I'm going to get on my soapbox for a minute and make a statement.
Let me be clear about something:
When I'm going through something difficult, I write. I don't know why I started doing it in the first place, but turns out, it makes me feel better.
Ok, sometimes a glass of wine or Grey Goose on the rocks makes me feel better too. But writing is obviously the healthiest option.
I also verbally share my experiences with others, which occasionally comes back to bite me in the ass, because I set myself up for harsh judgement. I'm beginning to learn that not everyone is going to like me or what I have to say. The intent of my blog is not to man-bash, destroy my ex's reputation, play the victim, or gain attention. As I've said before, I did not expect anyone to read what I've written.......except for my mom. Maybe an aunt or a cousin.
I've found solace in writing this blog. The most wonderful thing is that other people have found solace from reading my blog. I never thought I could help people in that way, but I'm unbelievably humbled by it. And that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. But that could also be from the wine...
So what is my point? Do I even have one?
I do!
My intention is to share what I've learned from my experience. I'm a real person who trips over her own feet, has nasty morning breath, makes mistakes (sometimes chains of mistakes), cries herself to sleep, laughs to the point of gasping for air, makes stupid decisions, has money problems, is lazy, wears glasses, is naive, and most of all, is slowly learning to accept her faults and grow into a better person.
I have to rebuild my life and figure out who I am again. If you care to follow me as I do so, you have my word that I will maintain integrity whilst mildly entertaining you at the same time. If you don't agree with me, that's okay too, as long as you understand that everyone deals with hardship in their lives differently. How many people criticized Oprah for sharing her story of abuse? Or Elizabeth Edwards for writing a book about her husband's affair? Am I different because I'm not a millionaire?
If you guessed that I've gotten some shit for what I've written, then you guessed correctly. What can I say? Haters gonna hate.
Let me be clear about something:
When I'm going through something difficult, I write. I don't know why I started doing it in the first place, but turns out, it makes me feel better.
Ok, sometimes a glass of wine or Grey Goose on the rocks makes me feel better too. But writing is obviously the healthiest option.
I also verbally share my experiences with others, which occasionally comes back to bite me in the ass, because I set myself up for harsh judgement. I'm beginning to learn that not everyone is going to like me or what I have to say. The intent of my blog is not to man-bash, destroy my ex's reputation, play the victim, or gain attention. As I've said before, I did not expect anyone to read what I've written.......except for my mom. Maybe an aunt or a cousin.
I've found solace in writing this blog. The most wonderful thing is that other people have found solace from reading my blog. I never thought I could help people in that way, but I'm unbelievably humbled by it. And that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. But that could also be from the wine...
So what is my point? Do I even have one?
I do!
My intention is to share what I've learned from my experience. I'm a real person who trips over her own feet, has nasty morning breath, makes mistakes (sometimes chains of mistakes), cries herself to sleep, laughs to the point of gasping for air, makes stupid decisions, has money problems, is lazy, wears glasses, is naive, and most of all, is slowly learning to accept her faults and grow into a better person.
I have to rebuild my life and figure out who I am again. If you care to follow me as I do so, you have my word that I will maintain integrity whilst mildly entertaining you at the same time. If you don't agree with me, that's okay too, as long as you understand that everyone deals with hardship in their lives differently. How many people criticized Oprah for sharing her story of abuse? Or Elizabeth Edwards for writing a book about her husband's affair? Am I different because I'm not a millionaire?
If you guessed that I've gotten some shit for what I've written, then you guessed correctly. What can I say? Haters gonna hate.
