I’m a Ghost of You, You’re a Ghost of Me

I’m a Ghost of You, You’re a Ghost of Me

by lindsannette ♥ 4 Comments

This move was important for me in a million different ways. Almost all of those include some sort of self-bonding, learning to trust myself, becoming more grounded in my body, in who I am and how I relate to the world and those around me. For the most part, minus the inevitable life that shows up, I have really hunkered down and made this a priority. Paramount has been my most recent excursion. Colorado is filled with people that seem connected with themselves and the outdoors, and it has been a noticeable effort to let that encourage rather than discourage, to use those around me as support, to steer clear of defeat. I often find myself in discussion with myself looking for reminders that this journey is highly personal and judging myself based on the experience of others will significantly hinder any progress.

A little background- I left home initially when I was 17. From then until 25 I lived with boyfriends, their families, in my car, on couches, and every now and then I could hold a job long enough to have my own apartment… for a few months at a time. When I turned 25, I met my now ex-husband, who I quickly moved in with and had the first real sense of stability that I could remember. While that relationship was a disaster and ended in turmoil for both of us, I am grateful for the friendship that came out of it and for the lessons I learned on how to live in a way that afforded me a roof over my head, food in my belly, and liquor off my breath.

I am not hard on myself for this and understand that in some ways I am a victim of circumstance, that I didn’t know how to show up for life, that role models were sparce, dependency was a bad word and repeated traumas held me captive in more ways than I can ever explain. I think my saving grace lies in understanding that I am a person among people. I have had it worse than some and better than others, I can give my experiences the attention they need and move forward as I see fit.

Fast forward- here I am living my life, standing up for myself, sitting on mounds of confidence after years of internal work and I decided that I wanted to go camp by myself, in my car, with minimal equipment and in an unfamiliar area. Something has been keeping me from feeling free. I thought for a while it was relationships with men, so I avoided those. Then, when approached with one, I still didn’t show up as myself even after years of intense work. There is and has always been something in me that Just. Does. Not. Let. Go. I began craving SO BADLY the feeling of just being, loving myself without distraction, letting go, saying yes, showing up, feeling deeply and without hesitation, breaking down walls. Getting outside has always been an avenue of freedom for me and I wanted to experience it on another level. I wanted to camp in my car in 20 degrees, to hike alone in the middle of nowhere, to bathe naked with a view of the endless wilderness. So, I did. I had conversations with myself, no one around to listen, I laughed and ran and smiled. I breathed hard and kept going when I needed to and rested when I needed that.

It has been some time since then, and I believe this was an absolute turning point, an awakening of self that will allow me to show up as me- because if I don’t, I know I’ll miss her too much to keep going.

Today I climbed a mountain. It was hard, I was tired. It was beautiful and I was astounded. My favorite therapy takeaway is along those lines, coexistence. It can be difficult AND wonderful. I can be scared AND happy. I can grieve my past AND be excited for my future.

As I sit in my car writing this, watching a stunning sunset, taking breaks between words to take it in- I know what is next. I feel connected to the universe, to my spirit, and to the ghosts of my past. They all give me the strength for this next chapter and it is going to be GOOD.

Breakfast of Champions

Breakfast of Champions

by lindsannette ♥ 2 Comments

I haven’t written in a while because I get into these weird spaces where I am writing for other people, where I write according to how it will be received rather than from an authentic place. I feel clear today and have given myself the space to share that. The journey I’ve been on in life the last couple of years has found me in that position often- not with writing, but in conversations. Navigating what to share, who to share it with, how it may be perceived, how/whether I’ll be judged. Frankly, it has gotten exhausting. I don’t fault others for this, I just don’t think we live in a society that truly celebrates individuality and I am regularly encouraged by others I see fighting against that grain. I am here to do the same.

We all grow up under different sets of circumstances. I won’t spend time dissecting the struggles and successes that partake in defining us- but I think, or at least hope, we all have a time in our lives where we try to break free from and/or question the societal pressures and norms put upon us. Early in life I found myself running in circles trying to find myself without the right tools. I used alcohol, sex, food, god, fitness, etc to try to feel whole. All were used unhealthily and ultimately led to some kind of detriment. I was back and forth between couch surfing, jobs, cheating, drinking wine out of to-go cups (or just liquor straight from the bottle with no *apparent* shame); and managing just enough of a life to keep people off my back. Then I found the solution, the mixture of a proper 25 year old: a monogamous relationship that would result in marriage, religion, blonde hair, the perfect amount of make up, and conservative appearance. I even started getting my tattoos removed. If these things work for you, great, I love seeing you do you. However, SO much of it was incredibly far from who I was and am. I didn’t know that yet- and it didn’t matter. I needed to fit in to what society deems normal in order to save my life.

And honestly, it did. I am grateful to be in a place where I can look back and see that. However, what I don’t love is the world that shies so strongly away from who I wanted to be, of the girl that wanted to live a little outside of the lines. How do you succeed when you don’t fit the mold?

Don’t get me wrong- I don’t condone cheating, and alcoholism is a whole other story. I also used sex in very unhealthy ways to cope with trauma. I do think, though, that if the world were a little kinder it would have been different. Did shame around promiscuity make me have less and safer sex? Certainly not, it just made me feel worse about it. How about shame around alcohol consumption? I have a feeling that thinking poorly of myself for not being able to control drinking probably encouraged me to drink more. Do tattoos make me unemployable, give me too much of an edge? My current employment status would argue that.

Anyway- something had to give and apparently that was everything that made me who I was (I am being a little dramatic. I love my ex-husband to death and learned so many valuable lessons in that season of my life- but that’s not the point here). I feel like I woke up one day and I was basically a Christian housewife that had sex twice a year and had to put make-up on before leaving the house. I was always put together. Again, please don’t yell at me. If that’s who you are FUCKIN’ ROCK IT (as long as you’re not coming after my uterus, sexuality, and all the human rights of everyone else- k thanks). The sad thing about this is MY LIFE WORKED SO WELL. If you don’t count my clinical depression and anxiety, panic attacks, severe insomnia and weight fluctuation. I got hired all sorts of great places. I nannied (people let me watch their kids! JK I am great with kids). I got hired for a job I was barely qualified for (that I still have- am definitely qualified for, and absolutely LOVE). I looked the part and I played it well. What a way to live.

FAST FORWARD TO NOW. Wow. WHAT A YEAR. Here’s what I can say about how I got here- I played the part (I literally didn’t know that’s what I was doing, it was all subconscious and created by the world around me), and then I started therapy. Then I left my husband. Then I started to have sex again (a lot of it), but like- the way I wanted to, not the way I did in my late teens and early 20’s. I made decisions about it that I wanted to make. I faltered sometimes, learned from it, and got back on track. And WOW is it fun! Then I worked through the sex trauma from my past with my therapist that came up because I was having sex again. I got promoted at work, twice. I continued therapy. I worked on childhood trauma, on my issues around abandonment and neglect. I hugged my child self. I continued to kick ass at my job and my friendships and being a dog mom. I found out I also like sleeping with women, so I explored that. I deepened friendships, and made new ones. I started to fall in love with myself. I found out about different kinds of relationships, lifestyles, and started living outside of the norm. Challenging what we are taught to believe feeds my soul. I check in with myself. I am learning to trust myself. My continue to grow in my relationships with my family because I can show up differently- confident, self-assured, loving and understanding. Of course I have faults and fall backs- I hope that’s just a given when talking about these things.

Then I was assaulted in a coffee shop parking lot in the middle of the day, and I faltered. At least I thought I did. Those close to me saw differently, and they let me know. I felt what happened, and I felt it hard. I talked about it, I did work around it. It is an addition to my experience but also showed me how much my relationship with myself has grown. I didn’t own it, I experienced it. When I was ready, I got back up and continued to experience the rest of my life.
Disclaimer: there is no right way to walk through this, and I feel fortunate to have had the tools I did this time. Whatever your journey is, is valid.

Right now? Right now I am sitting in my apartment with my dog- having chosen to spend most of the day with myself, something I haven’t always enjoyed and that I now treasure. I have reconnected with my body in ways I didn’t know I’d be able to again (I attribute a lot of this to the patience I begrudgingly learned to have while my body wouldn’t do what I wanted it to). I am enjoying movement and nourishment, pleasure from myself and others (yum), and recognizing my ability to show up as a kick ass employee, friend, sister, daughter and self. I am not a gratitude junkie, but I do find it sometimes. When I am struggling, I lean away from it and I think that is healthy for me- accepting where I am at even if it is dark and I hate every body and every thing. When I am doing well, I can find it in those who have harmed me, loved me, supported me, and who have only passed by. I think right now, though, I find a lot of it in myself, for myself. I wish the same upon you.

Love y’all.

What is Surviving?

What is Surviving?

by lindsannette ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Today in Texas it is Sexual Assault Survivors Day. I have been both aching to write this post, and putting it off because HOW do you put an experience like this into words. This is your trigger warning: this is a post about sexual assault and rape. This is MY experience. I am not a therapist, and I do not know the answers for surviving. If you are struggling with your own story, I am here for you and can suggest things that I have done, or share my experience but that is all I am qualified to do. I just know that I deal with the repercussions of my experience every day and that is has been made more manageable by a few different things over the years: drugs and alcohol, sex, dissociating, and more recently- therapy, God, meditation, other peoples stories, and books that have opened my mind and my heart to the powers of healing. I love to live my life out loud, but this trauma created a kind of sickness and shame that felt I needed to keep to myself for a long time. Some of the repercussions will last forever and have become a part of my existence. Shame will not be one of them.

AGAIN! THIS IS A TRIGGER WARNING.

THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS DETAILS OF RAPE/SEXUAL ASSAULT.

When I was 17 years old I went to a high school party. I drank A LOT, and found myself inebriated pretty quickly. It was always a little hard to put the pieces of the night together. I blamed myself for a long time for the happenings of that night because I was so drunk. I had consensual sex once that night, in the beginning. He was one of the most attractive guys at school, and older than me so I was feeling pretty accomplished. The rest of the night is mostly flashbacks:

In the backyard trying to get some space and sober up: pinned against the sidewall by someone I knew who quickly put his fingers inside of me while I was trying to get away.

I was followed into a bathroom, where the same guy pushed me down and put his penis in my mouth. I remember struggling to get away, opening the door and stumbling out.

I ran outside. Again, to try and pull myself together and hopefully sober up- which wasn’t going to happen at this point. I was followed by a different boy, one I had kissed at school once or twice. He caught up to me down the block and around the corner, where I collapsed from drunkenness and where he proceeded to have sex with my motionless body. What I remember most about this is how desperately I wanted to speak, yell, move, run. Instead I froze.

When it was over and I could move again, I walked back toward the house. I didn’t want to go inside, so I laid down on the sidewalk and passed out, when I came to, two of my class had their hands down my pants. I scrambled and ran inside, looking for a place to sleep.

A few hours later it was morning, I woke up in between two boys. One put his hand down my pants and I was FINALLY sober enough to get up and get the FUCK out of there. I waiting in the living room for my ride. On the way home, I told him I thought I might have been raped and instead of believing me, he said “I’ll check in with the boys and see what happened”.

Well, as you can imagine, it was denied. He told me he believed them and we never spoke again. I don’t recall what I did afterwards, if I told any girlfriends or if I kept it to myself. What I do know is that I quickly began to cope. First, with alcohol which turned into years of severe alcoholism, then I went on a rampage of creating new sexual experiences as to gain “control” of my sexuality (as you can imagine, that wasn’t the case, as I had done no healing and often found myself with sick men because, well, I was sick). Both of these continued into my mid twenties. I am grateful for my solutions to my trauma. I am SO GRATEFUL that they were there to get me to the healthier solutions I have today.

It took from 17 to 31 to really look at this and how it has impacted my life, my decisions, my relationships with others and WOW, my relationship with myself and my body. I feel fortunate to have affordable mental healthcare through my employer, giving me the opportunity to dive deep with someone that I can talk to every week if needed. I recognize that this isn’t available to everyone and that it is a PRIVILEGE. I also recognize that this kind of work is HARD. It is EXHAUSTING. I don’t know how I got to a place where I could even fathom taking this road, and it almost broke me. Maybe it did, I don’t know because I was already broken, but it definitely changed me.

I’m not all better or anything. I still make questionable decisions around men and I still do things to dissociate, but I have a different kind of awareness. When I do these things I have a new kind of understanding. I know I am surviving, I am coping with things that humans aren’t supposed to experience. I More importantly, I am kinder to myself. For SO LONG I thought it was my fault for being so drunk. I thought that rape was only rape if you fought back or if you had scrapes and bruises to show for it. Thanks to the stories of others and the newer media that has begun to share other types of stories, and thanks to those on social media sharing their own, I know different now (Shout out: Promising Young Woman, The Body Keeps the Score).

This is a part of who I am. I have to tell men I date not to touch me or kiss me when they walk me to my door. Every little thing is on my terms. I have to make a big “dramatic” decision to do anything physical. However each time I do those things, regardless of their reactions, I HEAL A LITTLE MORE AND I LOVE MYSELF A LITTLE MORE. This. Is. About. Me. I am a survivor, and this is what that looks like. I AM A SURVIVOR and this is my journey.

Love y’all.

2020… and counting

2020… and counting

by lindsannette ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Reality: I went into 2020 mid-divorce, excited and ready for my new and improved life in California and ended it alone in my Dallas apartment, battling COVID-19 and crying over some guy that had moved on after I dumped him (how DARE he).

I’ve been trying to write this for days. Some days it was my fever that kept me from being able to look at a screen, but mostly it’s been a lot of HOW am I going to fit the load of shit that was this last year into a post and not sound like a depressed lump. It would be disingenuous to turn this into a gratitude post, because while there were wonderful friendships made and built upon, lessons learned, I got to keep my job amidst a pandemic, etc- that has not been the vibe of the year for me.

I got divorced. I left a severely unhealthy relationship that was slowly killing both of us, and we are both better for it. That’s the gratitude version. My reality is that I have a serious pattern to break if I am ever to have a successful relationship, and the depth I must go to break that pattern has proven to be deep, ugly, and almost unbearable. Around the same time I decided that was a road that needed to be taken, my health took a turn. I was diagnosed with a transformed migraine- which means the migraine troubles I have struggled with for years had slowly formed into one continuous migraine with brief intervals of relief.

Around the same time, my therapist and I were unwrapping my experience with rape and sexual assault, the effect it has had on my intimate affairs and relationship with myself, and began the deeply personal journey of acceptance and healing. The combination of these things, the pandemic, and new responsibilities at work sent me for a tailspin and I decided to take a week off of work to decompress and rest. Instead, I fell into one of the deepest depressions I have ever experienced.

I truly feel as though I clawed my way out. I am unsure when or how, as even the memory of the combination of physical and emotional pain is overwhelming. I got back to dating, a welcomed distraction until I fell hard and subsequently… ran away screaming.

(Side note, I also got strep throat for the first time in my life, and had an allergic reaction to amoxicillin- very 2020).

This all leads me to December of 2020. Where it is all supposed to turn into a big ball of gratitude. There are some good things. I have started a new regimen for my migraines, one that I’ll have to continue forever but that has no side effects and significantly reduced migraines (this is a huge win!). I hope that with this comes better work productivity and less depressive episodes. I have taken the biggest leap of my life in making the decision to jump head first into the many traumas of my life. I am not yet grateful for this. It has led me to the darkest places I have ever been, emotional black holes that feel impossible to climb out of. Sometimes I feel so broken that I wonder if I’ll ever be whole enough to truly share my life and myself with anyone else. Yet- this is STILL a win. I have the wherewithal to do the work, the knowledge that a new life is on the other side, and the guts to do it. I don’t ever want to paint a pretty picture around trauma work, the exhaustion that ensues. I have spent the last year wondering if I would lose my job, my friends, my lust for life, my spark, my joy. What I know is that I can’t stay in the middle of it. It’s one thing to live as I have before this year- either blissfully unaware or willing to keep up with distractions, but it would be another to continue, knowing. As I approached 2021 with a fever, staring at the same walls I have been for the past 9 months, I was reminded I am walking into this new year with the same baggage I started it with, but a new understanding of what needs to be done and that I can’t stop here. What I hope in my heart is that I am closer to my awakening than I realize, and that I can come back to you with the Lindsay that is in here somewhere trying to get out. I pray for mercy as I continue this journey. Love y’all.

Standing in My Story

Standing in My Story

by lindsannette ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

In therapy today, we talked about how I often find myself struggling to be the combination of “who I was” and “who I am”. This has been brought to light more while entering the dating world post-divorce, as well as in my professional life. I have handled this a couple different ways, both of which we decided could use some work:

  • Hide my past completely and pretend to be a lesser version of myself, or
  • Overshare and test the willingness of those around me to accept all of me or be gone

I struggle with the combination of being a: working professional, sober alcoholic, free spirit, story teller, sexual trauma survivor, healthy sex-life advocate. I am in a season of learning how to allow all of these things to co-exist, and how I can show up in the world standing strong in my story.

This journey began with understanding that my unhealthy behaviors around alcohol and sex stemmed from brokenness. These were my self-harm and self-preservation techniques in the confusing world I was living in- the tools I used to dull the pain of unmanaged abandonment and trauma. They are not who I am, but instead experiences I had that have allowed me to reach kinds of emotional and physical bottoms that have bred an understanding of pain on a unique level. The journey continued when I began to understand that these behaviors hindered who I was. With them removed, I am able to lean into the spirit beneath. Therapy and trauma work has been PARAMOUNT in this and, for me, has been the only way I have been able to keep my eyes and heart open to behavior patterns and opportunities for change and growth.

What’s happening in this process is this: I am learning to trust myself. In that, room has been made to be myself. I learn more and more about what that looks like everyday. What I do know is that it isn’t putting on a professional face, but rather recognizing that as a part of who I have become. It isn’t identifying as an alcoholic, but rather as a woman living in and exuding recovery. Not a divorcee, but someone who stood up for myself and left a marriage that was harming both parties. And lastly, not just a sexual assault and rape survivor, but a woman who understands the importance of boundaries while still allowing myself to be a sexual being.

No longer do I need to stand in shame. Today I will stand proudly in who I am and what got me here. Love y’all!

Opinions and Sex

Opinions and Sex

by lindsannette ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

As I navigate my 30’s outside of a committed relationship, I have taken some time to reflect on my sexual history and ideals. As someone who finds myself gathering the opinions of others before sitting with myself and reflecting on my own, this has been an interesting one to navigate.

I have what I like to call a “colorful” sexual history. If we are being honest, we all know that this is intensely different for women than it is for men. People talk about women giving it up too soon, it’s as if there isn’t a man involved giving it up right along side her. I do believe sex is a special thing, and I haven’t always. There are times I wish I hadn’t done it, times I wish I’d waited, things I wish hadn’t happened. There are also the many times that it contributed to the soulful, passionate and open minded person I believe I can be. The good and bad experiences have brought me to where I am today, just like anything else in life.

I am an open book. I love to talk about my experiences, my ideas, ask questions. Sex is one of my favorite topics- mostly because everyone is so unique in that area and I am truly intrigued but also because sometimes I just enjoy making people squirm as a well-poised woman tells intimate details of sexual encounters.

A male acquaintance recently overheard a conversation I was having with a girlfriend about whether I wanted to sleep with someone (I will not give out any information about my status with this person because IT DOESN’T MATTER), and he said “WHOA, Lindsay. Calm down.” This was followed by statements like “YOU calm down”, “She’s a grown-ass woman” and other statements backing up MY decision as my own. Can we take a breath to realize how ridiculous that is?

Another statement that comes to mind was from a well-meaning and very treasured friend of mine. He said something along the lines of “if it means something to you, you’ll wait.” Now, I understand this and I think that for some people it is true. I completely respect that path. What I don’t love about this statement is that it implies that if I don’t wait, the relationship becomes less meaningful. Is this something we also say to men? I can’t decide if that is a rhetorical question or not.

What about the women I talked to? These are some of the things they said: Pay attention to your gut; Do what feels right; If you choose to move in that direction, be safe; DO YOU. Now, I understand I have the best girlfriends in the world that are all aware of my sticky past surrounding sex- also, this is probably the only advice I ever respond positively to. Regardless, THIS is what moves me toward personal empowerment. THIS is what reminds me that the answers are within me. THIS is what reminds me that I can trust myself to make my own decisions.

I love men and I have had some profound experiences with some that seem to truly understand the struggle of sexual women, or that lack most judgement around the subject. What if it weren’t profound to have those experiences? I would love to hear any of your experiences. Love y’all!

Doing Dallas Alone

Doing Dallas Alone

by lindsannette ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I moved to Dallas, Texas in the middle of summer 2018. I was newly married and ready to live out the rest of my well-planned life. My engagement checked all my boxes- I was 28, which meant I could be married before I turned 30. That’s it, that was my only box. It was a great day filled with fishing, lots of coffee, a California sunset, crashing waves, and a man that had absolutely changed my life. Before I met him I had been struggling to stop drinking, was technically unemployed, and had recently moved back to my parents house. While I did the footwork, he absolutely paved the path. I had been flailing for years and having an example of stability and discipline was live-saving.

By the time we got engaged, married and moved to Dallas, our connection had all but disintegrated. That’s a story for another day, but the relationship had proven a large distraction from the impending internal overhaul I needed. We were living separately by June of 2019, and the divorce was finalized in February 2020. I will likely mention divorce often throughout this blog. It is not a dirty word, and in my case, wasn’t a dirty experience. I’ll address this another day.

Once he moved back to California and after a whirlwind of a couple years, I found myself in the middle of 2020 (yikes), 1,689 miles from home and divorced. My life plans had seemingly blown up right in front of me. My dog, Boomer, and I set out on a self-discovery journey.

This looked like foster dogs, long walks, long talks, reconnecting to my sex life, therapy, journaling, self-help books, Netflix binging, sitting in feelings, avoiding feelings, online dating, swearing off dating forever, dating again, more therapy… and A LOT of alone time with my feelings *gasp*.

I feel privileged to have the kind of health insurance that allows for such regular therapy visits. Without her guidance I have no doubt I would be deep in my favorite unhealthy coping mechanisms. I truly believe they served me until I could get here, but their time is up. For me, to face the emotions of my life is no small task. This is the biggest, most intentional transformation I have ever willingly walked into and I think it’s important recognize that while I have always managed the best I knew how, and that I now know better.

Ugh. THIS. IS. HARD. There is a global pandemic, I have a full time job, a social life to keep up with, a dog to take care of, I suffer from chronic migraines and all of this brain work is IMMENSELY EXHAUSTING. It is a complete overhaul of my brain, rewiring my decision making, making sense of my childhood and the effects it has on my adulthood, my feelings, the connections between trauma and behavior, of emotional abandonment. I am learning how to connect with and respect my body, the significance of boundaries. I am connecting the stories of my life to the feelings attached to them and I am TIRED. I am depressed most of the time, I don’t enjoy the simple things I normally find so much joy in. Every day is long, and every task takes effort. There is this underlying feeling, though, that something has shifted. When I look at the last few months I see COURAGE, STRENGTH, RESILIENCE. I see a woman treating herself with RESPECT, with PATIENCE, with ENCOURAGEMENT.

THAT is why I am doing this. THAT is who I am and who I am becoming every time I make a decision to do the hard thing, to look a little deeper, to be a little more honest, more willing. Every now and then the sun peeks out of the clouds and I feel it in my soul. I am trudging but there is forever hope, and I know my light cannot be put out.

I am doing this. I have a wonderful support group, a phenomenal therapist, a loving God, a perfect puppy… But I am doing this, feeling the feelings, showing up, opening up, digging deeper. Dallas, Texas has given me the space and the resources that I needed to go this alone and I can’t wait to see where I go. I’m doing Dallas alone and I am KILLING it when it isn’t killing me.

Love y’all.

Meet Lindsay

Meet Lindsay

by lindsannette ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Hey Y’all!

Here are some things about me: I love spirituality, I haven’t always, and I think it is a deeply personal journey. I do not subscribe to religion as I find it limiting. I believe in the validation of everyone’s separate belief system (within reason). I am a lover of animals, specifically dogs and horses, but more specifically my dog (just being honest). I am a sober alcoholic (as of 2014! My journey began in 2010. You’ll learn plenty). I live for coffee and it lives for me. I have experienced rape and sexual assault, followed by a laundry list of *interesting* survival skills. I believe strongly in therapy and other forms of trauma work, especially reconnecting with my body. I am happy to share my experience of healing, but understand that everyone heals differently and on their own time, if at all. People fascinate me and I enjoy making new friendships, just as I enjoy nurturing old ones. I am no professional interior designer, but if I could be without going to school, your girl would be SET. As of now, I just spend too much money redecorating my apartment. I like to shop- love to spend money, it may or may not get me in trouble sometimes. Okay, it may. I am divorced, which got me a puppy-daddy. Through that process I learned that kindness holds immeasurable value. I’m a sucker for ice cream, burgers, pizza, sushi, cupcakes, seafood, steak… okay, so food. I like food.

I’m here to chat a little about life and my experience with it. The only way my experiences are unique, is that they belong to me and no one else can own them. They are not unique in the sense that on one level or another, someone can relate. Whether it’s joy or sorrow, someone has been there. I love life, and I have also experienced immeasurable pain. Those two things can co-exist, and for me, it is sharing that helps that be true. I hope to build a community of people learning to do the same- that’s all I’m doing!


My name is Lindsay, born and raised in the Bay Area, California, currently living in Dallas, Texas with my baby boy, Boomer. He’s an English Cocker Spaniel and is the light of my life. I grew up writing mostly for therapeutic reasons, which still applies, but it has evolved into an act of empowerment. I have always wanted to share my voice with the world once I found it, but found myself asking questions like:
“Why would people want to hear from me?”
“What do I have to offer that someone else doesn’t?”
“Will my friends and family judge me?”
“What if I’m not good enough?”

I believe those fears are part of what kept me from finding my voice. I believe this is what that looks like for me. I believe that if the things keeping me from taking action have to do with others and not myself, that is something to pay attention to.


I love you all and look forward to our journey together.