What a Buddhist Monk taught me about my divorce

Annie and I have finished up our volunteer work and are now traveling with a group to different islands. We usually have long rides to and from places. Sometimes when i’ve been exhausted enough sleep has come easily, but mostly trying to sleep is a joke. It’s fun though, I get to spend a lot of time talking to people, reading, writing whatever. To pass the time on our last ride I went through my laptop to delete old files, as traveling has quickly filled up my memory. 

I started from the beginning, which included files from when I was married.  My ex had downloaded his voice notes on my computer, which I was happy about because it included the conversations we had with the surgeons after Jon Gabriel was born. 

But in the voice notes I came across some recordings of a few fights we had been in. I hadn’t known I was being recorded at the time but looking back i’m grateful I was. 

When it became clear my marriage was going to end, I considered deleting all the photos/videos/everything except the Jon Gabriel time period, but I couldn’t get myself to completely erase all of it. Divorce was the right decision for the both of us, but the first few months after were really lonely and I occasionally found myself needing to go back through old files and journal entries, as reminders that it was indeed the best option. 

I read a book recently on how the brain processes the trauma of divorce and how it affects one’s mental and emotional wellbeing. It talked about divorce being similar to the death of a spouse in that the brain registers it as a loss, but it is harder to process because your brain fills in the holes with love for that person. Your consistently torn between knowing and forgetting why divorce was the best option. It's not them you miss, but the stability and identification that came with marriage. It's a dangerous road of thinking, one that can lead to a lot of darkness if you let it. 

Fast forward 2 years and just a few days ago, I was sitting in an english meditation class at the Wat Mattarat temple in Bangkok.  

During the class the monk talked about buddhist beliefs and that the goal in buddhism is to achieve ultimate freedom. That meditation allows your soul to let go of the worries and negativities of the mind and body, to release anything that doesn’t feel like freedom. 

So there I sat on the train, trying to clear my hard drive by going through 2 years worth of memories from my married life. A 2 year period that, while no one person is to blame for this, felt so much like the opposite of freedom. 

I thought about how not only were those 2 years flooding my hard drive, but unknowingly, they had been taking up other spaces in my life as well. Preventing my ability to fully embrace newer, fresher memories and experiences from taking place. 

With the old memories came a flood of old emotions. All at once, I wished I could go back and tell my younger self that everything was actually going to work out. That freedom was on it’s way. 

Not freedom from marriage itself. Not the freedom to “be single”. Being single has it's own set of drawbacks. 

But instead, the freedom to grow toward authenticity and happiness. For both of us.  

Freedom from opinions. Opinions of people who have no idea. 

Freedom from blame. From feeling the need to make one person the villain and the other the hero, in order for divorce to be a reasonable decision. 

Freedom to view that time period as nothing more than two people doing the best they could with the tools they were given. 

Freedom from a God or from people who would view it as anything but that. 

Freedom to make choices based on expectations of myself rather then expectations of others. 

Freedom to forgive, myself and others. To free myself from the past to create room for the future. 

And as I sat on the bus at 2 AM going through the old memories, I thought about what that monk had said. 

I had a million reasons why I thought holding onto the old pictures/memories might be useful. That it might help me remember what went wrong to avoid future heartache, or that it would be nice to be able to look back and see how far i’d come etc. 

“On your journey toward awakening,” he said, “Follow whatever path leads to greater freedom. Free yourself from all physical, mental, and emotional attachments and you will free yourself from suffering.” 

And with that, I deleted nearly every file from April 2012-July 2014.  

It as it turns out, this freed up more than just my hard drive. 

And you guys, i'll be on a plane home in 2 days. 

I knew i'd gain a lot from my time here in Thailand, I never anticipated how much I would let go in the process. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

What Thailand has taught me about my body

Before I came to Din Daeng to volunteer I wrote out some intentions of what I hoped to accomplish and learn while I was here. Both about myself and others. Which are of course, one in the same.

The learning and accomplishing is happening at a rapid speed. Too rapid. It's starting to take it's toll. And in the process, one unexpected issue has risen to the surface. One that is refusing to be ignored any longer. Which I hate and appreciate all at once.

For the past couple of years I have struggled with a negative body image. Surprise. I'm convinced 99% of women have this struggle. But it's become increasingly more and more of a problem in my life and in my progress.

I am not unaware of the irony behind the fact that i'm volunteering at a Women's Empowerment Center, while I have viewed and treated myself in a way that is extremely disempowering.

So the other night, my sister and I had spent the weekend visiting Koh Lorn island (we have weekends off during our time here as volunteers, which is very much needed).

We got a lot of time to ourselves, so I opened up to her about it. I admitted I have struggled with a border line eating disorder, and out of anyone I should know better. I majored in Exercise and Wellness in college. I'm a big believer in "self-love" being a cure all. I know how dangerous and life altering body shaming and therefore eating disorders can be. I know better. And somehow, it hasn't been enough.

Annie is smart. She knew this was indicative of a deeper issue, which I knew too, but it was nice to have someone else acknowledge it.

I have known deep down that solving this relationship with myself and my body would also heal other parts of my life as well. But i've been too distracted by all the unexpected turns my life has taken, that I haven't taken time to give this part of myself the care and attention it's needed.

It turns out living on the other side of the world creates the solitude that makes issues like this hard to ignore.

Through being in another country and volunteering in a culture so different from my own, i've learned the real issue has nothing to do with how I look. But it has everything to do with viewing myself through the eyes of a society whose version of "ideal" has a long way to go before it reaches what it means to be actually physically, mentally, and emotionally healthy. And the real problem is i've convinced myself that my worth was based on whether or not I looked like all the people in those shitty "female motivation" instagram and pinterest accounts that promoted this "ideal".

I have always believed people are more than their bodies. But for some reason I've made myself the exception when i'm actually the rule. We all are.

Working with the women and children at Good Shepherd Sisters (The Women's Empowerment Center) has made all of this abundantly clear. They all come from backgrounds of poverty or abuse. Sometimes both.

Their stories are horrifying and their bravery is exemplary. How far apart their thighs are or whether or not they have a six pack is so low on the priority list it's laughable.

And it feels enormously hypocritical to be dedicated to helping them see their self worth while in turn refusing to acknowledge my own.

Being here has taught me that one thing is for certain: We shouldn't just quit telling ourselves that we aren't enough simply because it's hurting us..

We should quit telling ourselves we aren't enough because it's NOT TRUE.

So here's to being more generous toward our ourselves. Especially our bodies.

Oh and first things first. I unfollowed every single social media account that promotes a version of "health" that has anything to do with six packs or size zero's or anything of the sort.

Basically anything that paints "healthiness" as being purely about one's appearance.

I have a feeling I won't be missing out.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Thailand so far

Whenever I'm lucky enough to get a solid wifi connection here (which is almost never) I find myself scrolling through Instagram and pictures from home, just to be reminded of everything my current situation isn't.

 This morning helping at the daycare was anything but glamorous. It was full of runny noses and sand and mud and changing babies and forgetting again and again how to say that one Thai phrase that gets the toddlers to stop trying to scratch each others eyes out. I stopped counting my bug bites after I passed number 50, it's hotter than hell here, and the humidity makes doing my hair or makeup and expecting it to last, a total joke. I thought being a nanny meant I know things about taking care of kids and then watching these kick ass Thai women get into their routine of caring for 8+ babies over and over and over makes me realize I don't know anything compared to them. But l have surprised myself with how patient I can be even when I'm overheating and can't get away from screaming kids. I fell in love with those same screaming toddlers quicker than I thought I would. They're the exact age Jon Gabriel would've been, so how could I not??

Anyway it's now our lunch break. I take a quick nap on the tile floor and wonder how in the hell I'm going to make it even one more day, none the less 2 MORE WEEKS. 

I think about how perfect my Instagram feed looks compared to my current situation, me laying on the ground in my volunteer shirt (we wear the same one everyday) that is covered in sweat and stains of who the hell knows what, with literally ants crawling up my leg, knowing I only have a couple of mins left before the chaos starts all over again. 

Lunch ends and we start teaching English to the women.  This is my favorite time but also more difficult than expected. I make a fool of myself as usual and we all laugh pretty hard and I'm starting to enjoy being around these women more and more. I'm the one writing out the colors and the days of the week in English, but through they're fierce loyalty to each other and to the babies and children that aren't even their own, they are the ones teaching me more than I'll ever teach them. 

I realize that with their little bits of English and my tiny, tiny bits of Thai, we can have somewhat simple conversations. I find out that every single woman in this part of the day care are pregnant (even the 15 year old). I ask if they have other children. Some do, some don't. I show them pictures on my phone from my life back home. They love it. The snow is fascinating to them. I even showed them a picture of Jon Gabriel. It was fun seeing their reactions to how cute he is. That is until I mentioned he died. Of course it was uncomfortable. I knew it would be. I did it anyway. 

On the way home another volunteer tells me stories of some of the kids in the daycare and the troubled homes they come from. I realize some of their behaviors do exhibit that of abuse victims. I hear about the sex trades some of the women came from and the fact that prostitution is considered normal for most women in the mid-lower class after they reach a certain age. I thought about the little 3 year old girls in the day care, so bright for their age and so curious about the world. I thought about the whole reason i'm here to begin with, as a volunteer for the women's empowerment center, Good Shepherd Sisters, and how the goal is to give women and their children a fair shot at life, a shot that would normally be taken from them. 

It's all getting to be too much and i'm starting to get emotional, but I know I have to keep it together until our cab drops us off and I can go hide up in my room. Annie gets home right as the other 3 volunteers and I pull up. She tells me about her experience at the orphanage. Babies tied up inside their cribs everyday. Today they were screaming all at once, basically begging to be held, but for whatever reason, they wouldn't let them out. Some of them are as old as 5. They should be in kindergarten, not tied inside a crib day in and day out. 

These orphans only get let out and handed to the volunteers for only a couple of hours some days, which means they stay in their cribs for 22 hours straight after that. A lot of them have been labeled as autistic, (as if you can decide that at such a young age) and therefore will never be allowed to be adopted. There seems to be no end to the horror stories that can be told in one day. But then there's also the good stories. The ones about the workers that go above and beyond their duty everyday to help the children at the orphanage, and the nuns at the women's empowerment center that are providing a better future to hundreds of women and children every single day. The stories about the women and children dedicated to helping each other. There's hope. There always is. 

I finally walk up 3 stories to get to my room, I lay on the bed, crank the AC, and open up my Instagram feed again. Somehow, it's lost its appeal. 

This post isn't some commitment to a social media fast, or a call to be more "real" or whatever. I love the creativity that comes with logging your life through photos and experiences and whatever. I just think it's important to recognize that there are a thousand words that pictures DON'T tell. 

Now onto tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Goodbye for now

I'm leaving soon. Dec 19th soon. I'll be in Belize for a couple of weeks with my aunt and uncle and cousins, and then Annie and I leave on a volunteer trip to Thailand the day after I get back. 

I'll be gone for 9 weeks. Which is a long time. It's also not a long time. I'm torn between knowing i'll miss people to knowing I won't want to come back when the time comes.

A lot can happen in 9 weeks.

A few months ago when Annie brought up going to serve in Thailand, I knew with a little help, I could make it work. 

There is an energy that comes with leaving. Leaving and returning.

Maybe that's why inspiration is so often found by leaving your home grounds, by switching up your routine.  

For that reason, i've decided to put everything on hold and go for awhile.

Because the past few months, I've felt stuck.

Sometimes I feel like i'm in pain for no reason.

Actually, my marriage ended.

 That's a good reason.

But here's a side effect of divorce that might seem obvious..

You second guess the hell out of everything.

Not just the divorce itself (you second guess that too for awhile), but every relationship or job or any decision, you lose all confidence in your ability to choose. Choose who to invest time in and who to not and what to reveal and what to not.

It's fair though. When you get married, when you have a kid, when you view the world one way and then it all takes a major 180 within just a short amount of time..

Feeling skeptical is the only thing that feels normal after awhile. 

But there's no doubt that's part of being human. Allowing yourself to be in pain but still fighting like hell not to let it harden you. Not to let the dashed hopes and failed expectations and abused trust make you bitter.

And i've felt a little bitter lately, toward the pain i'm still in.  Mostly wishing so much that it wasn't there anymore.

That I could say "Yeah I'm totally over it", and mean it.

But that journey toward trying to "be over it" has led me to explore different jobs and hobbies and relationships.

To do things and become things I wouldn't otherwise. Things I'm proud of. 

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my friend Amanda about it. We work together, and she's become one of my close friends. Amanda is a lot of things, but she's definitely a healer. 

Not that anyone else can do that for you. But people can point you in the right direction I think. That's what she does.

On a day that had been particularly bad I told her how I have what feels like leftover emotion that I sort of carry around with me and it stresses me out.

I told her I was having a hard time getting rid of it. That I felt stuck.

She understood. She takes on unwanted emotions too sometimes. She has anxiety attacks over it sometimes too. She knows.

She talked about how what is happening on the outside is a direct reflection of what is going on inside us. That people we meet can bring out the things that have been left unhealed.

She said people are messengers in disguise. Messengers that tell you what work you have left to do. Where you still need to nurture yourself.

It was at that moment that the pain i'm wishing would go away went from being the problem, to the solution. The solution toward everything I want, which is to feel whole again. So that I can help other people feel whole. 

"Maddie, you know what I think?" she asked. 

"What?"

"Your life is about to get, really, really good. Let it."

And the more my life unfolds, the more I realize, she's right.

To my friends who have experienced divorce, to the ones who know the empty darkness and bitter loneliness that follows you constantly from the moment your marriage ends,

it gets better. 

It really, really does.

But first it's gonna be hell. And you're gonna feel crazy.

Because you are.

 It's crazy to take a step away from comfort and familiarity (despite how much hurt and unhappiness come with it), and toward growth.

Toward pain.

Toward the unknown.

It's crazy to make a choice that sets you apart from the majority and makes you apart of a minority.

But i'll tell you what, you're the good kind of crazy.

And I promise you, it will get better.

And until it does, don't stay home alone every night.

Reach out. Message me, message someone.

I don't know how helpful I can be from the other side of the world, but i'll sure try. 

No matter what, you have people that love you and people that care.

Speaking of that.

Thank you to my parents for their help in making the Thailand trip a reality. 

Also thank you to my Aunt and Uncle for inviting me to Belize with them.

And you guys, thanks so much for all of you who let me take your pics! 

Oh my. 

It's been so fun. Fun doesn't describe it. Soon i'll write a blog post to describe it. All the stunning people. All the new friends. 

Thanks for letting me step into your lives for a little bit. 

It changed mine for the better. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

A win-win

How cute is this family??? This is going to be a lot of random info that is probably TMI, but I promise I'm going to get to what these pics are and why ^^^ just stick with me ;)

Ever since my life went the opposite direction it was supposed to, ever since I went from having a small family of my own to living by myself, I've struggled with finding purpose in basically anything.

I turn 24 in the next few weeks, and it reminds me of my birthday last year when I blogged about what I hoped year 23 would be.

 I never thought it would be the year I'd endure the biggest identity crisis.

I expected a lot of things, but not that.

Now that I've had to redefine my life, and how I want it to look, I've struggled to find meaning in day to day things.

Ever since I can remember, I've had at least one or two jobs at a time, and I've found each job to be rewarding for different reasons. But lately any sort of desk job makes me feel completely empty inside.

It turns out that emptiness, is a message in of itself.

While year 23 was the year I had my foundation swept from under me, it's turning out to be the year I'm slowly finding what really matters to me.

This year, I learned to listen to myself.

I learned to stop doing something because it sounds good to others, and find things that sound good to me.

I've learned not to excuse things that don't feel right, just because the majority says it's right.

It turns out that when you learn to listen to yourself, the self that was there before it was told to be anything else, it actually makes you more capable of helping other humans.

The ones who have forgotten how to listen to themselves, or their inner self is telling them things others don't want to hear.

Self love may be more selfless than we think.

So as I've listened to that "voice" we are all trying to be familiar with, I'm continuing to discover the things that make me feel alive.

The things that bring back feeling and purpose to my existence here as a 23 (almost 24) year old human.

The vision that keeps me going late into the night and into the early hours of the morning.

I've learned to follow those things, and not spend a second settling for anything less.

And I realize they all have one thing in common:

They allow me to take a step out of my world and into someone else's.

Service. Nannying. Photography. Videography. Writing.

It allows me to understand others and then create things that will improve their world.

And it turns out when you're looking for the opportunity to step into someone else's world, you'll always find it.

A few months ago Annie told me she wanted to do a service trip out of the country, and she didn't want to go alone.

I wasn't sure I could make it happen.

Then I realized, I can make anything happen.

So we pulled some strings and saved some pennies and now we're so close to getting there.

Annie found an opportunity in Bangkok, Thailand that we couldn't turn down. She'll be in an orphanage there, and i'll be at the Women's Empowerment center.

There is such a huge need for volunteers at the center there, as many of the teenagers and young women have left situations of abuse or neglect. A lot of them are single mom's with no place to go. We'll provide emotional support, English lessons, childcare, and pre/post partum care.

To raise money for it, I'm offering to take your pictures!

$25 for an hour.

I had 5 shoots last weekend and they were so much fun! Above are some pictures from the first one.

How perfect is baby Kennedy?????? 

She's even more stunning in person, trust me.

Guys, let's do a photo/video shoot.

I promise you'll love the result, and, in a round about way, so will the young women in Thailand.

It's a win-win.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

"If this is what love feels like, I want no part of it"

“Whenever I think of the word “empathy,” I think of a small boy named Huckleberry Finn contemplating his friend and runaway slave, Jim. Huck asks himself whether he should give Jim up or not. Huck was told in Sunday school that people who let slaves go free go to everlasting fire.” But then, Huck says he imagines he and Jim in “the day and nighttime, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a-floating along, talking and singing and laughing.” Huck remembers Jim and their friendship and warmth. He imagines Jim not as a slave but as a human being and he decided that, “alright, then, I’ll go to hell.” 
– This I Believe, 172

The truth is, at this point of my life I know less now than I ever have. 

I can't say I know what will happen in the next realm. I don't know that God would put obedience to laws over people needing love. I don't know that the world is as black and white as we like to believe. I don't know that confirmation bias isn’t very much a thing. I don’t know a lot of things, but to me it's means there are more possibilities than I could ever imagine.

Here’s what I do know: 

I do know that I love my LDS roots. I do know that I love, so much, the ward members and leaders and family and friends that helped me become who I am today. I do know that the love of God, in whatever context God is, is very real. I do know that it is enough. 

And it will always be enough. 

The people who say differently, are the same people that preach about Christ’s crucifixion thousands of years ago as if it’s something that happened as opposed to something that is currently happening. 

We don’t serve those around us who are suffering only because Jesus told us to. We serve them because JESUS was once the one suffering. 

To me it doesn’t make a lot of sense to worship Jesus in church, while He’s outcast on the street.

Is it not true that God is in each one of us? That when the bibles says“the kingdom of God is within you” it is meant to be taken literally? 

So when I read the news and see the loneliness in people’s eyes and hear the heartache in their stories, I realize that I don’t have to go back to Nazereth to find Jesus. He’s everywhere. He’s in the halls at school and work. He’s on our Facebook feed. He's in the teenagers and adults that are are now contemplating suicide. He’s in every single human being you’ve ever encountered, because every person was made in His image. 

And we may not all be living on the streets, but we are all in poverty of some sort. Poverty of hope. Poverty of peace. Poverty of love. 

And so the least we can do, if we are to describe ourselves as disciples of Christ, is not add to  each other's pain. 

And friends, this policy that has been implemented, adds to the pain. Very much so. 

I like to think that when it comes to recognizing Jesus’s voice, the higher law, the law of love, it is very simple. When it comes to our treatment of people, of Jesus in all forms, the simple way is the correct way. 

Have you noticed how complicated this policy has made things? 

People say it's out of love. That it's "saving" people from greater sin. 

But based off your Facebook feed the past few weeks, how loved do you think people actually feel?

Most of the people who say they are at peace with the new policy aren't ones that the policy actually affects. All this has seemed to accomplish is division. 

Here is a prime example of what should be the simple answer becoming the (very) complicated answer:

When attempted murder, forcible rape, and sexual and spousal abuse fall under the times when a disciplinary council "might" be necessary, and same-gender marriage and joining another church fall under the times it would be"mandatory".. We know we need to rethink our priorities. 

The statement above is why a gay friend of mine posted recently: 

“If this is what love feels like, I want no part of it.” 

Friends. This policy, this approach. This is not what loves feels like to me. I hope you’ll respect that. 

I hope we can agree to disagree. Because all of this talk, this pin pointing why people are wrong, and arguing and reaffirming theories and ideas and reasons. 

That’s A LOT of energy that could be used toward ACTUALLY loving our fellow brothers and sisters. Toward ACTUALLY learning to be more kind, compassionate and patient. 

The second you judge something, is the second you are no longer committed to understanding it. I get that you feel like Jesus judged. I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on who he judged. Because the Jesus I study, judged the prideful, the hypocrites, the priests that spent their time condemning those who (according to them) wouldn't qualify for the kingdom of heaven. 

Rather then defend ideas I can’t prove, i’d rather defend actual humans. The ones that look how Christ looked. How Christ looks. The ones who are currently experiencing this beautiful and hell filled life alongside me. 

And maybe instead of focusing on all the reasons gay marriage is ungodly (despite the fact that God made people that way), I think our time could be better spent focusing on things that are actually ungodly. Things like the seven deadly sins: 

pride. lust. gluttony. laziness. wrath. envy. greed. 

Everything else is just a really great way to take the focus off our own flaws and point out everyone else’s. It’s what Jesus spoke so openly against. It’s what other spiritual leaders have called the “ego.” It’s what is happening when we put ourselves up on pedestals, and condemn those whose views we don’t agree with. 

It’s what I see when I read sarcastic Facebook statuses about how people are "overreacting" to the church’s stance because now that the church has reasons everyone else's feelings must be invalid. 

It’s what I see when I see that article circling Facebook titled: “Quit pretending like Christ was accepting of everyone and everything”. 

It’s what I see when I see posts saying “I’m confused why people care so much about children not being able to get baptized when they don’t even believe everything the church teaches.” 

I’m confused at your confusion. We aren't talking about just any organization here. We are talking about what is believed to be the the ONLY true church of the almighty God. The God who created EVERY single person in His image, and wants ALL of them to obtain salvation.

And people aren't allowed to have an opinion on it? They aren’t allowed to step in when they see their fellow humans being mistreated, and say that they don’t think an all powerful, and all loving God would be this discriminatory? Especially of his LGBTQ children acting in the way He created them? 

The saying goes “To find out who rules over you, look at who you are not allowed to criticize.” 

I’m blown away at how many people are saying we shouldn’t be criticizing the church, even if it is in defense of other human beings. The ones that are poor in hope and poor in peace and poor in love. The ones that are Jesus. 

So yes, I have taken your advice. I’ve read the articles and watched the videos you've posted and i’ve taken the issue to the Lord. I’ve prayed about the ideas, and asked for peace and clarity about the new policy. My God must be telling me different things than yours, and to me that’s okay. I think every human beings walk with God is going to look different. We're not meant to agree on everything, but we are meant to love. 

And because i’ve taken your advice and i’ve prayed about it, there’s something i’d like to ask you to pray about. When you say your prayers, ask God how your fellow humans are feeling. Ask what their experience is in all of this. Ask what’s it’s like to feel like who you are is secondary. That it requires a "mandatory" council to determine if you aren't worthy of being in God's presence again, even though you're loving the way God created you to. 

Next time you pray, will you pray to know how that would feel? I think learning to feel and view life through another’s perspective is the closest we will get to God on this side. 

And if that’s not the case, if that’s not what God cares about most.. Heaven isn’t a place I want to be. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Will you come?

I had the chance to experience another world this past weekend, and ever since, my world looks a lot different.

Lately, I feel like i'm drowning in emptiness. Like i've lost a part of me and I consistently feel like i'm on the verge of falling apart for no reason.  It's not a surprise to me that I feel empty a lot. Just a few years ago I was married and becoming a mom. I was in school and working with my best friends. I was living 15 mins from my family and saw them a few times a week. I was doing exactly what I was told I should do, and I was unhappy, but I was busy.

A year later I was still at BYU. I was in charge of a divorce support group on campus, I was living by all my friends and making new ones everyday. I was happy, but I was feeling myself start to change and become someone others wouldn't recognize. Yet I was surrounded by familiarity. There's something comforting about that.

But now it's just me again and the familiarity I used to know, no longer brings good feelings. All it brings is stress and anxiety. And suddenly, I'm in uncharted territory.

But slowly, i'm beginning to find things that make me come alive again. My cousin and I were talking about depression last night. How it's like a shadow that never really goes away, but if the shadow didn't exist there would be no reason to fight against it. Without a shadow, we'd have no reason to try.

And i've discovered that one of the most effective ways to fill the emptiness (at least for a moment), is to step out of my reality, and step into someone else's. It turns out when I take a step into another person's world, my shadows stay at the door. They don't follow me there.

So when I had a couple of friends post about a service project in Colorado City and Hildale, UT, benefiting the FLDS community, I knew I would end up going. I had watched a few documentaries on polygamy and Warren Jeffs and his corrupted leadership. It's sickening, learning from victims and hearing what certain members of the FLDS have had to endure. 

The more you read stories within the community, it seems there is no end to the horror. The religion has changed significantly since Jeffs took over, including commandments geared toward child labor, kids not able to play with toys, the church claiming ownership of every child that is born within the faith and taking the kids away from their parents and redistributing them to other families. Sex abuse. Priesthood holders taking advantage of other men's wives. And that doesn't even brush the surface.

Most of the community don't know they are victims. They have been brainwashed to believe Jeffs is speaking to them through God. They blame the "evil" of the world for his prison sentence, and pray for his release one day.

But there are some. The "apostates". The ones that want to leave their faith and reclaim their families, fight against the abuse and take their power back. The problem is, the exflds have nowhere to go. Choosing to leave the faith is akin to social suicide, and they have no resources to live on their own. Their religious community has controlled every part of what they know and who they've become. They have to start completely from scratch and a lot of them don't have the ability to do so.

The more I read about it, the more I knew I would end up going to help. I texted a friend I knew would want to go, but because it was so last minute, she couldn't make it work. I was going alone. 

I drove through the night. I put adele's new song on repeat, kept the window rolled down and watched the empty, moon lit road. The drive went quicker than I expected.

You guys.

Short creek (Colorado City and Hildale, UT) is a whole different world. It's a homie little town and everything looks the same. As you drive through the roads you see every house is incomplete, and there is a little bit of eeriness to it. Knowing they are forced to view the world a certain way. But there are a lot of beautiful parts as well. There always are. 

Over 50 volunteers were there to help. Some of the greatest people you'll ever meet. We spent the whole day renovating a house for refugees who have been forced to leave their living spaces, after being deemed apostates or simply not faithful enough. The goal was that by the end of the weekend, they'd have a place where they could not only survive, but thrive. 

I spent the first half of the day helping on the roof, and the second half organizing the hundreds of thousands of donations that were received.

Toothbrushes, hygiene kits, diapers, towels, blankets, shampoo, soap, notebooks and school supplies. It was overwhelming, seeing how generous people had been.

And besides going off no sleep, it was so much fun. The other people I worked with were the best. I haven't laughed that hard in a long, long time.

But as always it was difficult too. Occasionally you'd see the children, in long dresses or pants and long sleeved, button up shirts. They'd stare at us from behind the fence or from their yards. To them, we weren't friends. We were outsiders.

It hurt seeing them. Knowing only a little of what their world is like, but wanting to know more. Their circumstance and background may look different, but they are ours. They are our kids. There is no such thing as other people's children. We are all each other's. And I felt that as I watched them. I felt myself wondering what it would feel like if that was one of my own. It hurt. It hurt a lot. 

Later we went to the rally against corruption. That's the only place I got any pics. You can read an article about it here. 

A lot of people at the rally were people either living in short creek or from the area. They have roots that go back to the flds faith and to the short creek community. It is their home, and it's devastating to them to see it taken over by malicious leaders. Their commitment to fighting for change was refreshing. It's nice when you meet people you know nothing about, but because you share the same vision, you're instant friends. It was nice seeing their vision. It was nice to step into their world, if only for a moment. 

So I went hoping to help change the short creek community, but instead, it changed me. There's still so much to be done there. There's so much help needed. Which is good, because I believe a lot of us need it. A lot of us need to take a step into their reality. A lot of us need to let it broaden our vision and help us love the people in our lives a little better. A lot of us need to let it change our worlds. 

And I promise you, it will. 

There is another service trip going to short creek in April. 

Will you come? 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

"Are you happy?"

hikes up cottonwood canyon ^

One of my favorite things about blogging is hearing from people i've never met in person or that I haven't heard from in awhile. I love when people reach out. I love that when the foundation is love and respect, we can always find common ground. Sometimes humans are difficult, but for the most part people fascinate me and I find myself able to learn from everyone I come in contact with. 

Lately, in my conversations with people, i've learned something about happiness. 

I've been asked a lot, "Are you happy?” 

For the most part, I think what is really being asked is, “Are you doing the things that bring you true happiness?" 

It’s a question we’re all used to. We’re wired to pursue happiness. Whether it’s temporary satisfaction, or the long term joy that comes from fulfilling our goals, finding deeper meaning, and creating a life we love.  

The problem is, this constant search for happiness causes us to turn our back on the other parts of the puzzle. The parts that are just as important:

Sadness. Disappointment. Rejection. 

The kind of heartache you can feel in your bones. 

The kind that destroys you piece by piece, and causes you to come completely undone.  

But in the end, it's exactly what leads you to grow, expand, and become reborn. 

Everyone talks about how pain makes us stronger but as soon as something becomes painful we try to fluff it up with words like “cheer up” and “move on” and “at least”. 

It’s a beautiful thing to embrace the light, but in the process, you shouldn't fear the darkness.

Fearing the darkness, the nitty gritty things that can be tedious and uncomfortable and scary, it's the quickest way to create a life everyone else is proud of vs what you're proud of. 

That’s why to me, the ultimate goal isn't happiness.

It’s wholeness. 

When the goal is wholeness, we learn to live our truth whether or not it’s making us happy all the time. 

Because sometimes, living your truth means knowing people don't approve of the choices you make. 

Sometimes it means acknowledging that all the feelings, the happy ones and the painful ones, they matter. 

And sometimes, it means being willing to let go of the things that no longer feed your soul and allow you to be your best self. 

Wholeness doesn’t always = joy. 

But then again, things like growth and truth, they don’t always = joy either. 

And it’s a good thing too. I’ve never found a real, meaningful connection with someone by talking about how easy and wonderful life is. 

We connect on the hard stuff. The stuff that has destroyed us and led us to becoming stronger, deeper, and a little less cold. 

So it’s okay to ask yourself from time to time, are you happy? 

But Hugh Mackay said it best when he said “What we should really be asking ourselves is, “Is this contributing to my wholeness? And if you’re having a bad day. It is.” 

So are you having a bad day? 

That might not be such a bad thing after all. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

The problem and the solution

In 2nd grade, I loved almost everything about school. Everything except a girl, we'll call her Gladice. Gladice was a bully.

Gladice was loud and obnoxious and scary. She'd make fun of me in front of the other kids. Nearly everyday, she would cut me in line and pull my hair and step on my shoes. I really didn't like her. 

Then I remember one day, during recess, she pushed me on the ground and she got really close so I could see every detail on her face. For some reason in that moment, I felt sorry for her. Seeing her like that. It's hard to hate a person once you see enough details about them. Unfortunately, we tend to withdraw from details. When people ask "how are you?" we say "fine". Details can be uncomfortable. 

But sometimes, even when we're not looking, the details reveal themselves. It was soon after that I learned she came from a poor home and her dad abused her.

At seven years old, I learned there's always more to the story.

And now when I see my Facebook feed filled with articles about bullying, I'm glad to see the  discussion is started on how we can help protect kids from bullies. 

But I think in our search for answer we are missing a major point: 

Kids aren't the problem.

Adults are the problem. 

 Kids don't act how we ask them to act at church or school. They act how they see us act. They want to be like the grown ups. They just aren't as tactful about it. 

The most bullied kids today are the ones that look different and talk different and maybe come from a country or background we don't understand.  And I bet it's safe to say those same type of adults, are the ones that feel the most bullied also. 

If you subconsciously (which always ends up becoming conscious) reject people that look or think or act different from you, if you view these people as a threat, your kids will learn to fear those that are different from them. 

And people hurt what they fear.

The good news is, that while we are the problem, we're also the solution. If we want kids to be kinder, the answer starts with us. 

Today, October 15th, is the day dedicated to breaking the silence behind pregnancy and infant loss. On this day, in honor of Jon Gabriel, I want to commit to being less of the problem. Because today if I'm asking to be understood, I want to do my part to understand. 

So I wrote a letter. A letter of what I would tell Jon Gabriel if he was here, right in front of me, listening. 

It's a letter committed to change. And change starts with me. 

Jon Gabriel, 

Today, our world honors one of the most precious days. The day where there is awareness raised toward the mothers and fathers who have had to give their babies back. This is a special day, baby boy. It's the day the world decided that even though infant death and grief and details are scary and uncomfortable and a little daunting at times, it will no longer back away in discomfort and fear. Instead it has decided to say, "I'm here. And even though what you have to share might make me a little uncomfortable and I might not be able to understand, I can certainly try." And suddenly all the parents out there, the ones who have suffered the heartache of having one of their precious babies die too soon, they become recognized. And sometimes, that's all it takes for someone to find their voice and start to use it. 

And you'll never believe the beautiful things that can happen when people use their voice and share their truth with others, baby. So while the world might not understand how painful pregnancy and infant loss is on a mother, on a parent, the world is trying. And that's all we can ask for, really. Trying will always be enough. 

Today I unite with parents of angel babies all around the world. These are pretty special people. I've had the privilege of meeting some of them, and I get to spend the rest of my life meeting more. I'm lucky.
And tonight, we'll light candles and remind the world that you and many other angel babies exist. And just like the burning candle, my love for you continues to burn. Except unlike that candle, my love for you will never die. 

But I have a confession to make. I didn't understand love until you came into the world. What I first learned about love came from Disney movies and romantic comedies. I thought love was what you felt when a cute boy with long eyelashes would sit by you at lunch and compliment your hair. As I got older I understood love as being willing to sacrifice for the people that you care about. And now, love is so much more than all of that. 

Because love isn't the pretty, glorified, happily ever after, we are often led to believe. Love is connection. And connection can be painful. Because in order for connection to exist, there has to be empathy. And empathy requires taking a step out of your world and into another. Can you think of anything scarier and more exhilarating than that? It takes courage to set aside everything you think you know, and listen to the person in front of you. In other words empathy means getting your hands dirty. And sometimes, the thought of that makes people too uncomfortable. That's why you won't feel connected to everyone you meet. That's okay. Not everyone is meant to jive with you. 

You see, i've learned we don't love people because we feel connected with them, we love them because we are connected to them. We admire people that we feel connected to. But we love people because they are apart of us. We are all apart of each other. When we reject those that are different, we reject a part of ourselves. And the more time we spend denying that, the more we fear those around us and criticize those that view things differently than we do, the less connected we'll feel.  

It took me 23 years to learn that humanity is connected on a level not easily understood. Christ made it clear He knew this when He said "what you do unto others, you do unto me". He understood that we are all an extension of one source, of love itself, which is God. 

And i've learned that just like you get closer to people by getting to know their kids, God is no different. You want to feel closer to God? You do so through the hearts of His children. 

And just like there are parts of me in you, Jon Gabriel, there are parts of God in each of us. And a life dedicated to love is a life dedicated to finding God in each person. 

I feel sad when I think of all the opportunities I missed to do that, the times when I felt like I was somehow better than other people because of the way I viewed the world. Those times when I talked about being tolerant but not too tolerant. I feel sad for the times when it felt safer to put people into categories rather than try and understand them as individuals. 

But that's the beautiful part about being human. We do the best we can until we know better. And then once we know better, we do better. 

I know better now, baby. I'm not perfect at it. Sometimes I judge judgey people. But even the judgey ones need love and understanding. People do what they do for a lot of reasons. It's best not to judge. 

And Gladice, the girl that bullied other kids and was always out to hurt. She wasn't out to hurt because she was evil. She was out to hurt because she was hurting. She needed love.  As one of my favorite authors, Glennon Melton, has said "Sometimes the people that need help look a lot like the people that don't need help." I wish I understood that back then.

Because of you Jon Gabriel, I got a glimpse of love i've never known before. And sometimes I feel a hole in my heart that's exactly the size and shape of your little body. And a lot of times it hurts like hell. But the love that flows from that, the love that comes from the hearts of all mothers and fathers who have had to grieve the loss of their littles, it has more power to change the world than anything i've ever known. 

So today, today is the day I allow my grief to make me more loving. More understanding. More capable of choosing not to weep over Christ being crucified thousands of years ago, and instead weep over the fact that he is still being crucified today. He is being crucified in every person that is feeling outcast, alone, and misunderstood. 

Today i'm committed to seeking those people out. The Gladice's of the world, they need us. They need to know how much they matter. Can you imagine if they knew? 

Can you imagine? 

Love, 

Mom

♥♥♥♥♥♥

P.S. Thanks for reading.  

Let's find some common ground

Here’s the deal. I’m going to share some thoughts that might not fall under your umbrella of beliefs completely. 

And I need you to do me just one favor: don’t shut me out. 

Because the thing is, 

I need you. Most of you.

Yes this blog allows me to voice things i’ve learned and experienced, and the more I write the more I feel the need to write. And I really appreciate you tolerating that. 

But those of you who have been there all along.. I know who you are. And I value your input and the connection we have.

 At times you've reached out to me saying what i’ve said on here has made a difference in your life at some point. 

But here’s another fact that's even more important: each one of you, has made a difference in mine. Your support, whether public or behind the scenes, I feel it. My view toward you won't change whether or not we see the world from the same lens. 

Now if you do take offense easily, this would be the point where you should stop reading. Because I can't go the rest of my life without splitting open a bit, and saying what i’ve felt deep down for a long, long time. 

While it's sad to think I might lose some of you over this, I guess I'm worried about losing myself more. And this space of mine, it’s me. And like I said in my last post, authenticity is a daily practice. The more I go through life, the more I crave it. 

And I think people can still jive without having to agree on everything. Hopefully you see it that way too. If you don’t, I guess we were never meant to jive anyway. 

So, I went to Cali a few weeks ago. I've had a few people ask “do you live in cali now?” because I seem to post about being in california a lot. The answer to that is no. I don’t. Not even close. I wish I did. I just am lucky enough to have family, the Gorey’s, that go a lot and they invite me along. I’m lucky. 

We stayed at the Demetria Winery guest house located in the middle of the most beautiful vineyard you’ve ever seen. 

And of course, I accidentally left my camera battery charging in our hotel room in vegas. so I couldn’t use my camera the whole time I was there. I did take a few pics on my phone (above). 

But after being there I realized there are some things that even the best camera can't capture, and spending all your time trying just means missing the beauty of all of it. So maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing I was cameraless for a whole weekend. Or maybe i’m just trying to make myself feel better. Probably the latter. 

Now here’s where the honesty comes in. For the past few months, I’ve come to view the world in a way I never have. 

They say that suffering introduces you to yourself and reminds you that you're not the person you thought you were. Maybe losing my son and my marriage were a catalyst to where i’m at. 

Some people might feel sorry for me because of it. But I don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t see it as coincidental and I’m forever grateful for that. It has allowed me to reach a place where I can love in the best way I know how. I need that. I think we all need that for ourselves. 

And I appreciate that authenticity is freeing and empowering at times. But often times it means losing people that only value you as much as you agree with them. 

And that’s what i’ve felt recently. Yes, being real is a good way to weed out the people that hear your story and judge you for it. 

But it’s also kind of depressing in the process. It’s hard when people you love make it clear their love for you is contingent on you meeting certain criteria. 

But it’s life. I can’t control how other people view me, and worrying about it is the best way to get nowhere, fast. But it’s okay to be sad over it, I think. 

So that first morning in the vineyard, I woke up at the crack of dawn. It’s only on vacations that I can’t sleep past 6 AM. Which is crazy considering I have a hard time waking up before 8 AM on regular days. 

 I got ready to go for a run and as soon as I stepped outside I felt a rush that only comes when you're surrounded by nothing except trees and hills and vines. Nature is powerful. That’s why I try and spend as much time in it as I can. 

After awhile I decided to stop and gather my thoughts because everything was weighing on me, in that moment. Knowing that certain people in my life wouldn’t accept me, especially if they knew everything about me. That I wouldn’t fall under their criteria as righteous and steadfast, and that somehow that made me less of a person. I was feeling the weight of all of that. I’ve always found praying out loud to be a good way to get my thoughts together. 

So you guys. I stood in the middle of this big vineyard and I said a prayer. Right then and there. 

I let God, in whatever form He is, know that I was open to being wrong about where i’m at. But that it doesn’t feel wrong. That it feels freeing in a way. That the world has never been black and white to me, and now that I have stepped outside the box and have seen life from another perspective, things feel so much more clear. 

Finally I said, “If there’s something you’d like me to know, now is the perfect time to tell me.” 

I closed my eyes and basked in the silence, literally not a sound from all angles. 

And I felt complete peace. I felt a sense of familiarity in a way, like deep down I always knew I’d make it to this point. 

That's when I opened my eyes and looked toward the ground, and I saw next to my left shoe was a rock.  A rock in the shape of a perfect heart. I picked it up and immediately my mind knew:  

It’s about love. It always has been. 

And the thing is, that’s what i’ve felt deep down since I can remember. And at times, i’ve ignored this statement. I’ve allowed myself to care more about how i’m appearing to be as opposed to how I actually view and treat others. 

But the reality is that love is the whole reason we are here.  

And that’s why I have a hard time especially recently with certain political, religious, and societal viewpoints. 

I’ve never found peace in the “Us vs Them” mentality. 

The good people vs. the evil people. 

To me all I hear from these view points is “this is what I think it means to be a good person” and then the others side saying “Well this is what I think it means to be a good person” and then you’ve got people that are on the “Lord’s side” or on the “Equal rights for everyone” side and those on “Satan’s side” and I believe splitting people into categories is just a lot more complicated than that. 

 I don’t do categories. Not for humans. All categories do is divide. And humans are bigger than that, I think. 

Because sometimes the meanest people are actually disguised as the God worshiping people. And sometimes the "sinful" ones, the ones that dress different and drink different things and  may hold different views, sometimes they are some of the most sincere people you’ll ever meet. 

And the point is: neither is better than the other. 

The God I know gave the two most important laws, to love Him with all that we have. And to love others the same. 

He didn't really clarify much else outside of that, and I think it's because clarification wasn't needed. 

And that’s why, I do believe sometimes courage means standing up for what you believe, but for the most part, I see courage as being willing to shut up, and listen to why someone else sees things the way they do. 

Sometimes I think it is far more courageous to stop defending and promoting and persecuting and shouting our point of view, and instead, listen to what the person in front of us has to say. 

To ask, “What do you think?” 

And then listen to the answer. Really listen. And I think if you do, it might occur to you that maybe: 

Just maybe, there's a small chance that the people on the other side, are acting out of love too? 

And just because it looks different than what you think it means to love or be loved, doesn’t mean they’re wrong. 

It’s the easiest thing in the world to read a one sided view of everything and then form opinions on it. It’s easy to hang out and love people that view the world like you do. You want to know what’s far more difficult? 

Empathy. Empathy and understanding for people whose journey here might look a little different form yours.

I believe empathy is where all virtue originates. 

As we shift our focus from trying to be understood and instead to understanding, to empathizing rather then convincing, we might find that people are more like us than we think. 

Because we all want our kids to be safe and we all need affection and acceptance and want to be loved for who we are not for who others think we should be. 

Which allows the questions to arise: is there a chance we’re all on the same team? 

And in the vineyard that day, when I looked down to see that perfect heart shaped rock, I knew the answer to that question was YES. 

So much YES. 

And that’s why love, pure love, it’s eternal. There is always enough of it to go around. 

So the whole love people but hate their sin and accept them as a person but don’t accept their lifestyle etc. 

Geez. To me that is making a really simple issue, really complicated. All I see in words like that is a HUGE amount of grey area. And when it comes to real love, there is no grey area. That's why it's the most powerful force in the world. 

So I've now chosen a simpler approach. When the choice comes between choosing to love a book vs. loving a human being, I will choose the human being EVERY SINGLE TIME. 

Because I think a lack of love and understanding will cause far more problems than any of the issues we all like to debate over, combined. 

And if we are really needing to choose issues to be passionate about,  maybe we should pick issues that require US to change rather then OTHERS to change. That’d be good, I think. 

Whether or not we view things the same way, do me a favor and try really hard today to love the parts of yourself you’ve been taught to hate. Instead of dwelling on all the reasons you're not good enough because of everything you've been told, change it up a bit and accept yourself. Exactly as you are.  

Because I don't think those raw and real parts of yourself need to be fixed, because I don't think they're broken. And giving yourself permission to accept you for you makes it easier to accept others for who they are. 

And if you’re ever having a hard time thinking of why you're good enough, reach out to me. I’ll be happy to help you come up with a (long) list of reasons. 

Thanks to all my friends out there. The ones who view the world like I do and the ones who don't. I'm glad we can respect each other without always agreeing with each other. 

But I think the beautiful part is that when we really look at the stuff that matters, we have more in common than you might think. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

If I had to choose

 There's something about the middle of the night that enhances feelings. Maybe it's the stillness. Maybe it's the overly tiredness. Maybe it's a little of both. But the other night, I found myself in too much pain to sleep. 

This time, I deserved it. I was going through old pictures, which is never a good idea unless you're ready to have your heart torn open.

. 

As I was scrolling through I stumbled upon the pictures above. They aren't the professional ones we got, but i'm stunned at how perfect he is. I know i'm the only one that feels this way. I'm his mom, his number one advocate and first love. I could stare at him for hours. It's just how the world works. Unconditional love is a beautiful thing. 

There's been a few times in my life where people have done that thing where they think it's valuable to tell you physical flaws they think you have. In other words, I've been told more than once that my eyes are "too far apart". But when Jon Gabriel got my eyes, it became my favorite part about me, because it was apart of him. And every part of him is stunning to me. 

The pain eventually gets to the point where continuing to feel all of it is a death sentence, but then to not would be a death sentence also. 

Because all the feelings are complicated. It's hard to know if they stem from his death and or divorce or the strain of other relationships in my life. Maybe they are all one in the same. The empty bed next to me used to make it all worse. But now, I prefer it that way.  

One of my friends called me yesterday. We talked for awhile. 

"Do you miss him?" She asked. 

I knew she wasn't referring to Jon Gabriel.  

"No. I don't. I mean there's some days when I I miss the fact that he was my son's father. But they aren't really one in the same anymore." And it's true. My ex and I both held held the same baby that was a part of each of us, and we both watched him die right before our eyes. 

But I told her about the last conversation he and I had. How validating it all was. 

Obviously divorce tears apart your life and then leaves you with the most bitter type of loneliness you can imagine. But i've learned you can miss who the person was at certain points of your life, and still know they shouldn't be in your life anymore. That maybe having things torn apart isn't always such a bad thing. 

My thoughts are taken back to the 6 weeks check up I had with my doctor after Jon Gabriel passed away. To this day, the smell of hospitals and doctor offices bring back way too many feelings. When I walked in, I could feel the nurse and secretary behind the front desk go silent. They knew my circumstance, but they were the only ones. A mom in the waiting room overheard the secretary verify that I was here for the 6 week check up. 

"Congrats on your new baby!" She said. "Thank you" I smiled. I wasn't about to tell her. 

"Dr. Gourley is going to be disappointed you didn't bring your baby in with you!" There it is. I was feeling bad for how awkward she was about to feel. 

The nurse came to my rescue. "This is a actually a.. unique circumstance." And she quickly led me toward the doctor's office. The nurses grabbed my hands and told me through tears how sorry they were, and asked what they could bring me to make me feel better. They asked me a million questions. I will always remember their kindness. You never forget people like that. 

I remember crying when the doctor asked how I was doing. I hate crying. Especially in front of other people. I asked him how long people usually waited to try again. 

"I'm not trying to replace him or anything. But the whole thing just feels so unnatural you know?  The only thing that feels normal is wanting to be pregnant again." 

He told me it was healthy to feel that way. And that it was up to me but he recommended we wait at least 9 months, especially after having an emergency c section.

He did assure me that eventually the most healing thing I could do was have another baby. That whenever he sees women in circumstances like mine, losing a first born, they've all said that having another baby has made a world of difference in their ability to move forward. Not move on, but forward. 

And that's when it occurred to me why, 2 and a half years later, I occasionally have really hard time dealing with his death. I'm not even close to that point of being a mom again. I've had to go back and start from the beginning. And that's okay. Because there's a lot I need to create in my life before I get to that point. So it's okay. But it sucks too. 

And in the mean time, it helps to go back and remember the little stories like the one above, that led me to where I am right now. I think we're wired for stories. We like to be able to find reasons for things, and stories help us do that. They also connect us to each other, and help us find the people that are for us. Telling a story from start to finish, trying to remember every detail in an attempt to make sense of the experience, it was makes us come alive. And it shows us that all the stuff that happens to us, whether good or bad, it matters. 

And so i'll always tell his story. The one that includes extra trips to the doctors office for ultra sounds and the times that he refused to sit still while the ultrasound tech tried to get a good view his heart and one time he straight up did a front flip and put his butt right toward the camera and the time we thought he had died before he really died and the blonde fuzzy hair and blue eyes that look like mine and the time his shoulders were too broad for the premie casket so we had to upgrade to a bigger casket and the time after we pulled the plug and the nurse told me to "leave him on the table on my way out" and the time his heart was still beating and he opened his eyes and stared at me for a little while when he was supposed to be completely sedated, and when I knew from the moment I saw him: "This one is mine." And if I had to choose between having him as my first born and instead having another baby that didn't have a heart defect and that I wouldn't have to watch die in my arms, I'd choose Jon Gabriel. 

Again and again and again. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

The blood moon and what it taught me

Lately i've felt the need for a complete change. In every area. I bought a book on the "Japanese art of decluttering and organizing" and i've been throwing things out left and right. (still learning how to clear out tabs also, as you can see above^) But overall i'm working toward simplifying, reorganizing, starting over, in a way. 

This is an effect of the blood moon i'm sure. Eclipses are known for releasing old energy patterns so there's energy available to create new forms, bringing greater insights and revision.

Part of this "start from scratch" plan included changing up this blog a little. In order to do that, I had to go through past posts to make sure they would be compatible with the new format I wanted. 

Which led to me actually having to read posts i'd written 3+ years ago... 

This was nothing short of pure horror. I basically cringed the whole time. I think i'm going to end up deleting a lot of them. 

There were lots of typed out smiley faces and posts about study nights and new clothes and zoo trips and recipes and holidays and it hit me:

You can read it ALL from this one spot. 

From being a married student at BYU to finding out I was pregnant to the birth and death of Jon Gabriel to the grieving process, to getting divorced, and moving on. 

It's all right here. 

The whole thing just makes me extremely CLAUSTROPHOBIC. 

And a little uneasy. 

Uneasy, because the only posts where my feelings were real, were the posts about Jon Gabriel and the posts following my divorce. 

Everything else was a coping mechanism. Once I was married, it was clear that who I was becoming was so far from who I truly was, and blogging and taking pictures of things and posting about them was distracting and kind of eased the blow a little. 

Blogging (prior to Jon Gabriel) allowed me to portray my life as something really pretty and fun and normal, when for the most part I've never felt more alone. 

And reading all my past posts from a couple of years ago reminded me of those days when I was on a constant search for inner peace. And unfortunately, my twenty year old mind was convinced that inner peace and pleasing everyone were one in the same. 

Which i've learned since, couldn't be further from the truth. 

Reading my past posts reminded me of some of the married bloggers that I used to idolize. 

I remember one blog in particular posting about how her husband is better than everyone else's because of something he had done for her. 

I'm pretty sure the post was literally titled: "My husband is better than yours" 

gag. 

I don't know why I allowed myself to be so immersed in what was portrayed as other's "perfect lives", as it felt so similar to banging my head against the wall over and over and over.  

Maybe that is why this quote spoke to me so much: 

"Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we're supposed to be and embracing who we are."

If you don't know who Brene Brown is. Google her. ASAP. 

It took a lot of turmoil and uncertainty and a shi*load of heartache before I realized the value in being real. There's so much beauty in imperfection. In using our vulnerabilities to connect with those around us. 

And by letting our true selves be seen, we give others permission to do the same.  

And in the process we learn that imperfect does not mean inadequate. As Brene brown has said, imperfections just remind us that we're all in this together.  

And that's the beauty of authenticity. There is no competition.
You're ideal just the way you are.  

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Contact

contact me at maddiebeeton@msn.com

I don't usually take offense

I had the biggest anxiety attack of my life a few nights ago, and it all could have been avoided.

I hate being on bad terms with people. It throws off my vibe. That's part of the reason I don't get offended easily.  I find most people good on the inside, and so usually their good intentions are enough. 

That was until this weekend. 

I was out with a guy i've been seeing. He was cool and cute and for some reason I wasn't feeling it and my instincts are usually right when it comes to this kind of thing but I couldn't explain why so I just thought i'd give it time. As if chemistry is something that can be developed. 

Somehow the conversation led to a family member of his that died. We talked about that for awhile. I asked him details about the person, I like hearing about things people care about. We talked about how you never really get over something like that. I told him I had a baby die a couple of years ago. 

This is where things took a turn for the worse. 

"A baby or a fetus?" 

.. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. 

"My son was 30 weeks along when he was born. It was 2 months before his due date."

"So an oversized fetus?"

I was sure I didn't hear him correctly. "I'm sorry, what?" 

"I was just joking it sounds like it wasn't a baby as much as just a big fetus." 

Instantly, I was more than fine with never seeing him again. 

 I didn't ever  say anything, I just left and decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. But the next day I started feeling restless. The combination of what he said combined with some conflict that was taking place in few of my close relationships.. I was wishing I had not let everything build up.

The symptoms started taking place. The increased heart rate and shallow breathing. The pressure building up in my chest cavity left me feeling a compete loss of control over what was happening to me. 

I was reminded that peace isn't always the absence of conflict, but instead learning how to cope with it. The little pains we experience are messengers and we need to listen to them. Because they will always manifest themselves eventually, in sometimes worse ways. 

I think it's okay to get offended occasionally. It means we care. But then it's important to come to terms with what was said. The point isn't to never be upset, the point is to feel upset,  confront it, and let it go. 

In other words, maybe biting your tongue isn't always the best answer. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

About

my sweetie pie^

At first glance, you might have thought withallourhearts.com sounded more like a born again christian denomination or something of the sort. It's actually just me: Maddie. I'm 23, born and raised in Utah, but find my heart calling me all sorts of places. I enjoy traveling (who doesn't?), listening to people's stories, learning how to use my camera, and watching Grey's Anatomy. On a more related note, writing is therapy to me, and at the same time it helps me find my place in the universe. I have always been inspired by stories, and keeping track of my own seems to add purpose to it all.

This isn't a typical lifestyle blog. One thing I've learned about life is that different things feed different souls. I'm not an expert at fashion, design, sewing, making cute prints and selling them on Etsy, or anything of the sort. However, I love following people who enjoy those things as any type of creativity is inspiring to me. 

While I don't consider myself to be an expert on anything, I do find fulfillment in posting about life from my point of view. My personal journey toward authenticity has led me to places I never thought I would be, but somehow seem to be more than just a random occurrence of events. As they say, suffering introduces you to yourself and reminds you that you're not the person you thought you were. The pain i've experienced in my life, especially losing my baby boy and getting divorced, have been the catalyst to that journey.

Somehow, when my son's life ended, mine began. The pain and heartache I experienced gradually opened up my mind and heart to what it means to be human, to love and be loved, to find meaning in the most miniscule parts of life, and what it means to work toward our higher selves. I've started to wonder if maybe the journey isn't so much about becoming anything, as it learning who you were before you were told to be anything else. 

On that journey, it's easy to settle for things that would be considered mediocre. However, I believe when it comes to the big decisions in our lives, our careers, relationships, hobbies, and overall life mission, if the answer isn't a "hell yes" it's a no. Life is too short not to give something your all, and to me, the real meaning of being "hard-core" especially in this day and age is being able to give all of your heart to something, and then owning it.  

Learning to do things with all our hearts is the whole purpose we are here. As humans it's easy to unconsciously go about life not paying a lot of attention to it. However, when we don't pay attention, we miss out on the chance to find real meaning in even just the day to day moments. 

My blog is dedicated to finding meaning in this journey of being human and everything beautiful and difficult that comes along with that. Our human journey is a short one, and can end at any moment. Since we are here anyway, why not dedicate our whole heart to living it in the most authentic way we know how? 

To me, that's real freedom. 

A Mother's Nature Retreat

"Celebrating the lives of our children, embracing the good, and taking refuge in sisterhood."

 A week ago I attended a women’s retreat up at Sundance, called “ A Mother’s Nature”. The title is pretty fitting, considering it was for women who had lost infants. I want the event logged in my little space of “things I want to remember always” part of my life and journey. Which means i'll post it here. 

Rewind to a few months prior. I had moved out of the basement of family I was living with, and moved into an apt with my friend. I had just gotten out of a relationship that shouldn’t have ever really become a relationship and I was annoyed at myself for my track record of dating people I know aren't right for me. 

It seemed like everything I had known was crumbling beneath me. Loss will do that to you. Whether it’s loss of a loved one, a relationship, faith, anything. It gives you this dreadful but empowering feeling of “I have to start from scratch.” 

I was feeling overwhelmed and  misunderstood. I knew one day all of it would probably make sense, it always does. Life has a way of turning discomfort and rawness into wisdom and understanding, but until then, you have to be willing to sit in your pain for awhile. Maybe feeling misunderstood is what leads us back to God eventually, because it means we’re outgrowing who we used to be. 

Either way, change is terrifying. And lonely. 

So I told God that i’m at this weird transition period of my life and it’s uncomfortable and it’s making me shut people out that I shouldn’t shut out. And I told him I was gonna take a break from second dates and he understood that. I told him I knew eventually I would be okay, but right now, I want it acknowledged that being me is kind of cool and exciting sometimes but actually it sucks sometimes too.  

Later that day, I got a text from Mandy Hawkes, who I had never officially met but she had family in my parents home neighborhood. This past summer my dad had called me one day and told me her story. She had a stillborn baby girl at 38 weeks. Frances was her name.

 My heart did that thing where it opens up and it’s so uncomfortable you just want to sit in the corner and cry for awhile, knowing how much of a living hell she is experiencing. I felt it for a moment, that hell. I prayed to send good energy her way. 

Now months later she was texting me letting me know she was putting on a retreat for women who had lost babies. When I got the text my heart said “yes” but my head said “maybe”. 

I was nervous. It’s been over 2 years since he died. It felt like it might be reopening wounds that had been closed. They’d never be closed all the way. But at least they were closed enough to be bearable at this point. 

I told my dad about it, and he agreed. “I feel like you’ve moved on.” he said. I knew the second he said it I hadn’t moved on and at all and I would never move on. But I knew what he meant. He meant that I used to have my own little family, but when Jon Gabriel died and I got divorced, it went back to being just me. I was finally starting to get used to the idea of it being just me. To talk about it with other people who had little families of their own, and then be reminded of that little family that is no longer mine, it sounded a little overwhelming.

But one day, I realized that these days I rarely get interaction with women who had been through the same thing as me. So all at once, I decided it was worth a shot. 

The first day of the retreat I got there really late because I had to work. When I walked in, everyone was quietly sitting around the table exchanging stories. The energy in the room was different. One thing was for sure: this was a safe place. 

And the stories? Each person’s story was so powerful and unique in it’s own way. The circumstances around each story were different, but the feelings experienced were all the same. 

I remember so many times thinking, “wait, you felt that too? I’m not crazy!” And everything I shared, someone in the room understood or had experienced something similar. 

Some people’s losses were just recent. Like last month, recent. I was in awe at their bravery to come and show up, knowing how raw everything must still be. 

And that’s what we did, for 2 days, we exchanged stories. We took pictures. We meditated. We did yoga. We went on walks. We did all sorts of things that brought us completely out of comfort zones and because of that, we were all one.

I think about each one of the women there, and it was honestly the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed. Seeing their pictures and feeling their pain. And it occurred to me, grief is not something that needs to be fixed. It’s something that needs to be bourne. Together. 

And I learned that sometimes when you are forced to grieve loss, the loss of a loved one or just the loss of how your thought your life would turn out, it’s easy to want to remain closed, and deal with the pain on your own. 

But you have to fight the urge to withdraw. You have to say, "I know feeling this vulnerable and real is the scariest feeling”, and then you have to say “But i’m going to be open anyway.” 

And that’s what I took away from my time with these amazing warriors. When life happens, fight the urge to close and shut everyone out. Stay open. 

Remaining open is the only way to turn a situation from the biggest mess into something not only bearable, but breathtakingly beautiful. 

So thank you to all the women there who were brave enough to remain open again and again and again. 

Thanks for allowing me to remain open. 

And one last thing. I realized once my marriage ended, I never went back to being a one man team. I’ve been a two man team ever since I looked down at that pregnancy test and realized I was going to be a mom. Jon Gabriel is my family, and he always will be. As long as I’m here, his story will be told. Where I go, he goes. 

And that's the beauty of angel babies. 

                                                                    ♥♥♥♥♥♥

Michael and Alisha's Wedding and a little bit of honesty

I've been meaning to post some pictures of my brothers wedding last month. The whole thing was stunning and I was on a wedding high the rest of the weekend. They had a wedding dinner the night before, above is the slideshow I created for it. Going through all the photos of them as babies and seeing my family in our younger stages made me all kinds of emotional. Life moves so fast and sometimes I want more than anything to go back to the innocent days where nothing mattered except your family and best friends and the occasional spelling test and soccer practice. 
When I look back I remember Michael and I being glued at the hip. I remember the hours we spent pretending the backyard was a jungle, and the walnuts that fell were bombs or sometimes bullets or food or whatever we wanted them to be that day. And I remember once he fell out of one of the trees and totally shattered his jaw, and I was a little excited because it meant I could go sleep over at my friends house while my parents stayed at the hospital but mostly I was terrified. I was terrified seeing my best friend laying in a bed unable to move his head because it had become so swollen.  He and I had similar friends and we played together all the time, and even though we fought a lot, he was my person. And seeing him that day, all damaged and cut up and broken, I realized how much my 9 year old self loved him. How much I couldn't live without him. 
The years went on and there was a lot of playing Tony Hawk on nintendo 64 and soccer games and basketball games and me wishing I could skateboard like him, and there were more friends that came and went and our other siblings were born and there was more pretending and fighting and growing together. 
So as you can imagine that it was difficult for me, a decade later, to tell him I wouldn't be able to attend his wedding. 
He and Alisha were one of the first weddings to take place in the Payson Temple, which is beyond stunning. There's literally no wedding i'd rather be at. 
I put off telling him this as long as I could. The last thing I wanted was for him to think it didn't matter to me. In a weird way, it's because it did matter to me, that I thought it was best not to go. 
I held off until the last possible minute telling him. Literally until the day before. 
"Maddie, I would rather have you be true to yourself and not attend, rather then go because everyone will notice if you're not there." 
That's why he's such a stud, Michael. 
And so despite not being there, the wedding dinner was a blast and the day was nothing but beautiful. 
And after all of it, I realized how much I value authenticity. And how much I appreciate people that value you it also. 
And maybe that's what I miss so much about those early childhood days. Those days when it was okay to be you, and nothing else. Those days when you didn't feel pressure to put on a face that was anything but who you were. 
And now even though I look back and glorify those earlier days, I realize that we always have the choice to recreate what we loved about our childhood. 
Even though we may have outgrown a lot of our childhood dreams, we can still choose to be fascinated by the world and approach mundane/boring tasks with curiosity and excitement. We can still choose to show the same dedication and loyalty to the people in our lives as we did to our best friend growing up. And we can decide to look past people's looks or social status, and instead be nice to them because they need friends and we need friends and that should always be a good enough reason. 
Everyday we can make a choice to be completely and utterly ourselves. Especially about the "holes" in our lives. The things that make us imperfect and human. Maybe God put the holes there because that's what brings people together. And maybe in order to do that you have to accept the holes you have as a part of who you are, and not try to hide them. 
And by choosing not to hide them, it allows you to weed out the people who don't accept your holes because they're unwilling to accept their own. And in the process, you're left with the best kind of people, the one's that accept you because you have holes, not in spite of them. 
My favorite author Glennon Melton, talked about these "holes", our imperfections and trials, and the things that make us human. She said: 
"Holes are good for making friends, and friends are the best hole fillers i've found yet. Maybe because other people are closest we get to God on this side. So when we use our holes to find God in each other, we become holy."  
And one thing is for sure, we can't find God in each other if we aren't being true to who we are and admitting we have holes in the first place. 
So special thanks to Michael and Alisha for being true to who they are and finding each other in the process. Thank you for letting us celebrate both of you. 
And thanks for allowing me to be true to who I am. I'm excited for all the years that lie ahead. Holes, and all. 
♥♥♥♥♥♥

A post about living and dying

 (Pics I took in California ft. Ella and Annie ^) 

For some reason my emotions have been all over the place this week. My cousin Abigail mentioned that the moon has been more full lately, which tends to bring out deep rooted emotions. I googled it and found an article titled "the spiritual effects of a full moon". It verified that the moon frequencies have the capacity to make the frequencies from the impressions in our sub-conscious mind surface to the conscious mind, making us more aware of our thoughts and feelings. 

That might explain why i’ve had a hard time controlling my emotions the past few days. While I generally try and not bury emotions, its impossible not to at times. A typical work day requires that I be on my A game for sometimes 12 hours straight, and that doesn’t leave a lot of time for confronting feelings. I work for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, a non profit dedicated to raising funds toward blood cancer research. We work with schools all over Utah and Southern Nevada, and sometimes hearing stories about people getting cancer leaves me feeling unsettled at the end of the day. My Aunt Sue, one of my very favorites, is battling cancer at the moment also. Life can be so brutal. It’s no wonder we have to cry it out at times just to make it through each day. 

For me, this happened the other night when I was watching Grey’s Anatomy (which is right in between being the worst idea ever when you’re on an emotional roller coaster and also being an amazing outlet for those emotions). Two of the doctors on there are married (Jackson and April) and find out they're pregnant. They’ve already been through so much as a couple that it’s straight up adorable watching them find out they’re going to have a baby. 

But into the pregnancy they find out their baby has type 2 Fibromyalgia, meaning his bones (it’s a boy) are literally breaking inside the womb. She is only 24 weeks along, and determined to go full term even though in the best case scenario the baby will live only a few hours. It is then that her doctor describes how much pain her baby is experiencing. The doctor gives her the options, and April goes through a back and forth battle between deciding the best course of action, knowing deep down she needs deliver immediately so the baby can pass away and no longer be in pain.

Her mother in law, who April isn’t very close with, for the first time comes to April’s aid and empathizes with what April is experiencing. She kneels by April’s chair and grabs her hands. It’s then that April bursts into tears and cries, “I have no idea how i’m supposed to do what I know I have to do..” 

That’s about the point that I lost it. 

Seeing someone else act out that scenario, the one where you're torn between wanting your child more than anything and knowing it's not possible, it opened the door all over again. And when that happens, it hurts as much as it did on May 7th, the day we removed his life support, and the pain seems to show no mercy. 

It isn’t the death itself that is so painful, as it is being forced to accept it. It’s impossible to ever feel ready for someone you love, especially your child, to leave this life without you. Suddenly they are gone and life continues to move on, at the same alarming speed, and all you have left is memories. It’s no wonder acceptance can leave you feeling totally helpless and defeated. 

So you hurt. You hurt a little everyday, but most days you're better at not thinking about it. Because thinking about it makes you feel like something sharp is poking at your heart over and over. It’s not a good feeling, so you try not to let your thoughts wander too much. 

But then there’s those rare occasions when you allow yourself to think about it. All of it. And the "what might have beens” are suffocating. And you don't know what hurts more, the pain of what actually took place or the ache of what never will. It’s exhausting really, wishing for something so much. 

 Eventually the tears stopped and I was totally worn out. It’s then that I knew I needed to step out of the darkness and call someone. I called my cousin Abigail. I told her how crazy I am and we laughed pretty hard. She told me about the moon theory and about how crazy she's felt in the past. She gets me. After we hung up I noticed that I felt better, move alive, than I've felt in a long time. 

And suddenly, my thoughts shift toward my own life. I will not be around forever. Who knows what could happen tomorrow, or the next day. All at once, the acceptance I had to feel over my son’s death, turns into an acceptance of my life. 

Suddenly my own morality becomes a friend, a teacher, rather than the enemy. Every moment becomes perfect just as it is. 

It’s amazing how once you accept that you won't be here forever, the focus shifts from the love you've lost, to finding the love and the hope you still have, and holding onto it like hell. 

This allows the questions to arise: “If today were the last day of my life, how would I treat myself and others?" 

"What conversations would I have that i’ve been putting off?”

"What would I choose to enjoy today?” 

And the truth is more clear than ever before: each new day is a gift beyond measure. Learning to embrace that truth and accepting both the joy and sorrow of each day, that’s what it means to live life to the fullest. What an exciting, awful, beautiful journey that is. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Sunrise

Monday morning I awoke earlier than usual. I checked my phone and the bright light blinded me a little: it was 4:50 A.M. I still had at least a couple more hours of sleep. I put my head back on my pillow and shut my eyes. But something wouldn't let me sleep. Something wanted me awake. I got up and washed my face in the sink. I was tempted to let my thoughts get lost in all I had to do that day, or in overthinking events that played out over the weekend. I let go of those thoughts and forced myself to feel the water as it brushed my face and let the cold awaken my senses. I was suddenly alert, and aware of the present moment. The rest of the day didn't matter. All that mattered was now. I sat down and offered a prayer of gratitude. I asked God, in whatever sense He is, to trust me today. To expand my consciousness, and give me the chance to be more aware of those around me, to recognize that the opportunity to bless others is a gift from Him. I'm capable of helping. I'm capable of loving. That is where my power lies. 

I open my book and begin to read. Finding a deeper meaning from stories and other people's viewpoints, fuels me. I read about what it means to have compassion. To live in harmony with one's self by recognizing that everything is apart of everything. We are all from the same source, and therefore, how we treat ourselves is a direct reflection of how we will treat others. I promise to be more forgiving of myself today. 

It's now 6 A.M. I get dressed, put my head phones in, and step out the door to go for a run. I debate leaving my head phones home. Sometimes the quiet stillness in the morning tells secrets I don't want to miss. But music has a way of making you feel connected with the universe that is unlike any other. It also brings emotions to the surface that can be useful when your pushing through the last mile. So I start my playlist and take off toward the sunrise.

 I cross the bridge that goes over the highway, and I watch as traffic zooms back and forth, as if it never stopped from the day before. I wonder where all the people are headed so early in the morning. I wonder what kind of jobs they have and what kind of lives they lead. I think about how i'll be joining the traffic soon.

I run up a hill and let the extra exertion open my lungs and leave me feeling more fatigued, yet empowered at the same time. It's one of the greatest feelings in the world, conquering a difficult hill. I thought about how many "hills" i've seemed to encounter in my life thus far. Some steeper, and more painful, than others. Which makes the end result, the view from the top, even more satisfying. 

Once I reach the top of the hill I look down and notice how far I've made it. I think about how every new day is a chance to make it a little farther than the next. A couple miles in I reach my halfway mark and turn around and run home. 

It's going to be a good day. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Dating after Divorce

Pics from my new place^

I've been kind of hesitant to post about this topic because I don't want it to be weird or negative or whatever. Then I remembered if that was really a legitimate fear I would've stopped posting a long time ago.

So with that, let's talk about dating after divorce. Actually let's just talk about dating in general.

Any single, twenty something year old would agree that it's pretty normal to be asked about your dating life within any small talk that lasts more than 60 seconds. In the months that followed my divorce people seemed to avoid this question, which I appreciated. Let's be real, if there's anything worse than dating it's being asked about dating. But everyone does it, including myself, it's part of not just being human, but especially being human in Utah. Every person in my age group seems to be somewhat defined by their answer to the "How's dating?" question. No matter how much we dislike it, we aren't going to change it, so acceptance is the only solution at this point.

One thing that became very clear shortly after my marriage ended, was that I was no where near ready to date again. I spent a few months denying this. Which I don't beat myself up over. Anyone can tell you what they think is right for you, but until they're actually in your circumstance it's hard to know what is best for you in particular. You have to try things and fail and then adapt, and hopefully find a happy medium somewhere in between.

And at that point, it seemed reasonable that going on so many dates a week would somehow cure the deep rooted loneliness I felt on a constant basis. So I went out a lot. Even though everything in me wanted to spend every night watching Grey's Anatomy or formulating a plan to leave the state and find my life elsewhere.. I didn't. (Most of the time) I forced myself to be around people. I dated a lot. And in the process, I learned how to paint a picture of myself that I liked. One that included my bachelor's degree, my career goals, and my hobbies. One that didn't include my failed relationship. It didn't include the sleepless nights I spent wondering if my marriage and the life I was living at the point was as good as it gets. It didn't include a baby boy that I loved with all my heart passing away in my arms. It didn't include any of that. It just included the pretty details. The happy ones.

And during that process, I began to hate the baggage it was so clear that I had. You don't come out of those types of things without feeling a little crazy. Or maybe things like that help you stop denying the craziness that was always there to begin with. Either way, when I finally started dating again I felt a need to hide those details. I felt like who I was, wasn't good enough without some sort of explanation, and I didn't want to have to explain it to any new comers. This fear of not being good enough became a reality when one day, I was told that someone had wanted to ask me out until they saw the posts about my son on Facebook. They decided not to because they didn't know how to do "deal" with that.

I wish I could say I didn't let it affect me, but that wouldn't be accurate. Because suddenly, I felt ashamed of my past. While I've usually made it a point to give my son a presence in the world, which included my online space, that began to change. I privatized everything and made it harder to access any pictures that made reference to any part of that 2 years, including Jon Gabriel.

Then there was this blog itself. It's obviously public, so anyone that wants to can access all kinds of personal stories of mine through a quick google search. I thought long and hard about it, and decided it would be best to shut down my blog completely.

Before I did, I mentioned this plan to my therapist.

He seemed surprised and asked me why I felt the need to do that. He wasn't satisfied with my "just because" answer so I explained further,

"It just tells a lot of details about my story. About grieving the loss of Jon Gabriel, and the loss of my marriage etc. Honestly I think if someone doesn't know me, it can make me look a little crazy maybe, I dunno. Boys don't know how to deal with those kind of things.."

Literally without skipping a beat he said:

"Boys don't know how to deal with it. Men do."

Haha. It was a valid point.. but still. It didn't make sense to let people know about my broken past, so early on. Hiding it seemed like the best option.

My therapist continued,

"In WHAT WORLD do those kind of experiences subtract from a person, Maddie? "

I realized I might be looking at it all the wrong way.

Shortly after, my Aunt Lezlee gave me a few paintings she bought from the Salt Lake farmers market. One of them had a this quote against a colorful backdrop:

"Don't you see? The parts you call "broken" are the very places where your light shines the brightest."

My eyes got a little teary as I realized God always manages to intervene at the perfect time.

And finally, I came to the conclusion I was meant to come to all along: My story is enough. It's more than enough. Those 2 years of my life, and everything i've been through since, they only add to who I am and who i've become. It's not something to hide from or be in denial about. Because it makes up every piece of me. And it's those same pieces that make me more capable of seeing the beautiful pieces that make others who they are.

It's all connected.

There's a million dating websites out there where people fill out their profile with details about their favorite hobbies, their likes and dislikes, what they aspire to be, etc. It makes sense for people to connect in this way, but you can only talk about how much you like adventures and netflix for so long before you feel like you're just like everyone else.

And in a culture where it's easy to feel like you don't stand out, i've learned it's your past, every little part of your life that has made you who you are today, that separates you from the rest. Especially the hard stuff. The stuff that brings you to your knees and makes you have to redefine every part of who you are. It's those experiences that make you, you. All those little stories are the reason you are irreplaceable.

And in the process, it's normal to fear that those things will make you appear broken or that people will look down on you for it. But the truth is, it's those exact things that make you pretty kick a**. Why? Because people might like the same past times as you, or watch the same netflix series you do. But NOBODY has had a human experience quite like yours. And it is YOUR story that allows you to be there for other people who are experiencing their own rock bottom.

How perfect is that?

So these days, dating has become so much better. I won't be getting married any time soon, and that has changed the dating game for me. Takes the pressure off a little, you know? I'll go out with people and we'll exchange stories, sometimes i'll share a little bit of detail from those two years, sometimes I won't. Sometimes i'll talk about other things. Like about a few months ago how I nearly packed up everything and moved to Florida for a couple of years, but I ended up staying when I got a job working for a non profit agency and when I realized how much I love Salt Lake City. Or how one of my best friends and I just found the cutest little apt up here (see pics above). And how we got a dog named Jack.

Now, it's become so much fun to meet people and hear their stories. Find out why they are the way there are, and make some good friends in the process. Either way, once you don't feel like you have to fit into a "mold" of some sort, dating is so much better. It's like as soon as you stop trying to "fix" what isn't broken and stop feeling the need to please everyone around you, the right people come into your life and the wrong one's leave. And then your story is able to take you to where you are in this moment. Which is exactly where you're meant to be:)

♥♥♥♥♥♥