Filters, perceptions and adulating -- oh my!

"Life is all about perception. Positive versus negative. Whichever you choose will affect and more then likely reflect your outcomes." -Sonya Teclai

Adulting can be really confusing sometimes. It's this sweet mix of pain and heartache and surrender, joy and growth.

Growing up I thought stepping into the adult world meant life got easier. I use to look on at all the grown ups in my life and think, "Man, I can't wait to be an adult too. Life looks way more fun when you are older."

I had high hopes, big dreams and lofty aspiration as a kid. I was going to set the world on fire with my badass adutingness (That is a word in my adult world) and I could hardly wait to get there. Being an adult is what dreams were made of, right?  

Okay, so insert scratching record player and every head turning in my direction as if I just stepped into the room wearing nothing but a velvet fedora and a bright pink sash that say, "Look at me! Look at me! I'm a mother fing gangsta!" Stranger things have happened. 

Life, as an adult, is interesting to say the least. Some view it as the most amazing part of the human experience, full of incredible opportunities, exchanges, experiences and so on. Others are practically hammering the nails in their own coffin as they slowly let the days pass them by, loathing every minute,  just waiting for it all to be over. 

The only difference? Filters, perceptions and perspective. 

Right after my divorce I was living with my brother and sister-in-law back in my home town of Issaquah, Washington and my adorably sweet and ridiculously intuitive and smart nephew would often as me out of what felt like out of nowhere, "TT, when am I going to be an adult?" It was always said as if he was missing out on some kind of awesome toy that comes once you enter adulthood. I'm serious, we'd be in the middle of watching a movie or playing with his toys and he'd just pause, look up at me and ask, "TT, when am I going to be and adult?

I always took a long, deep breath, remembering what it felt like to be a kid longing to grow up fast. I'd looked at him, smile and say, "Oh buddy, you have plenty of time to be an adult. Just be happy and have fun being a kid. You'll have plenty of time to adult"

He'd always look back at me with a questioning stare as if I was hiding some big, crazy something from him like, the Easter Bunny was in fact, really a Turtle. Sometimes you can't win with kids. Sometimes kids are way more intuitive then we give them credit for. 

I often wondered how I could persuade him into slowing down a bit and just enjoy being a kid. How, if he was't careful, before he knew it he'd be thirty-six years old, looking back on his life wondering how it went by so fast. I want to tell him that there are some really beautiful things about the naivety of being a kid and you can never go back to that time in your life and so try and drag it out as long as possible.

Sometimes, when he'd ask me, "TT, when AM I going to be an adult?" these words would momentarily flash before me: 

Bud, adulting is scary business. Really friggin' scary. You see, there are all these expectations and responsibilities and one wrong move and you can completely screw everything up. Or at least it feels that way most of the time.  

And the choices. All the friggin' choices. God, are there A LOT of decisions to make. Like, seriously man. I mean, I work way better with multiple choice questions so why can't life work that way too? Just give me a few choices, I'll work my process of elimination and viola, I'll know exactly what to do and life will feel very easy. Instead, life feels like you are constantly writing a twenty-five page abstract essay on a time limit of about five minutes. Cause that's basically how fast life goes by when you reach adulthood bud. 

You think picking out a new toy is overwhelming sweet boy? Well, just wait until you have to pick out a whole friggin' life in a world that is constantly changing full of other adults who are trying to make similar choices. It can feel dark and scary and like there are storms brewing from every directions. 

Then there are experiences that happen that are just out of your control. Heartbreak, betrayal, lies, death, illness, losing jobs, falling in love, falling out of love, realizing the person you are with just can't love you back. Mommy and daddy aren't around twenty-four seven to put a bandaid on your broken heart or hold you when you are scared of the lions under the bed. And sometimes you lie in bed at night and just cry because it all just feels like too much and all you want to do is go back to a time when your biggest worry was how the hell you are going to hide the fact that you spilt milk on the couch from your mom and dad and you come up with the brilliant idea that you'll just simply let the dog lick it up and you are proud of yourself. 

Life works it's way so deep into your cells that you start to feel yourself become jaded and rough. You are constantly in a tug-a-war, an internal battle of staying soft and open verses becoming hard and crusty with every major life experience. 

Then there are these things called responsibilities. If you aren't careful they wills start to weigh you down like a one hundred pound weight that you are required to carry around every day, all day. All a result of some choice you made in the past. Another wrong turn you took when you were merely just trying to make, what you thought, was the best decision at the time. 

Oh, and whoa, I almost forgot, people are mean. And scary. I mean, not all of them, but there are a lot of them that are because most of them are just as scared and tired as you are and they are merely taking their frustrations and fears out on you. Their shoulders are just as heavy from the weight of their own stories. 

And don't get me started on failed dreams. All those things you wanted to do, all those places you wanted to go, the wild, crazy adventures you thought you'd experience on a regular basis, a lot of them probably won't come true and you'll be left feeling disappointed, depressed and wondering if this is really what life is supposed to be about. So, buddy, there is plenty of time to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Just stay a kid as long as you friggin' can, okay? 

I'd come to after a minute, shaking off the remnants of my own fears and instead, I'd smile, take a deep breath and say, "Buddy, you have plenty of time to be an adult. Just try and enjoy being a kid as long as you can, okay?" And he'd give me a confused look as if I just told him the Easter Bunny was, in fact, a Turtle. 

And then others times, quieter, peaceful, more self-reflective and grow-inspired times, I'd look at him and think: 

Buddy, if you can, try to stay young as long as possible but pay attention now because you will learn a lot about yourself, who you are, what you want to do, your gifts to the world. If you start to listen closely now, you'll learn that the voice inside of you is actually the truth. Its like an internal compass, helping you navigate your way through life. Its the way, the truth, and the light. Unfortunately, a lot of us stop listening to it as we get older and let other things guide us.

Adulting is amazing bud. It comes with freedoms you don't have as a kid like being able to make decisions for yourself. There are choices that you GET to make as an adult that mommy and daddy make for you as a kid. You GET to choose what you want to do and who you want to be. Isn't that exciting?   

And this bud, this is very important to remember so listen closely sweet boy; life does not happen TO you but FOR you. It's easy bud, to become a victim of life's circumstances. Believe me, your TT has perfected that. We can become jaded and fearful, afraid to get hurt again, to put yourself out there once more, to be seen, especially for an introverts like us. But just keep going. Keep breaking down walls or better yet, fight hard to never put them up to begin with. No matter how afraid you are just remember that life isn't about staying trapped in a protective bubble. Life is about stepping out of your comfort zone and finding the courage to keep going, despite the disappointments, the set back, the fears, the heartache, the pain and the betrayal.

All of it is for your growth as you move through life as an adult. I'll be honest, it doesn't always feel good. Some of it is heavy stuff and almost all of it is the result of a filter or perception we've taken on, sometimes a long time ago. But you want to know one of the coolest things about being an adult? You GET to change that if you want. You have all the freedom in the world to rewrite whatever story you'e been telling yourself. 

So bud, the hard moments are really the defining moments. They don't always make sense. You may end up going through the same experience many times, that too is intended for your growth. You see, until we learn what we need to learn, until we decide to change, life does that to you. It keeps bringing you the same people (just different faces) the same experience, and the same situation, until you decide to rewrite your story, to go down a different path, and to find the courage to react differently. 

Life can be extremely mesmerizing too bud. It can suck you in like when you stand barefoot on the beach, starring down as your feet sinking into the coolness of the sand. Or like when you stand at the shoreline as the waves lap over your feet and you stare out into the endless ocean horizon and feel so full of possibility. Or maybe like when you feel captivated by the crackling embers of the amber and yellow light from a campfire. Adulting has so many moments like that too. 

Buddy, being an adult is awesome. But so is the simplicity of being a kid. Your only job right now is to have fun and be open to new things. To explore and learn, to make mistakes and learn from them. Try not to carry those mistakes with you because if you aren't careful, they will start to feel really heavy and weigh you down later on in life. Learn from them, then brush them off and let them go. Don't let them become part of your story, don't let the cloud your filters and shape your perceptions. 

There will be seasons of pain and sadness. It will come and go, ebb and flow without any warning. If you can, accept that and ride the wave of feelings that come with it knowing that, as grandma always tells me, "This too will eventually pass and you will feel joy and happiness once again. Just give it time."  

And yes, there will be seasons of joy bud and man does this feel good. It kind of feels like every day for you now, as a kid. You wake up so excited for what the day will bring. You jump out of bed, take a big stretch and wonder what amazing thing you will experience today. You know that feeling bud, when we put on our rain boots and go on a walk and jump in puddle after puddle and we laugh and laugh until our bellies ache and are cheeks hurt from that incredible feeling we feel? Those days feel a lot like that. 

Life is a mix of those seasons little man, but always remember this; without the storms and the rain, there wouldn't be any puddles to jump in. 

Then I'd give him a smile and say, "See bud, there is a lot of great things about being an adult, but if you can, enjoy the experience of being a kid." And he'd still look back at me with his confused and questioning stare as if I told him the Easter Bunny was in fact, a Turtle.   

So which one is the truth? Which filter do you walk around with? The first? The second? A mix of both? I don't know. That isn't for me to decide for you. But I hope you think long and hard about the way you view life, the world around you and realize that perception is everything. And it's okay if sometimes you see the world as both because we all have good days and bad days, joyful seasons and sad ones. We would never fully appreciate the happiness that comes from the good times if we hadn't experience the bad ones. 

And it is ridiculously important to remember this one very things;  our filters create our present reality but what we see isn't always the truth. Sometimes we have to take a deep breath, step back and try to look at each situation, each experience, each person from a different perspective, a different angle, a different lens. We have to remember that life isn't happening TO us but FOR our greatest growth as human beings. 

Our filters and perceptions may not actually be the truth and the reality is, we should all smile at the fact that the Easter Bunny very well may in fact, be a Turtle to someone. 

The Funny Thing About Fear and why you should do the very thing that scares you most.

"Fear is the brains way of saying there is something important for you to overcome."

---

As I walked slowly into the water, my mind raced with all the possibilities. What if the current pulls me out too far and I can't get back in? What if a Sea Lion thinks I'm kind of cute and gets too close for comfort? What if the seaweed wraps itself around my leg and pulls me under? What if, on some off chance, a hungry Great White lost it's way and ended up north in La Jolla Cove, at the EXACT same time I pass the outlet and enter open waters? I grew up watching JAWS, I'm well aware this doesn't fair well for the human. 

My mind was racing. I had spent the early morning drive down to La Jolla from Encinitas trying to talk myself out of the open water swim I had committed to a few days prior. I don't NEED to do this. I'll be fine no matter what. I'll just take a gander on race day. I mean, I AM trying to take more risks and live more adventurously. I could turn around right now and send a text saying I woke up feeling sick. 

Sometimes I find myself thinking this whole living fearlessly thing is a joke. I mean, why not just play it safe? Why not stay tightly wrapped in my safe cocoon where it's warm and cozy? I know what to expect. I know the outcome. I know I will survive. Maybe I could find happiness living a life only dipping my toes in the water?

I know however, deep inside this isn't true. I know that I had already spent so may years living a life that felt safe yet feeling horribly miserable inside. I know that right on the others side of fear, is truth and the truth is, I need to live fearlessly in order to fully live. 

"I just need you to know I'm absolutely terrified right now." I said to Adriana as I approached her car. I met Adriana a few days prior when I went to her swim and sporting shop in downtown La Jolla to rent my Tri wet suit. She told me that she hosts free daily open water swims and invited me to go with her whenever I wanted. I knew that was probably a good idea for me to in the water before race day, More then anything though, I knew that the reason why I hadn't thus far wasn't for lack of time but because I was scared. So I did what has become a regular habit for me and said yes before I thought it through. 

She looked back at me and cracked a crooked smile, "You should be." 

I laughed with the hopes that it would momentarily ease my fears. I stood at the railing and looked out at the sea. "Yeah, she's mighty big and powerful. She's got a whole lot of sass, even more then me! But, I suppose if I respect her, maybe she'll do the same in return." I said in a half statement, half question as we headed down the stairs towards the water. 

"Exactly." Adriana replied. "We are just going to go really slow. We can stop and turn around whenever you want."  Nice and slow. Got it. 

I scanned my surroundings and watched the abnormally large amount of Sea Lions snuggling on shore, flopping around on each other and crying out in their deep guttural screams, telling me, what I imagined was, "DON'T GO IN THE WATER!" 

"I kind of just want to go join them." I said in my dry, sarcastic tone as I pointed to the baby Sea Lions frolicking on the shoreline. "They look fun." I gave Adriana a cheeky grin and looked back at the ocean. I took a deep breath and a step forward as the water lapped up my legs. I continued walking in further as I pulled my goggles over my eyes and with a whisper said, "Fuck it" and dove in. 

As we swam to our first check in point, I focused on my breath. "Just breath Amanda. Let go. Trust." Something that has never been easy for me but has become a regular mantra in my daily life.  At first I found it hard to look around beneath the water. I focused on taking a breath each time I turned my head up towards the sky. There it is, it's right there. Comfort, safety.

When I did Lavaman, the olympic distance triathlon on the Big Island back in 2009, we had the privilege of listening to one of the top Ironman competitors, whom for the life of me I can't remember his name. What I remember most about his talk was when he discussed the swim. He said that whenever you feel yourself start to panic, whenever you feel frightened or scared, turn your head towards the sky and you'll find comfort.  

I felt my heart rate come down as I glided along the water. "I can do this." I thought. "I AM doing this." I corrected myself. And then a thought occurred to me,  I realized I was missing out on half the fun of what I was doing by letting fear consume me. "It's not very often that we get the opportunity to see what's below the surface Amanda." I said to myself. "Open your eyes and look." 

Something magical happens when we look at our fears straight in the face. They don't seem so scary anymore. When we begin to strip away the stories that we've built up around those fears, we start to see the truth; that we have made them into the very thing they are. 

I scanned the murky waters and sang Mary Had a Little Lamb to myself, another tip I picked up at Lavaman. Pick a song and sing it as you swim. It calms you down just as looking at the sky does. Why Mary Had a Little Lamb, probably has something to do with the fact my mom used to sing it to us at bedtime when we were little. It was comfort.  

As we approached our goal, the small round white buoy about a quarter of a mile out, I reach out and slapped my hand on the bobbing circle and smiled as I turned back and looked at the shoreline. We sat there treading water as we looked back at what we had just accomplished. 

"I wish everyone could see this." I said to Adriana. "More then anything, I wish people knew that right past fear is the most incredible thing ever -- that feeling of really living. The belief that anything is possible" Adriana smiled at me and we headed back towards the shore.

As I drove home, full of hope and excitement and a readiness to take on the world, I thought about the things that still scare me and plotted and planned how I was going to overcome them. 

Some of the greatest things we will ever do in our lives often happen right past our biggest, deepest fears. The interesting thing is, once we do that very thing we are scared of, we realize it wasn't as big of a deal as we made it out to be. We can get so consumed with the what if's and playing it safe that we miss out on a lot of magic and wonder beneath the surface.  

I thought about some of the other fears I've been holding on to, ones that are deeply ingrained in me.  I got really curious as to why I find myself craving protection and safety from the very things I want most and wandered off into the dreamy world of fantasizing about what it would be like to have the very things I want. Then I thought about how I would move past the fear and into creating the reality I want.

I want to live a life that feels aligned with the truth that is in the deepest part of my soul and I never again want do something because I feel this need to fit in or be 'normal.' I want to run with the wild and brave and have the confidence to stand up for and pursue my dreams and do what I feel called to do, even if it triggers my own and other's fears. 

I want to speak my truth and live it with the deepest sense of integrity. I've always believed that actions speak louder then words and I hope my words always are aligned with my actions. And I hope my actions are based on living fearlessly and being brave. However, in order for me to do all of this, I have to identify my fears and get really comfortable with them and that isn't always easy. 

I realized that trying new things isn't the issue for me. Looking at that kind of fear is the easy part for me. I'll always be jumping into the next big thing. A 22 mile day hike up Mt. Whitney with a 6500 foot elevation gain? No problem. Sign me up. A half Ironman? Sure! Why not! Traveling to unfamiliar cultures and navigating my way around? Yes, please! 

As I drove home I realized that the fear that really holds me back from truly living isn't the kind that comes with taking the risk of swimming in the depths of the dark waters of the ocean but rather it stems from being frightened of navigating the depths of my heart and bravely acknowledging past pain and hurt, and choosing forgive and move forward into vulnerability anyway.  What really prevents me from living the life I truly dream of has less to do with trying new things and everything to do with feeling scared of whats lies inside of me. 

I'm reminded of this quote by Marianne Williamsome. 

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us."

And never have these words meant more to me then once I discovered the missing piece of the puzzle of my fears. I'm not frightened of doing the physical things; big, brave and courageous things that push my body in crazy ways. What I've come to learn is that my biggest fear is I'm terrified, absolutely frightened, of being seen. Really, truly, deeply seen.

I know I will always continue doing the big and risky things like climbing mountains and swimming in dark waters and pushing my body to it's limits but the fear I need to face now leaves my breath staggered and my heart racing. It leaves me feeling vulnerable and naked and grasping for air. 

This fear is its own beast and one I have little experience with. It's navigating dark open waters of a different kind and leaves me feeling like I can't catch my breath. 

I know however, that until I can face this fear head on, I'll never truly live an authentic existence. I know part of my purpose is right past this fear. My deepest fear is never allowing myself the opportunity of being open and vulnerable. My deepest fear is that I'll never fully let down my guard with another and let them love me. My deepest fear is that I won't let those that care about me in all the way. My deepest fear is that I'll live behind the protection of my computer and the words I write and share on paper and never be able to speak them in person. My biggest fear is the pains of my past will continue to haunt me and run on repeat in my mind, convincing me that I will never be enough. My deepest fear is that I'll one day take my last breath and feel the disappointment that I let labels and identities run my life instead of allowing my light and love from deep within seep out and be shared with the world. 

That is what my deepest fears really look like. 

There is however, a greatness here as I share this with you and that is I now know the truth and once you know the truth and you have shared it out loud, it's almost impossible to forget. It's almost impossible to live life unaffected by what you've learned. 

 I have come to a reckoning I have never come to before and as scary as these waters are to swim, I have to take the chance. I have to bravely move forward, knowing that moving past these fears will open up a world of magical wonder of it's own kind. It may not be easy but I also now know that at any time, all I have to do is turn my head and look towards the sky and breath. But I must keep moving forward. 

I can do this too. I AM doing this.   

And here begins the greatest journey I will ever take. One that involves peeling back those walls I spent so many years building up. 

Who will join me?

An Old Fashion Girl's Thoughts on Dating, on pain and growth and her happily ever after.

Ah, yes. This post.  Here's a little warning: it's long(er).

The Backstory

As we drove North on I-405, I sat in the front seat as my pregnant sister-in-law squeezed in between my niece and nephew in the back of their Ford Escape. My older brother sipped his latte and they talked with the kids about the nature of our drive north. Trying to explain to a four and two year old that grandpa is now in heaven with Jesus is like trying to explain how babies are made. Both awkward, confusing and a delicate dance of deciding how much to share. And then your four year old nephew asks, "when am I going to heaven with Jesus?" And your heart crumbles just a little. 

It was May 18th and I had been back in Seattle for only a few days. I was settling in to my new life, setting up my home living with my older brother and sister-in-law, niece and nephew. I was also back in the same town I grew up in and my life all of the sudden felt like a made for TV movie. 

It was the day of my grandpa's memorial service who passed away almost a month earlier, the same week I decided to leave my husband. My cat, the only thing that made me feel someone normal in this new world I was navigating, had been missing for 15 hours, and it would have been my third wedding anniversary. I sighed, releasing the heavy breath I had been holding on to as I gazed out the window watching the forest green pines pass by at rapid speed. I focused on the afterglow, that stream of light you see when moving at fast speeds.

I thought about the day ahead, the inevitable questions, the comments, the sympathetic looks, and I knew that all it would take was just one and I would crumble. I prayed that I could hold it all together.  

We stepped into the church and were all a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of people who came to pay their respects to my grandfather. He was a man who dedicated himself to serving his community and it showed. I plastered on a fake smile and reminded myself that this was about celebrating the wonderful and hilarious person that was my grandpa. However, at any time, I could always use my niece or nephew as an excuse to step away. I eyed the vacant nursery room full of toys and books and planned my potential escape, hiding away in a room full of giggles, toy trains and Bernstein Bears Books. 

The service was a beautiful tribute to my grandpa and for the first time, I felt relief from my own pain by celebrating his memory. After the service, we gathered in the room adjacent to potluck. As I walked down the dimly lit hallway I coached myself for all the possible outcomes, "This is it Amanda. Just get through this and you can head home and lie on the couch with Henry and Kate and watch Thomas the Train. Everything will be fine." 

I did my best to avoid, turning conversations around to focus on the other person but somewhere inside I knew it was inevitable. And I know people meant well. It's an awkward situation to be in really. They are saying and doing what they think will help, offering up any words that will potentially make all of this easier. What I really wanted was for them to say nothing or to just say, "I know this sucks. I'm sorry." Instead, I was met with the expected:

"There are so many amazing men out there Amanda."

"Honey, there are plenty of fish in the sea,"

"He doesn't know what he's losing. What a jerk!" 

"You'lI meet the right person when its time."

I politely excused myself, walking as fast as I could to the double doors at the back of the church cafeteria, picking up my pace until I was jogging to the playground where Henry was playing with my bonus dad. I knew I could find some reprieve with them. I knew it would be all talks of Thomas and dinosaurs. No divorce. No dating. No men. No eventually. 

 I sat on the swing watching Henry squeal with excitement as he repetitively slide down the slide and for a few moments I was able to escape the thoughts that at some point, I would have to navigate that deep sea with all those colorful fish once again.

But for now, I pumped my feet back and forth as the swing took me higher and higher and Henry's giggles temporarily filled the cracks in my heart.  

---

Two Years Later

A lot has changed in the world of dating since I was last on the market. It seems to me, that dating had become an interesting and complex game of "online" cat and mouse. There was a time, back in my early twenties, that I tried online dating. Back then it was only Match.com and eHarmony. The latter felt a little too intense for me at the time, and I gave Match a go. I met a few really great guys and ended up dated one with a lot of potential. However, that was right before all my surgeries and I tried to be in the relationship as I was going through everything but in the end, realized I had nothing to give at the time and ended it to his disappointment. 

This was eleven years ago and a time when online dating wasn't really something you discussed openly. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me, like I was awkward and lacked normal social skills that were necessary to meet men. Which was partially true, I'm notoriously awkward when it come to flirting and showing someone I'm actually interested in, that I am, in fact, interested in them. 

However, in just six short years since I was last on the market, online dating has become rather mainstream and culturally accepted. It almost feels expected of you when you are single. Check almost any single persons phone and it's covered with apps like Tinder, Bumble, Plenty of Fish, Match, eHarmony, OK Cupid, Chemistry.com, Christian Mingle, JDate, Farmersonly.com...and trust me, the list goes on and on. As a single person, you start to feel that if you are not connected to several of them at once, you are possibly missing someone. Even worse, you are possibly missing THE ONE. I mean, I did love living on a farm. Just saying. (I'm kidding. I am not on Farmersonly.com)

When I initially moved to San Diego, I was ten months post split and felt the self-inflicted pressure to start dating again. That and the fact that I found out my ex was in a full-blown relationship, I begrudgingly joined Tinder and Bumble. However, since I was new here, and can be somewhat awkward and shy, I tried to look at it as good way to meet new people. Even if they were all men.  Within the first few weeks I meet two really great guys and dating both of them briefly. However, both ended after just a few weeks as I came to the realization that I was absolutely not ready to date.

I had spent the better part of my first year divorced running from one thing to the next, and found myself, for the first time ever, with this new feeling of wanting to be alone. This was rather confusion for someone who spent the better part of her twenties looking for that one. And when I say better part of I mean ALL of my twenties. 

 But since I was fully committed to learning and growing from my split, I listened to the need for solitude and took a vow of celibacy and dedicated myself to the time it would take to explore my feelings. I knew dating and those apps would only cause a distraction from working this process. 

So I took the apps off my phone, put some other things I was pursuing on hold and allowed myself to just feel the wave of those, at times, obnoxious, yet necessary emotions. And it sucked. I'm serious. I now fully understand why so many people run from their pain. It's quite literally the worst, most confusing and uncontrollable feeling ever. At least with physical pain, like when you cut yourself or break a bone, you know there is an ending in site. You know that pain is brief and temporary. Emotional pain is being thrown into the unknown. There is no timeline, no guidelines, no bandaid or stitches to speed up the healing process. Just waiting, and waiting, and waiting, hoping, that eventually, you'll make it out on the other side and feel like yourself again. 

I realized though, that it is a necessary part of healthy adulting. Dealing with pain that is. I knew that if I truly wanted to show up in the world, and eventually, the dating world again healthy, I had to come to understand my habits and patterns which meant I was going to have to get down and dirty with the shits of my past. I had to come to an understanding. I had to figure out why I felt so unworthy of a healthy, loving, kind, compassionate, trustworthy, loyal, funny, and wonderful man. The man I had always dreamed of. 

This doesn't mean that I didn't get distracted by a guy or two (or three). Old habits die hard, right? As much as I wasn't looking to date, I felt like I kept getting tested to see how I was progressing. There were a couple of guys I met in "real" life during this time that I thought I wanted to get to know and see if there was any chemistry. They showed interest, one even asked me out, the old fashion way, by calling me on the phone which blew my mind. However, he ended up meeting someone else while on a vacation prior to our actual date and felt like he wanted to pursue that. This has actually happened to me way more then I care to admit. I also happen to be the girl who a guy dates right before he ends up meeting the one he marries. This may have contributed to my awkwardness over time. 

 That experience, though, brought up more of those shitty feelings. Feelings of unworthiness, of acceptance, of never being 'enough' and I again realized I needed to continue to put dating and men on hold because what I've come to discover is that when you are in an emotionally unhealthy place you exude a smell that repels the healthy ones and you end up attracting the very thing you don't want...the unhealthy male version of yourself. 

So I dove into some creative outlets and just went back to giving myself more time and allowed more of those shitty feelings to come up. This is right about the time that Adele's hit single, Hello came out. Good Lord that woman knows how to puncture my heart in the best, and worst, kind of way. The first time I heard this song I found myself sobbing uncontrollably on my living room floor. I mean, "I'm in California dreaming of who we use to be..." I'm pretty sure she wrote that song with me in mind. 

Those tears were only the beginning though. It was like an emotional detox. It was going to feel worse before it felt better. I was dealing with the pain, the pain of betrayal, of expectations never met, of loss, the death of my 'old fashion, happily ever after.' And it hurt. It hurt bad. 

So I began to explore this hurt and while talking with a friend, she made an interesting observation about something I was saying. "I really don't think it has anything to do with him anymore Amanda" she said matter of fact. "It seems, to me, that it has everything to do with a lifetime of feeling unworthy and you just keep attracting men that are going to help you perpetuate this story." 

"Yeah, I know" I said with a sign. 

I already knew this. In the deepest part of my gut, I knew that I was actually the one that needed to change. That I had spent a lifetime trying to FIND someone that would make me feel complete, make me feel whole and worthy but the reality is, Jerry Maquire had it all wrong, YOU don't complete me...only I CAN complete me. And for the first time I saw the beauty in that. Only I can heal these wounds. Only I can fill those holes with love and kindness and accepting my messy, unruly imperfections. 

So this lead me to explore more of that. I got really curious with feelings that came up. I'd ask myself WHY a lot and I would just keep digging until I got some kind of answer, even it if was painful. 

And this is when I came to realize why so many avoid the pain. We live in a world that says feeling that pain is wrong. That we have to be strong and brave and courageous and that means we have to be void of any feelings other then ones that feel good. But without the pain, I'm not sure we will ever really know ourselves fully. 

I did this for a while, exploring the pain. And then one day I finally saw a light. Well, I didn't actually SEE a light but I felt lighter. I felt like I understood why I tend seek out a man who will save me and I realized that IS NOT what I want. I don't need or want to be saved. I want a partner. Someone who has his life and who respects that I have mine, and together, we share  adventures, laughter, vulnerability, passion and love, but know that we are perfectly capable and happy exploring this alone too. 

I had a good grasp on where I was going emotionally and had worked through a lot of pain. I had finally started shedding the dead skin of my past and was ready. Ready to get curious about dating again. 

So in January, after a long discussion with my roommate about how online dating is totally and 100% acceptable now, I connected back into Tinder and Bumble. Right away I met a guy and we spent a little time getting to know each other, went on a date and he was nice but for the first time, I listened to my gut when it screamed nope, this isn't it. There wasn't Chemistry. It was good on paper but not something I wanted to pursue any further. Chemistry, the kind where you just want to spend hours talking with someone getting to know them through laughing and flirting and stories and when its time to say good-bye, you find it hard to peel yourself away because there is just so much more to know. That is what I want. 

And then I found that chemistry a few weeks later with a roamer, a gypsy of sorts, a vagabond, a free spirit and he told me right away he wasn't looking for anything. And I fell back into old behaviors of convincing myself I was fine with that. See, old habits die hard.  I should have turned away then but I was pulled in by intrigue and chemistry and the old fashion belief that anything is possible.  We spent two days together and then he drove off, taking the possibility with him.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pretty disappointed, however, one of the best pieces of advice my mom ever gave me, something she actually learned from Oprah, was that people will show you who they are and where they are right away. It's your responsibility to believe them and not try to convince and manipulate otherwise.  

The realization I took away from that experience was actually pretty wonderful. It reminded me that the partner I hope to one day meet loves and values adventure and wanderlust just as much as I do. He knows how to treat a women. He knows the difference between "hanging out" and taking me on a date. And believes that I deserve dates. He has manners and perseverance and intrigue in pursuing me. He seeks the same kind of unconventional freedom that I do yet neither one of us will want to drive away from the potential. We will both be curious enough to lean in, even just a little. 

And more then anything, what I've taken away from all of this, this entire experience, every single part, from the pain of exploring my feelings after divorce to embarking on this new socially acceptable way of meeting a potential mate, is this new and intriguing peace with being happy alone.

What once felt like a personal defect, for once feels like a blessing. I know that no one will complete me. No somebody is going to come along on his white horse and save me and give me my happily ever after. Only I can really create that for myself. 

For the first time ever, whether I'm single or in a relationship, bares no weight on my sense of worthiness. It no longer dictates whether or not I live my adventure fully, or wait for someone to do it with.  For the first time, I feel truly excited about my own future, my own dreams, my own adventure. I'm excited to continuing building a life that feels truthful to me.

I am hopeful that, at some point, I'll meet a man that compliments my dreams, my desire for adventure and laughter and comfortable mutual ease. And we will add to each others lives but all the while, continue creating our own. 

That, to me, is happly ever after. 

The End. 

The Struggle is Real - Thoughts On Aging Gracefully with saggy boobs

"there is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. when you learn to tap into this source, you will truly have defeated age."

- sophia loren

For a really long time I thought I was never going to age. Seriously. I thought that I was going to be the one person that skipped the inevitable, and remain the youthful version of myself forever. I am not kidding here. 

I'm fortunate to have genes that grace me with a somewhat youthful look and leave me looking at least six years my junior. However, they led me down a road that confused me into believing I would be saved from the inevitable truth; that we all will grow old. Five months shy of thirty-six, I often get met with the wide-eyed looks of surprise and confusion when I correct someone who thinks I'm in my mid to late twenties. Flattered I am, but I often wonder if that has more to do with my, at times, introverted and immature nature, rather then actually looking younger. 

As I see it when looking in the mirror, the years are written all over my face. Battle scars from a life well lived, hard lessons learned and years of running "wild and free" in the sun, slathered not in sunscreen but baby oil, as I told myself, "I'll just deal with it when I'm older. Ha ha ha" I guess the joke is on the older version of me now. 

 I have aches and pains in places I use to roll my eyes at when my mom would complain of similar ailments and I find myself typing in "anti-aging night cream" in the Amazon search bar more often then I care to admit. My boobs, once perky and youthful, are slowly working their way south and I have images of them swaying closer to my belly button then my actual chest, sometime in the near future. And I've now taken to smoothing out the "ruffness" on my face with the more then occasional plucking of dark, course rouge stray hairs. I can't believe I just admitted that to you. The struggle is real. 

And then, there is dating which I think I'll reserve for an entire post of its own, however after being married and thinking my life was going down a certain path and now, navigating the dark waters of dating in an online dating world, where there is something more shiny and youthful and new around every corner, I find myself drifting off into thoughts of my fifties living in a little cottage by the sea with my litter of fur children and shelves of books to keep me company. All with the occasional visit from my niece and nephews. Someone has to look out for me when I'm older and they love their TT, no matter what I look like. 

This my friends, is aging gracefully. 

The funny thing is, I really do love aging. I was always wanting to hang with the adults when I was younger. I preferred real conversation over superficial talks of clothes and trends. I preferred curling up in my bed on weekends hanging out with characters in books to raging parties where everyone tried to act older then they really were.I mean, I secretly played with barbies until I was at least twelve. That doesn't mean I didn't succumb to the pressurel, I was, after all, an insecure and impressionable youth. 

However, I was young and did things because I desperately wanted to feel,"normal." Whatever that means. I wouldn't however,  want to go back to that time for anything. Sure, I wouldn't mind if the girls would solute me in the mirror rather then warm my waste line, but all jokes aside, I really love the person I am becoming as I step into this new chapter of my life. 

I find myself shedding old stories of what my life is supposed to look like and taking more risks as I become more aligned with the life I actually want.

I want to feel good from the inside out. 

What is most alluring about aging gracefully is this unusual newness of starting to not giving a f$%K what others think. That is a newness that I find intriguing. That is something I've never experienced before. 

This isn't to say that I don't want to feel my best or I'm just throwing in the towel. I think as we work on our insides, our outsides should match. As I grow into the adult I want to be, I want an outer shell that can support her. And so its give and take. Its balance. It's accepting that I can't change my past but I can shape my future however I want it to look. 

An old friend (no pun intended. We've literally been friends since age 20) and I were talking on the phone yesterday when the topic of aging came up. I mentioned how strange it was, the day I realized I was no longer that youthful twenty-something, and was actually closer to forty then thirty. We started laughing as she confessed that occasionally she walks by a mirror and sees her mother and how it sends her into fits of panic. "Man, where did the time go?" we laugh. And then we laugh even harder because we just said, "Man, where did the time go?" as we confess how we promised ourselves we'd never say that and start talking about all the other things we promised we'd never say, yet now find ourselves saying all the time. 

Aging is an interesting and extremely humbling experience. When I was living with my brother and sister-in-law, Henry, my five year old nephew would often ask me, "TT, when am I going to be a grown up?" and I'd always respond by saying, "Henry, you have plenty of time to be a grown up. Just be a little kid right now." 

But it got me thinking, we spend so much time when we are younger rushing to grow up and yet, here I am, "All grown up" and I can't help but wish that time would slow down, just a little bit, so I can catch my breath and really take it all in. 

As that cliche saying goes, "Life is short." 

And then all of this got me thinking that; man, life IS short so why do I waste so much time on things that don't matter? Like my sagging boobs and reading reviews on anti-aging cream on Amazon. And caring what others think. And being afraid of trying new things. And the list goes on. 

You can't erase your past and maybe that is what I'm trying to do with slathering on creams and lotions that tout gimmicks of restoring you to your youthfulness? There is no going back so you might as well buckle up and enjoy the ride going forward, saggy boobs and all. 

Aging gracefully, to me, is more about accepting your past and focusing on the here and now. Yes, another cliche but you gotta think that all these cliches have something to them, right? I mean, when they were originally quoted, you have to believe that who ever came up with said cliche actually, truly believed that what they were saying was one of their biggest "ah ha" moments in their life and they were just trying to spare us all and help pave the long and at times, tumultuous path. 

 I guess what I'm trying to say is I want to spend more time living, like, really living and less time worrying about aging because as I've come to realize, its inevitable. As my dad always said, 'we are all dying a little more every single day." Depressing, yes, but true nonetheless. We wake up thinking we'll get to it later, all those things we want to do, and then we realize twenty-years has gone by and we are left wondering, "Man, where did the time go?"

My friends, lets all let go of the should of's, the could of's and the would of's of our past and just cut to living. Truly living. 

As I embrace the sagging, the crows feet and the crinkles in my butt, I'm stepping forward into my second half of my thirties with a new fierceness and commitment to living well. I'm committed to taking care of my body, my mind and my spirit, not for vanity, but because I realize I deserve to feel my best. I deserve to feel that freedom within that only comes with truly living a life on purpose. 

Will you join me? 

I'll leave you with a song that has been circulating in my head ever since I started writing this post, one my mom used to sing to me as a young child that would send me into fits of giggles but has recently taken on a whole new meaning...

"Dooooo yourrrr...boobs hang low, do the wobble to and fro, can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them in a bow, can you throw them over shoulder like a continental solider, do your boobs, hang low?

And my friends, to that I say fucking celebrate your sagging boobs. 

Broken-heart, closed heart, open heart, full heart

"She made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible.
She walked with the Universe on her shoulders and made it look like a pair of wings."

- Ariana Dancu

The title of this post actually came to me back in August of 2015 while I was on a cool, early morning run on the beach. True to form, out of seemingly nowhere, these four words echoed in my head and I couldn't shake them. I felt this overwhelming urge to stop and sit on one of the cold, sand-covered rocks and gaze out at the ocean when suddenly warm tears began to slide down my cold, wind-kissed cheeks, and these words came to me: broken-heart, closed-heart, open-heart, full-heart.

I sat there in a bit of confusion because I knew well enough that my heart was not full and it was barely even open. However, it no longer felt broken and I could feel the light slowly start to creep back in as I continued to process not only the events of the following two years but more importantly, what lead me down that path to begin with. So, to feel such a connection to these four words left me a little dumbfounded. 

However, there was an unexplainable deep knowing that this was something I was supposed to write about and when I got home I sat down at my computer and typed out the title thinking the words that needed to be shared would immediately follow. Nothing came and I grew more frustrated. Most of the time when this happens words to accompany the title follow shortly there after. But month after month nothing came. But something inside told me to be patient and nine months later they finally came and it all made sense.

The other day, as I was cleaning out my room, purging myself and my life of anything that I no longer felt belonged , I stumbled upon my wedding dress. Something I thought I had gotten rid of months ago. It was tucked under some clothes that were stuffed in a garment bag I kept under my bed. I pulled out the short dingy white Nicole Miller dress we purchased four years early at Nordstrom and stared at it, waiting for the inevitable sadness to come but the strangest thing happened. It didn't. I paused and scanned the room, feeling as if some kind of joke was being pulled on me. Where was that familiar heaviness? Where was the deep sadness? The tears?

A smile slowly cracked from my lips as I cocked my head to one side.

"Huh?" I said out loud to my four-legged companion who was curled up in a ball on the floor by my bedroom door. He looked back at me with his usual indifferent blank stare. "So this is it." I said. 

I pulled the dingy white dress off the hanger that accompanied it in the garment bag under my bed. "I wonder if it'll be different if I put the dress on?" I asked Oliver. He cracked a single eye open and gave me a look that said, "shh, can't you see I'm sleeping?" I smiled back at him with a look that said, "Yes, but I don't care."  I slide out of my tattered jean shorts and mint green 'The Moon Made Me Do It' crop tank top, throwing them in a pile on the floor. I stood there, naked, clutching on to my past with both my hands.

Nothing.

I unzipped the back of the dress and slowly, one foot at a time, stepped in. beginning to work the dress up to my hips. 

Still, nothing.

I gently worked the dress up and over my freshly tan hips, being extra careful as I pulled the dress over my rear. All those squats have added a little extra junk in my truck and with one gentle tug, I had the dress up and was sliding one arm at a time into the arm holes and carefully zipping up the back. 

 Nothing.

I hesitated as I lifted my gaze, waiting for my past to finally catch up and for the flood of tears to come rushing out.

Nothing. 

It was like staring at a long lost friend in the mirror. Someone who I thought I knew so well yet today, is only a distant memory. If I could only go back and tell her what I know now. If I could tell her how brave and courageous she really was. If I could tell her that she needn't do anything she truly didnt't want to do. That love, real love, didn't look or feel that way. I wonder if she would have ever gone through with it? I wonder if she would have ever said yes? 

A smile broke loose and spread across my face, as coincidently, the sounds of Sia's 'Wild One' echoed in the background and I stared my past down in the mirror. Laughter broke free, quietly at first until a thunderous fit of wild giggles erupted from deep within and suddenly I was dancing with my past, wildly across the living room floor as Oliver looked on in a mix of pure confusion and terror. 

So this is what it really means to be wild and free. And for the first time, the title of this post had words. After months of waiting, her transformation was clear:

Broken heart, closed heart, open heart, full heart.