Feet First!


I’m not sure exactly when it clicked for me. The past 6 months, I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching. Not just the sitting in silence, pondering life part. I mean the making lists and digging REALLY deep into who I am and who I want to be. Maybe it was turning 44—a mid-life crisis sort of thing. Maybe it was having my dream job and still feeling unhappy and unsatisfied. Whatever started this ball rolling, I am glad it did. I have never felt more empowered, motivated, and aligned as I do right now, in this moment.

This uneasiness I was feeling, this sense of having  no purpose, no path—it literally brought me to my knees. And I’m being completely honest here. I spent much of April and May of this year in bed. In tears. In complete and utter hoplessness. If I had the job I always wanted, the love of my life by my side, two magnificent boys ensconced at top-notch colleges, my elderly parents still alive and living with me, all the material things I wanted, why the hell was I in complete and utter despair? What the hell was wrong with me?

Yes, I’ve lived with depression my entire life. I know its in’s and out’s. I know its lies and destruction. I know how it seeps into your blood and into your soul. I know how that bitch sneaks into your bed at night and steals every ounce of happiness you had, with no reason, no rhyme, no warning. This was beyond that. This was a completely new thing. This was me floating helpless with no idea where I was going. I was no longer just depressed; I was lost. I, the real me, was gone.

I’ve been changing my eating habits and fitness habits since the first of the year. I’ve blown up over the last 18 years. I mean, BLOWN UP. I was about 100 pounds overweight. And I think here is where the moment of clarity came to me. It was on a treadmill, when I thought I couldn’t go any further. I was about to push the “stop” button on my treadmill, when I looked at my time. I was on there for 40 minutes. At a high speed and incline. When I first started in February, I could barely do 10 minutes with no incline and at a low speed.

Wait a second? Did I really do that?  Did I really come this far in a few months?  And I did this on my own. Yes, with support, but ultimately I was in control. It was when I realized how strong I could be physically that I realized how strong I am emotionally and mentally. I have been through so much shit in my life—I mean seriously. And here I am. Still. No matter what life has thrown at me, I’ve gotten through. And there it was, the truth I needed. Everything I needed was inside ME. I didn’t need to look to a job, to my love, to my nice car—-what I needed to thrive was me.

Now, I feel free. Is everything perfect and happy? No. Is my depression suddenly gone? No. But, now I know that the power lies inside me to overcome anything life throws at me. I am scared to death. I’m flying without a lifeline. I’m starting my own business to coach others to find themselves, to harness their power, and to do so with writing. I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself.

I’m jumping in feet first! And I’ve never felt so fearless in my life.



Sequins and Lace


My good friend from high school posted a link on Facebook today. It was about the shutdown of the Jessica McClintock line of dresses. Now, if you are under the age of, let’s say mid-thirty something, that name may not be that familiar to you. Jessica McClintock (and also the Gunne Sax line) was every girl’s dream.

I am a child of the 1980’s. Back then, every girl wanted one of those gorgeous, lacy, sequined dresses that would make her look and feel like an absolute princess the night of that long awaited school dance. I would drag my poor mom to the local dress store downtown and try on 15 dresses. I always knew which one I wanted beforehand, because I had circled it in the Seventeen magazine I had received in the mail. But, I tried them all on anyway, because dresses have always been my most favorite articles of clothing. I would spend hours twirling around in front of that dressing room mirror, imagining the boy of my dreams on my arm. I was such a girly girl….wait, I AM such a girly girl.

My girl friends and I would spend hours doing bad make-up and styling our badly permed hair, just to spend hours in a stinky old gym, waiting for that right guy to ask us to dance. But, before we knew it, “Come Sail Away” was playing and the night was over. All that prep work, all that shopping and money spent on a dress for a few hours of dancing and looking longingly at our crush from the corner of the gym. But, it was all worth it just to wear that beautiful dress.

I own an online eBay store, where I sell name brand clothing at a discount price. In my hunt for bargains, I’ve run across some of those dresses. They are a bit rough around the edges, the threads frayed, showing the passing of the years. These beautiful reminders of my youth are now labeled “vintage”. Wait, what? When I first saw something I remember wearing labeled vintage, the sands of time flew smack dab in my eye and blinded me!! If the dress I wore to my senior prom is vintage, then I must be too!

Like the dresses of my youth, I am frayed around the edges, worn out a bit with the passage of time. But, I still have a lot of life in me. There may be a few sequins missing, but I still sparkle. In my mind, I am still that teenager searching for the perfect dress to make me feel like the most beautiful, sophisticated girl in the world. 


Me and my prom date. Senior year, 1990;