Tag Archives: journey

Let That S*&% Go!

Let That S*&% Go!…

What I am about to share may seem surprising considering I often riff about the fact I tend to hold on to things and over analyze.

However, in my journey of over analyzing I’m learning there is a whole lot I need to let go. I’ve talked about this before. Now that I’m actually doing it, it’s been kind of amazing the difference it’s made in my life.

Less stress for starters.

I have also started speaking up. Putting space between myself and things that aren’t working for me. People included.

Stress is a silent killer and it’s amazing the things that can help it creep in. It’s sad who might hold the door open.

It is also sad the things I have let get to me. It’s taken some very frank conversations with some people I love and trust a whole lot, to realize sometimes I feed into my self doubt and insecurities. I assume the worst. I listen to the voice inside my head and sometimes the voice of others who I absolutely should not.

Rather than take a moment and stop and think about what is upsetting me.

I believe the worst and for awhile there I had a team of cheerleaders agreeing with me.

Not to say there have been things that have happened that definitely have caused me to put the barbed wire up around my heart sometimes and unfortunately scrutinize things I just shouldn’t.

However…

Not everyone in my life is going to hurt me. Just because someone else did.

Not everyone is going to lie to me just because someone else did.

Not everything is going to fall apart.

Not everyone is out to get me.

I am lovable even when I don’t feel like I am.

This is whole thing, life it’s not a competition.

People who love and care about you should never make you feel like it is.

I should never feel like it is.

Because it isn’t.

It really is a journey.

A crazy, bumpy one with some serious twists and turns but at the end of the day it’s mine and as long as I’m happy and G is happy,the rest of it…

Well I’m letting it go.

I hope when you have those moments, or days you can too Mommas.

Much love.

<3Caprise

More Better Days

Don’t stop me if you’ve heard this already, it’s a good one. Do you realize that most of our “better days” haven’t even happened yet? That is actually quite amazing. I have been blessed enough in my life to have some awesome “better days”. Not all of them have been major accomplishments or even stacked with luxury. They all happened while just living out my life in real time.

I was able watch and beam with pride as my son and his team won a State Football Championship his senior year. I have screamed at the top of my lungs and jumped up and down while witnessing my daughter make a game winning PK in a shootout at a State Soccer Tournament. I have held babies, traveled to places with some of my favorite people, laughed until it hurt and tears streamed down my face, bought coffee for strangers behind me, seen some amazing sunrises and phenomenal sunsets. Talk about better days! I have had plenty…and I could go on and on.

I have also had my share of war stories. Having to pick myself up in times where I thought I couldn’t go on – maneuvering through some of the worst times of my life thus far. Feelings of insecurity, uncertainty, and shame. Feeling like I am transparent and that everyone in the entire world can see through me and knows my every fear and wanting to hide from the world because of it. But, I want more “better days”… and they are coming for me.

Recently, I have put a considerable amount of thought into what “better days” means to me. It means feeling more whole. More complete. Feeling more joys than sorrows. Tipping the happiness scale in my favor. The best part? I have a hand in choosing those better days. I get to choose how I respond to things that are not meant for me. I get to eliminate things that rob me of my joy, to bring myself peace. I don’t have to explain why and I don’t owe anyone anything for doing it. I get to hold out and know that I will indeed have better days – and I am ready.

Ready for those days to enter my life and burn themselves into my memory. Thinking of the times to come brings tears of excitement to my eyes. I look forward to seeing my children accomplishing their goals, watching them get married, holding my future grandchildren. I get to look forward to traveling to beautiful destinations that photos don’t do justice, and take it all in. When the time is right – experiencing immense butterflies with a first kiss, and at some point falling in love all over again. Driving with the windows down and the radio up while it plays my favorite songs on a warm summer day. Those are what “better days” are made of.

I get it, there will be some not-so-better-days ahead too. Dates on the calendar that we’d rather not remember. Holes and voids in our hearts left by those who should have loved us more. Missing someone who is gone too soon. Wanting to fall into bed at the end of the day painfully waiting for the day to be over. However, those days make the better ones so much more important. It aids them to be appreciated more.

Better days are on the horizon. I refuse to let them pass me by going unnoticed for what they truly are. I exercise my right to no longer feel as if I am required to walk with my head down and blinders on. There are more “better days” meant for me, and for you too!

I am putting up and waving my white flag in the wind, and giving up feeling like I don’t deserve the better days ahead. Instead, I am relishing in the appreciation and anticipation that I in fact get better days.

 

  • Jenn

Who We Are And How We Got Here

This is who we are and this is how we got here..

My eldest son, James will be 19 in December. He is on the Autism spectrum (High Functioning). When we had James diagnosed at the University of Washington Autism Center almost 9 years ago one of the things the neuropsychologist told my partner and I was the best thing we could have done for James leading up to his late diagnosis was to treat him “normally”. What this meant is that James had chores and household responsibilities appropriate for his age and was held responsible when his behavior needed correcting even when we knew something was different about the way James was seeing the world and digesting experiences.

I went home after that visit and cried for two days. I couldn’t even look at my son square in the eyes. See what the doctor at the UW thought was great about how we had parented James up to the point of diagnosis, was exactly what had me riddled with guilt. Guilt for every nag and fuss and sarcastic response or impatient look or tuned out tangent. I felt embarrassed for every time I pushed him to be involved in an organized sport or sit through a loud movie or make eye contact with a stranger. And the more I read up on Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) the worse I felt.

And then one day I got over it. I think it was during a conversation with my sister where she pointed out that I hadn’t been even close to being abusive or bad to James. I had been loving and firm, just like our father had been with us. And I knew I was doing my absolute best so on that day I decided that I was going to use my own parental compass and parent my kids exactly the way that I wanted to. Always attempting to lead with love.

For the most part, for the last 18 almost 19 years James has been nearly angelic. When my friends were having issues with their adolescent sons I was boasting about the cake walk I was on with James. The biggest challenge I had was securing supportive services for him through school. And the funniest part about that is I would work my butt off to secure a service and James would work even harder to prove he didn’t need it or very little of it.

It’s been my experience that finding support for non ASD presenting kids is hard. And let’s be clear, finding services for non neurotypical people is a monster effort and should be way easier than it is. But I feel like diagnosing and finding support for a non verbal child with classic ASD signs and symptoms is more straightforward than diagnosing and supporting a child that presents as neurotypical but does really quirky and sometimes dangerous stuff off and on. Most of my challenge around getting supportive services after our diagnosis was that at around age 13 James asked that we stop participating in the local Autism Awareness campaigns and walks and to stop advertising that we were an ASD family to our neighbors and on social media. I agreed but I found that after a while I felt closeted and shut off from other ASD parents and resources. The only support I had was on Facebook and the groups I joined never seemed to have parents or ASD members having similar experiences as us.

The other part of the challenge is that my son’s high functioning autism (HF ASD) has what we in my family call Cloudy Days. Meaning, we can go months without any significant spikes in characteristics commonly found with people on the spectrum and then one day I will notice that James is pacing (that’s how he stems) or he is having a hard time articulating his thoughts. When these “cloudy days” happen usually there is something that has lead up to it: over indulgence in processed foods, being overwhelmed at school, having a bad day at work, not feeling well or friend issues. I used to be able to anticipate these days because I was more in touch with what was happening at school or with friends but since James has started having more and more experiences that don’t include me, I am usually blindsided when his autism has spikes.

James is hyper aware of the stigmas that come with people’s lack of understanding of Autism as a spectrum and is sensitive to being treated like any other young person. So, I’ve tried to help him in any way I could. In some ways it has been a blessing that I was a very young woman when I had him. We share many of the same taste in music and pop culture and it’s not a stretch for me to understand his perspective on many things. Between my daughter (James’ younger sister) and I, we’ve become his social queue and societal support. My daughter specifically was great about breaking things down for James. And as he got older and learned behaviors became more automatic, James became a terrific social support to her too. They have a very special bond. In fact as I write this blog entry they are in the dining room cracking up over some YouTube video that they’re watching.

But over time, as it happens in every household with children, James has gotten older and includes me less and less in his decisions and requires more and more freedom. Freedom in his decision making and freedom physically from home.

You should know, I grew up in and around Los Angeles county in California. I’ve been around shaky situations and sketchy characters my entire life. I got a very normal 80’s baby city kid upbringing. But as a parent, I work really hard to raise my kids in cities with low crime rates and good schools. My kids have had very little exposure to all the danger that awaits them in the world. So the idea of my somewhat naïve 18 year old navigating around the city with his friends shook/shakes me to my core.

I’ve always been really honest with James about my concerns. And he is been great about navigating his new freedom with care. But like a boomerang coming back to it’s owner it appears that some of the heartache I dished my parents is coming back to haunt me.

Recently, I’ve been forced to wake up and think about the “support” I’ve been giving James up to this point.

  • Was I helping him when I agreed to lesson my involvement with the local Autism resource groups?
  • Was I helping him by not forcing him to socialize with other people on the spectrum?
  • Have I been a helper to him by being in every nook and cranny of his life, so much so that he may have had to keep secrets to have privacy?
  • Have I been the best mother to him without the tools of other ASD parents who have traveled this road before me?
  • Have I given him too much control over how we will live as an ASD family?

I’ve lost a lot of sleep and consumed many a cocktail mulling over these questions in the last few weeks. I’ve searched the internet and reached out to support groups in other states and none of what I find seems to speak to where I am or the questions I have. James is capable of taking care of himself. But do I believe I’ll need to provide a moderate amount of support for possibly longer than most parents of newly launched young adults? Yes. I believe he’ll get to any place he wants to be in his timing. But I can’t help but feel like someone out there has launched a teen with HF ASD into adulthood and being able to pick their brain for a while would help me so much.

I’m going to start a new blog series on my page documenting this journey of launching James into adulthood. Maybe someone that is parenting a younger child similar to my James will find these entries and they’ll help them. Or maybe I’ll just write these entries to get all the concern running through my head out and on paper so I can sleep at night. I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to see what happens.

*Life Thief is a “real life” lifestyle blogger with a sassy mouth and real woman and mother sensibilities.

You can find her other blog posts at: https://thestolenlifechronicles.wordpress.com/

Single By Choice

One of the craziest journeys I have been on so far has to be choosing to be single. I was single by accident for a year before I chose to be single on purpose for another year before dating.

I made this decision to help in the process of bettering myself, and it has helped a lot.

Not only have I become comfortable being single it has also helped to weed out “guy friends”.

Some people never desire anything more than the thing or person they cant have.

So many of these friends found out I was single on purpose, and it went from a feeling of casual friends to feeling I had a target on my head. I’ve had to weed some of these friends out because the way they went about expressing their sudden strong interest in me was in no way appropriate and showed me how little respect they had for me.

Most of them would make inappropriate comments, one went as far as smacking me in the rear at work. It really opened my eyes to the fact of If I had not marked myself and my standards down over the years, I wouldn’t of ended up with the guys I had because I would have seen the red flags from miles away. Yes, whom I’ve dated Is 100% my fault.

For years I was pretty upset over what others have done to me, especially people that I have dated. Now i’m looking at everything with fresh eyes, I am the one who let them treat me like that, I’m the one who continuously held the door open to low quality men.

So for now I am still choosing to stay single, I am enjoying working on myself, and elevating myself. I will not have to save the person I want to be with, nor will they have to save me. That person when the time is right will understand what mutual respect is and what a healthy relationship looks like.

I am absolutely thrilled with my journey, even when the growing pains can get a little rough.

Happy and Thriving,

Ali

No One Has It Together

I have a big fat, mind blowing, earth shattering, life changing reality check for you. It’s something that took me a long time to realize and even longer to embrace. It’s also something I have to remind myself of on a regular basis!

Are you ready for it?

Really ready?

No one has their shit together. Not me, not you. Not your pastor, banker, mayor, doctor, librarian or hair dresser. Not your neighbor across the street whose entire yard and house make the homes from the latest edition of Home and Garden look sad and pathetic. Not the president of the PTA who is on every committee, and at every bake sale. Not your college roommate who just landed their dream job. And not even your brother’s, girlfriend’s, cousin’s, neighbor’s uncle that just won the lottery.

Newsflash! Everyone has something in their lives they want to be different. Just because their lives look great on the surface, doesn’t mean they have it all figured out! That neighbor with the perfect house may be struggling with overwhelming anxiety and OCD, and their spotless home and yard are how they cope. (Or may be a sign they AREN’T coping!) The PTA mom might be throwing herself into volunteer work because her marriage is falling apart. Your college roommate may have gotten their dream job, but also just got diagnosed with cancer. And let’s be real here, when has winning the lottery EVER actually solved all of someone’s problems?

It has taken me YEARS to get to the point where I no longer have to fight the urge to laugh in someone’s face, when they tell me that I inspire them or that they look up to me. My internal reaction is still “Oh honey, if only you knew!” Now, however I am able to step back and see what they see. A strong, capable, single mom with special needs kids, who works full time, finds time to volunteer, goes to church (albeit irregularly), gets to the gym (also irregularly) and manages some semblance of a social life. What they don’t see are the days that my anxiety is overwhelming, the times I lose my temper on my kids, the fact that my housekeeping style is best described as “there appears to have been a struggle” or the fact that I quite literally live on caffeine and carbs most days because I honestly can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling rested.

The more you start really connecting with other people, the more you realize that their lives aren’t as perfect as they appear on the surface. The stronger the person appears the rockier their past usually is. What you see is someone strong, and brave. What they feel is broken and defeated. Every time someone tells me they finally feel like they have their ducks in a row, they get hit with a life changing curve-ball. Heck, the entirety of my last few years has been one huge curve-ball after another!

Don’t get me wrong, by no means am I saying not to try! What I am saying, is cut yourself some slack. Stop comparing your journey to other people’s, and start appreciating the life you have. Stop striving for perfection and start being proud of your progress. If you aren’t satisfied with a certain aspect of your life, find a way to change it.

So, go out there. Grow. Heal. Learn. Embrace your beautiful disaster of a self. And most importantly, remember no one really has their shit together. We are all just winging it.

Embrace your perfectly imperfect self,

-Charli

https://thechroniclesofchuck.home.blog/

Twin Flame: Karmic Twins

In the process of finding our twin, we will come across karmic twins. These people have also been referred to false twins but I dont think thats quite right. When we meet our karmic twin(s) we most likely are almost in complete alignment. They will mimic the pattern we look for in twins, seperation, lost connection and strong strong connection.

They will throw us out of alignment to dredge up what still needs healing. Our true twins will trigger us too, but with karmic twins things will not come easily.It will not be easy to bridge the gap with this person. With a Karmic twin your souls will align 90% instead of 100% with your true twin.

That 10% doesn’t seem like alot, but its huge, and its the part that counts. I’m not saying you will find your true twin flame only when they are 100% aligned. If you find them before that and they are your twin you may go through another separation.

The amount of karmic twins you will encounter all depends on what you have left to heal before coming into union, and this will be different for everyone.

Don’t get disheartened in your journey, it’s a hard but beautiful journey. Each one of our journeys is unique, just remember you and your twin decided your journey to each other before coming into the 3d flesh world.

Always be unapologetically true to yourself,

Ali

Karma, Fated Love, Soulmates, and Twin Flames. Part One: What is Fated Love?

What is fated love?

There are a lot of people who want to the find that one person they are meant to be with.This is fated love, not everyone has one in this lifetime, but the people that do know deep down that there is someone just for them out there.  Most people get this confused with a soulmate, or even a twin flame. The soulmate and twin flame journeys are very different experiences, I will get into those topics later.

Fated love is something quite special, it is someone you are meant for romantically in your souls current life cycle. Each of our souls life cycles are different, different loves, different lessons, and different soul purposes. When you meet this person, you will both know, and no matter what challenges you may face it seems like the universe just keeps pulling you two together. You will have unconditional love for one another, and will never be toxic for each other. This person with arrive in your life specifically to enrich it and grow with you. You may face lessons together but unlike a soul mate or a twin flame they with not be the ones to teach you this lesson or shock you into learning it.

Your fated love will start being drawn to you once you’ve learned your basic karma lessons and resolved patterns in yourself and behaviors. Along with your self growth and enlightenment from learning your karma, fated loves are like your prize for your hard work.

Fated loves are meant to be your life partner, they will share so many goals dream and aspirations with you it might seem scary, and if there’s anything you don’t share they will never belittle or make you feel small for having them. They will support you, and love you for everything you are.

Fated love is the stuff of dreams, And when its meant to find you it will.

Always be unapologetically true to yourself,

Ali

 

Ali will be bringing us a series to go with the title “Karma, Fated Love, Soulmates, and Twin Flames.”

Don’t Write About Me(!)

I have been writing since I can remember. I am not one for poems or fiction because to be blunt I’m pretty awful at it. My wheelhouse has always been pulling from what I’m going through.You can blame that on the many friends and family members who bought me diaries and journals.

The hard lesson I’ve learned over the years is when you write from the heart not only is it painful to put on paper it’s equally painful to read.

So as I was getting ready to approach this new chapter in my writing journey… see what I did there? I let those close to me know.

My sweet Dad who is to blame for me being both an avid reader and writer immediately yelled out “don’t write about me!”

I promise this is probably it Dad.. Sorta. But it is a slippery slope.

Every week I put myself out there.

I usually do have a plan. I keep a bunch of post its with topic ideas handy in case my ritual of an adult beverage and accompanying music of the moment leave me stuck.

But full transparency these blogs come from moments. They’re  moments that I think if I’m feeling this way maybe someone else is too and maybe just maybe they will read this and maybe not feel better, but know they’re not alone.

That can sometimes be the hardest thing. No matter who you are. But when I first left my ex husband I felt it. Hard. There were a few people who really stepped up and they know who they are.  That leads me back to the beginning of this post. When I write these I am trying so hard to not be hurtful, to keep things that are mine, mine but still share those moments.

In a recent post I alluded to a new person in my life. He caught it. Believe it or not I’m actually a pretty guarded person. If you read my series the Fixer of Broken Boys … well you know why. I’m working on it. So it can be hard for me to tell the people I care about what they mean to me, but I can write it here.

I know I don’t get it either.

Again, working on it.

It’s scary. Sharing your life. Your joys. Your not so great days. The ugly. The great. The newest wrinkle.

But that’s WHY I’m here. That’s why I’m write. That’s why I share. So on those days- YOU know someone’s got you Momma.

 

Hi there- my name is Caprise, I’m your tattoo’d, music loving, Henry Rollins obsessed, Mom of the  amazing G, single working Mom cheerleader… and I’m going to try my hardest to remind you we got this.

<3

A Dream With No Direction Or Work Is Just A Wish

A dream with no direction or work is just a wish.. All my life I’ve been a dreamer, but at the age of 29 single with three kids I couldn’t just dream anymore, It was time for action. I decided a while ago I wanted to be a realtor. So I put my nose to the grindstone and did research on how to become licensed in my state. Being on a fixed income I had to find the most affordable without taking away from the educational experience. Real estate board are extremely difficult to pass so if I was going to invest in myself I needed to do it right.

After a couple of months of research and saving I found a small local school where the classes were only 250 a peice. Three classes span over three weeks, A lot of information in a short amount of time for a price I could kinda afford. I got this I would tell myself every morning before class to quell the fear and self doubt. You see This was a big step a big process for me. I was making one of my dreams real and tangible. Which ment it was no longer protected and safe in my dream world… It could fail, I could fail. Reading myself affirmations every morning and simply telling myself I could do helped me push through all the obstacles I faced over the three weeks; I became extremely sick my second week, I refused to miss a day. the third and final week my car broke down, so I took the money I saved for my start up costs and repair my vehicle and then door dashed while I finished my classes to make up the money.

After all of that hard work I passed both of my exams, on my first try! I was so proud of myself. I quickly Joined a Brokerage, possibly too quickly. I became frustrated and felt uncomfortable in the office that I choose. After almost of two months of what felt like beating against a brick wall I switched brokers. I switched to a Team with Remax results and I am just starting to get back into the swing of things. I feel more comfortable here and I am excited to continue my journey as a Realtor.

Until next time..

Always be unapologetically true to yourself,

Ali

My First Date Post Marriage

My first date was with a guy from Tinder.

Don’t read that twice.

I did not expect that one date would turn into a dozen dates. I did not expect that he would make me laugh so hard my stomach hurt or that I wouldn’t even eat most of my meals we shared because we would be talking so much. I did not expect that when we would go places he would grab my hand, kiss my forehead, or pull me into him while waiting in line. I didn’t expect that I would love nothing more than walking into the door and seeing his face and wanting to literally wrap up in his arms. I didn’t expect how easy it would be to not only be emotionally but physically drawn to this man.

My therapist warned he was a rebound. Rebounds never work. I nodded, secretly thinking this could maybe be different. I justified that my husband was actually the rebound as he was my relationship right after my high school boyfriend. My therapist glared at me.

“Jessica, he is a rebound.”

One session he asked me very frankly what he was like.

“He feels like one gigantic sigh. I walk into his presence and I immediately relax. I am not a mom, I am not a manager, I am not an ex-wife. I can just be a woman and I can say and do as comes naturally, and I just…exhale.”

He was, and is, my first relationship post-marriage fail and he was…and still is…a great, big, sigh.

I love being a mother. I love my job. I adore my friends. I have a wonderfully supportive family. But I had no idea what I was getting into, what my actual intensions were for the long-term. I just knew what I no longer wanted and that was to feel like I was invisible and unimportant.

I liked having someone ask me about my day, my job, my children, how I slept. I liked having someone really look at me as they talked. Hell, I even liked when he pointed out stupid shit I did, like when I would walk to another room of his apartment and begin talking, totally facing the opposite direction of where he was located and expect him to hear me. The things he noticed made me laugh.

He loved how my eyes squinted when I smiled.

He loved my smile.

The way he caught my attention was by sending me a message that said something to the effect of “How many children do you have or do you want to show me your pile of mismatched socks and I’ll guess?”

A man with a child and a man who also had a pile of socks that never matched. You could have even called it foreplay.

An odd revelation I quickly had upon seeing him and emotionally finding myself positively smitten was that I had no idea how to have a relationship with a man and not be his wife.

I didn’t know how to not be someone’s wife.

It scared me. I didn’t know what dating was. I didn’t know what sex with a new person was. I didn’t know what you were supposed to say, or not say, how often to call, or text or see each other. So, I was myself.

And I felt alive.

I loved the way he listened to what I said and I loved that when he asked me questions he seemed to actually care how I replied. I loved the way he touched me, I loved the way he hugged me, I loved that he was well read, cared about current events, and history. Call him a humanitarian or a socialist, a man with a dry and crazy sense of humor, but just be sure to call him mine.

I loved the way he kissed me even though he kissed me differently than I’d been accustomed for twelve years.

Do you know what your first kiss is like after you thought you already had your last first kiss of your life a dozen years prior? Totally terrifying. Scarier than sex. It was a moment of no going back. My life had changed. It wasn’t ever going to be what I thought it would be when I walked down the aisle. The act both saddened me and freed me.

I was nothing but myself any time I was with him or spoke to him.

Within 90 days of saying goodbye to what I thought my life would be, I regained my life. I lost, and regained my home, traveling to stay between a half a dozen places with two children and two rabbits, living out of suitcases and laundry baskets for almost two months. My boss resigned. I helped host the largest, most important, global, annual event for my company. I assumed 100% financial accountability for every aspect of my life. I didn’t jump out any windows, run over anyone in a parking lot, stomp my feet and ugly cry in too many public forums, completely change my appearance or buy a one-way ticket to a mental institution. I had been through a tornado of hell and still managed to find my way in a relationship with a man who I found myself trusting, opening up to, and falling for.

I will admit it. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t like it. It feels uncomfortable for me. I like companionship. I like love. The house feels empty. So does my bed. This is what is supposed to happen to you after the last chapter ends.

This is the pain, the thrill, the punch in the gut after the curtain to one life closes and another opens.

I am just beginning a relentless journey toward simple, honest, uncompromising happiness.

Either hop in for the ride or get out. Because I deserve so much more than where I came from.

-Jessica: Awesome Single Mama