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People will talk… won’t they?

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I need to make a confession about something that has been weighing heavily on my heart and mind.  Publishing my first blog post that revealed some of my innermost secrets and skeletons hidden deep inside my mental closet was a big deal for me… a REALLY BIG deal. I know I could have started my journey of sharing my story with guarded and reserved words – perhaps that would have been a safe and less painful path to take.   Instead, I ripped my bandages off quickly – no picking at the edges and wincing with each tiny pull.   I laid out the ugly, painful truth for the world to read… no tiptoeing or dancing around the brutal truth. Before posting, “my unveiling…” , I critiqued, read, and re-read the words that uncovered secrets from my past.   Each time I read over my post, I found myself feeling extremely proud of the words I had written, proud of myself, and of the newfound strength I had discovered.   I was proud of myself, but I was also incredibly nervous ab...
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The Perfect Disaster

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I have always wanted to write, and I am extremely passionate about sharing my story, but I often “get stuck” with my posts.  I sometimes wonder if I struggle with “finding the right words” because I am trying so hard to be PERFECT, but there  is NOTHING perfect about “my story”.   I think the only way to use the word “perfect”, would be to say my past, my journey, my story is a “perfect disaster”.  I often write with some very haunting words about being in an abusive relationship.  I may put off the impression that I “saw” how scary and damaging my marriage was, and maybe I did a little, but I did not truly see the extent of the damage when I left.  Truth be told, I did not leave because of the abuse.  I left because I discovered he had been having an affair with a close friend.  And after weeks of "trying" to convince myself that I could look past his infidelity, that I could FIX my marriage, I left the home we shared with the intentions of...
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Painted Walls

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“...I’ve tried time and time again To move on from who we were then. I’ve built walls and painted them, But it don’t matter where I live, You live on...” -Blue Suede Couch Lyrics from Song by Lacy Cavalier Thinking of all the walls that I have built and painted throughout my life…  I’ve let my “WALLS” down, and watched as chaos, ugliness, and demons attacked my heart and my love. I’ve tried putting up new walls, different than before.  Time and time again my walls were demolished. My walls now… well, they are jaded and hardened by numerous repairs.  There are parts that look as if they were meant to be part of a war scene - sloppy patched places, rubble still on the floor from whatever explosion tore the wall apart.  Other places are merely covered with a pretty picture, not truly repaired at all.   Each day is a new opportunity to repair myself, to repair the damage that has been done.  The scars I carry within are reminders of the abuse I have en...
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my little ditty...

When I started my journey of coming face-to-face with my past, I knew that I would one day share my story. What I did not know, was that sharing my story would play a major role in uncovering and healing from what I had experienced.

Rewind roughly nineteen years. I was a high school senior, barely eighteen, wide-eyed, gullible, and in love. I am sure you know where my story starts…the classic young and in love couple, thinking that nothing could break their bond. With our head in the clouds, against wishes and advice from loved ones, thinking we were some type of, “Jack & Diane”, we eloped in a randomly picked courthouse in Louisiana. Ironically, that courthouse was destroyed during Hurricane Katrina, and so was our marriage five years later.

It’s the chaos during those five years that resulted in me losing my identity and leaving me broken. Blindsided by verbal and mental abuse led me down the dark road of an unhealthy, abusive relationship and marriage.

Some might be wondering why I want to share my story. Why would anyone want to expose their darkest secrets to the world? For me, I am through bottling up corruptive and negative thoughts. I have awakened the beast of fear that I tucked away in the far corners of my mind, and now, I am ready to let that beast go, to move forward without fear. My hope is that of help, that my words comfort someone that has a beast of their own.