the next of kin and they had to know if I wanted to donate my dads organs.

My dad died the day before and I didn't know. I didn't feel different. I didn't feel my heart breaking when his stopped beating. I had absolutely no indication. He was gone for hours before I ever knew.


I know this will sound unusual. It's not me not being in Michigan to save him that I am so guilty of.  What i need to forgive myself for is not knowing he was gone... and for still even to this day not being able to be in that moment.

I need to forgive myself for my inability to talk about him without breaking apart.
I need to forgive myself for having no photos of him up, for not talking about him much at all.



I don't know how I will be able to heal from this event in my life. I don't know what that looks like for me and my journey through life. But I'm hopeful it can happen.

Peoply Things

Peoply Things

I'm not so good at peoply things

like sending back an overcooked steak

or completing a to-do list

or making conversation in a freezer aisle

I'm not so good at peoply things

like meeting for lunch

or picking wet towels off of the floor 

or poltical rhetoric in an attempt to feel smart

Let's never sit and discuss 

401ks and HMOs

or how it's a buyers market

or indulge in fictional life details we make up to fit in

Instead - 

can we just -

talk about the callous on your hands

and what you were doing

or why my feet in the earth calms my soul

I want to hear how you survived 

all those years of pushing and pulling

and whether birds sing because

they are happy or simple biology

How do you call out joy in your space?

Why own a guitar you don't play?

What secrets lay behind the lines in your face?

I'm not so good at peoply things

like writing pretty poems

with ends tied together

or telling my story

or discussing the weather

Tell me whats weathering

your soul deep inside

Describe me the colors

when you rest your weary eyes

Yes, peoply things have  time and a place

Guess i'm not so good at this peoply space.