I speak my mind,
I cuss like a sailor,
I am open as a book,
if you ask a question be prepared to hear the answer,
hell…make sure you want to hear the answer…
Life is a combination of experiences. Some are happy and beautiful and some are sad and painful. But, the journey is awesome and worth the trip!
I understand depression and the darkness more than most.
I am mostly nice, but I can be rude and snarky, too. And my humor is sometimes a bit dark.
I think that everyone makes choices, I care about my friends and family, and support them, even if I don’t agree with them. I love unconditionally, there are no strings, I have learn to take to good with the bad.
After living my life I always thought that I must have done something very terrible, that my mom didn’t love me… so for years it feed into my own insecurities. Never feeling lovable, pretty, or yes even sexy. Now, well most of the time I keep a positive mental image of myself. It isn’t easy, doesn’t come naturally, I work hard at it to keep the old fears from creeping up on me and taking over.
I met her only recently, I call her mama.
In the past weeks we’ve spoken, often, and just as often I read her words on the page and try to remember when I wrote those words to her and if she sent it back to me as a joke to poke fun. Then I read it again, slowly, and I realize the words that are mine are also hers. This woman who is a stranger. This woman who is my mama.