An Anatomy of A Warrior Queen

I met an amazing person during my wedding week, in the form of my wedding photographer, Leslie LaRae. I mostly chose her because she was the girlfriend of my officiant, Ryan, who is also one of my best friends in the world. They had been together for a year, and I hadn't gotten to meet her yet. She also happens to be an amazing photographer, so we flew her up to Denver with Ryan, to take my photos. We had kind of known each other a little from the ex-ATI world, but not very well at all. I came to know more about her through Ryan's stories, etc, and knew I would love her, but didn't have any idea how much I would come to really admire her. I am incredibly lucky to know her. This post is about Leslie (posted with her permission, and all photos courtesy of her).

Many of us who have come out of ATI have different ways of looking at ourselves or referring to ourselves, in light of what we have endured. For me, as evidenced by this blog, it's Dauntless. For Leslie, it's Warrior Queen. I always just kinda got it, but after this week, I really, really get it. 

Like most who grew up in ATI, Leslie's childhood was filled with trauma, spiritual abuse, emotional abuse, and a complete inability to develop her own identity and personality. Unlike most who grew up in ATI, her childhood was also filled with sexual abuse from her father, and a mother who knew all about it, and refused to do anything to protect her daughters. 

She was 19 when she married a man of her parents' approval, who, thankfully, is actually a very decent kind of person, and fairly amazing in his own right. I haven't met him yet, but I'd like to someday. At the time, Leslie didn't really know what love was, thanks to ATI, and desperately wanted out of her parents' house. She soon had adorable twin boys, and entered the world of motherhood.

It wasn't until a few years into her twenties that she started talking to a therapist about the sexual abuse. The therapist called family services, and Leslie was thrust headfirst into a fight that would help make her the warrior queen she is today.

Here is an anatomy of a warrior queen, as embodied by Leslie LaRae:

1. A Warrior Queen Does Not Shy Away From A Just Battle
So many people would have refused to testify, tried to take back or soften their comments, or held back and let someone else fight for them. Leslie did not do this. She realized that not only was her fight for justice, but it was for her own healing. She had to fight for herself, if she was going to be able to move forward with her life. She didn't try to lessen what had happened to her. Instead, she took responsibility for her own fight, and faced her parents in court.

2. A Warrior Queen Fights For Others In Need
Leslie and her ex husband took in two of her siblings to raise for a few years, until the courts allowed her mother to take them back. She could have said she had her hands full with her own children, her own healing, and her own life. But she didn't. She realized her opportunity to help the two youngest, and she took it.

3. A Warrior Queen Is At Peace With Who She Is
Leslie and I both grew up in the same cult, where individuality was forbidden. We were to have a sense of family, not a sense of self. We were identified by our families. It was difficult to know who we were as individuals, once we got out. Leslie allowed her experiences to bring out her true self, not further bury it. Often times, it is safer to bury our true selves, rather than face and embrace it, especially when dealing with a traumatic past. Leslie has embraced her off-beat, warrior nature, and it is a sight to behold.

4. A Warrior Queen Does Not Try To Force A Situation That Is Not Working
As stated earlier, Leslie was 19 when she got married, was pushed towards the marriage by her parents, and wanted to get out. Again, her husband was and is a wonderful person, but that doesn't mean a marriage is going to work. Leslie wanted both her and her husband to be able to pursue a life that was good for them as individuals, and that set a good example for their boys. I won't go into it here, but the way their family works with them divorced is nothing short of a marvel to observe. If all kids of divorced families could experience this in their families, there would be a lot less hurt in the world.

5. A Warrior Queen Knows That Her Femininity Does Not Detract From Her Strength And Warrior Status
Leslie is as fierce as they come. She is not afraid to express herself, speak her mind, admit her faults, and show her strength- physically and emotionally. But she is also not afraid to show her femininity. She doesn't try to downplay her gender or gender identity. She has a shiny pink suitcase and neon pink hair. She doesn't shy away from a great dress and good makeup. And she still knows she is strong and fierce.

6. A Warrior Queen Is Not Afraid To Rejoice For Others
On my wedding day, Leslie was in the car with my mom and me for more than two hours as we drove up to Rocky Mountain National Park. Leslie and I talked about ATI, and I talked a lot about my experience then with my mom, verses my experience now with my mom. I told her the story about how my mom said she wouldn't have wanted to have herself as a mother either (story told here), and it made Leslie cry, as she saw the beauty in the healing. She talked to my mom through her tears, to speak mother-to-mother, about trying to break the cycle of abuse. My mom has done a lot to try to break her own cycle, which Leslie recognized, and rejoiced in.

7. A Warrior Queen Is Not Afraid To Admit When She Is Wrong
Leslie isn't perfect, and she knows it. She isn't afraid to acknowledge that in her life. More importantly, she isn't afraid to acknowledge that to her boys. She isn't afraid to apologize, or ask for their forgiveness. Being a warrior does not mean failing to admit when one is wrong, it means having the courage to admit it and make it right.

8. A Warrior Queen Is Not Afraid To Be Free
This is a late addition, and the only part Leslie hasn't seen. But it's fitting. A lot of people from our background are afraid to be truly free. They live their lives partly free, with one foot still weighted down. It takes a hell of a lot of courage to strip off those weights and truly be the person you were created to be, combined with the person you have become through all of life's ups and downs. Leslie has embraced her freedom, while still managing to be a responsible mother and human being. It's a glorious sight to behold. She is unapolagetically herself, in a way that few people ever manage to be. I think that is the true embodiment of a Warrior Queen.

I could go on and on, but these are the biggest things that struck me. I expected to meet and make a new friend, and get some amazing wedding pictures. I did not expect to meet someone I would connect with on such a deep level, and someone I would so greatly admire. I look forward to watching her grow and develop as the warrior queen she is over the years, and I feel privileged to call her my friend.

Of Jobs and Job Stress

I moved to Denver without a job. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I belonged here, and even if it meant sleeping in my car through a Colorado winter, I had to be here. It wasn't long before I got a job with a dry cleaning company, as their marketing intern. I wasn't told that I would be pretty much running one of the stores, and processing clothes, on top of marketing. Not only that, but I didn't know the owner would push  back against every single idea I had. Between constantly dealing with buttons and tagging, etc, my hands quickly gave out. I was there three months before I put in my notice, and then quit, without another job.

I spent the next six weeks searching for another job. I don't have the health to work multiple jobs, 60+ hours a week to make ends meet. I also don't have the mental agility to be able to do a  lot of things. Academia is perfect for me, and little else is good long term. I didn't even know what I could do.

Thank goodness for Jim. My friend, Jim Ciago, has worked at Level 3 Communications for years, and started working diligently to try and get me a job. It took interviews for four different positions to get a job there, but I finally got one, and started the day after Memorial Day, 2016. I was one of about 100 new Customer Care Managers hired all at once.

The job wasn't bad, until I got fully ramped up, and I made enough money to make ends meet, for the first time in my life. The company is a fantastic company to work for, but it is well known throughout the company that Customer Care Managers have THE hardest jobs in the entire organization. We're really the company's blood and oxygen. Take us out, and the ENTIRE company falls apart. We have to deal with angry customers, net builds (adding fiber to allow us to connect to the right spot. Sometimes a laughably simple fix, sometimes we have to actually get permission from the cities involved to tear up parts of major streets to lay the fiber under the street...netbuilds can take anywhere between a couple days, to over a year), things that go wrong beyond our control, human error, etc. We deal with every product the company sells, on three different ecosystems, with procedures and programs that change on a nearly weekly basis.

"Stressful," is an understatement.

Now, I can handle stress. I wrote a 90 page Master's thesis in 6 weeks, which I would never advise. BAD idea. People, just say no. I wound up on a liquid diet for the last two weeks, because I got ulcers from the stress. But I never had a panic attack, I never cried myself to sleep. It was incredibly stressful, but I handled it, and turned out a good product.

With my CCM job, I had multiple panic attacks some days, and often cried myself to sleep, thinking, "Please don't make me go back there!" What's the difference? I don't do a thousand different pieces at once. I do one. Maybe two. Sure, I can max those things out to the point that would have most people catatonic, but throw in a thousand moving parts and expect me to keep track of it all, and I just. can't. do it. I'm not wired that way.

So I quit my job.

It was exactly what I needed at the time, but not for me in the long run. Thank goodness for Andy's good job, Lyft, and my teaching. I can still contribute, without stressing myself more than is good. I can also have more time to focus on things I want to do, like developing this blog. It also gives me more time to focus on my health.

I don't think I will ever not work. It's not how I'm wired. I am always doing things to bring in money, whether it's working as a personal assistant for an elderly woman in Cape Girardeau, babysitting, selling Norwex, tutoring, selling clothes on Poshmark, driving for Lyft, teaching classes, working full time, or any of a dozen other possibilities, I will always be doing something, even if we suddenly come into money. Which, let's face it, ain't gonna happen. But this is part of who I am. It's nice having the medium sized paycheck every couple weeks, but being able to do other things, while still bringing in money is far better. I can't wait to see what comes next.

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week: Part 8

Final part! We're home now, and the kitties couldn't be more thrilled. They're chasing each other, but staying very nearby. They weren't happy to be left alone for 24 hours between the time that Leslie and Ryan left, and the time Andy and I got home! They were also unhappy that I didn't have any wet food for them until Andy got home from his trip to the gym and grocery store. I was pretty sure they were about to attack and eat *me* even though they had dry food upstairs.

Our plan was to leave the hotel this morning by 10, but we got out almost an hour earlier than that. Aside from a few traffic backups, that I mostly slept through, our trip home was uneventful, and we pulled in a little after 1pm.

We came in to happy kitties, lots of packages- some we ordered, some wedding presents- and more leftover P.F. Chang's and wedding cake than I think we could ever possibly eat. Trying to consolidate all of that food into a more organized chaos in the refrigerator took almost an hour. Not even kidding. All that time, the kitties were circling me and yowling for wet food.

I got things unpacked, washed some dishes, wrote some thank you notes, and got some things organized in the master bathroom.

No, we didn't have a big honeymoon right now, we're planning that for later, and mostly because of money. But I'm actually glad about that. The wedding has me exhausted, and I'm ready to be home, settle into post-wedding life, and rest. Had we gone on a big honeymoon now, I'd have been exhausted and wouldn't have enjoyed it at all. As it was, I didn't have a lot of energy to do a whole lot. But now we can plan for a trip, when things are much calmer, and I don't have a thousand other things to take care of.

Yes, it's a short post, and not very exciting, but it's me returning to real life. I have several other posts coming up this week, so watch for them. My hope is to get into a daily cadence for posts. I have been wanting to put a lot more into this blog since quitting my job, but the wedding took up too much mental energy.

I can't wait to see how life unfolds, now that we're back home, and settling into married life. 

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week: Part 7

Sunday morning, we actually had to get up and leave, because we had reservations to go white water rafting.  Andy and I had gone before, when we were here over Memorial Day Weekend in 2016, which I wrote about here.  That trip was way more intense than this one. Right now, the Colorado River is at low water, for our last trip, it was as high as it could be and have them not close the river! So today was more relaxing, whereas last trip was exhausting, thrilling, and we wound up looking like we had been mugged the day after, with all the bruises.

Our guide was Finn, a 19 year old engineering student from Aberdeen, Scotland, who was here working for the summer. He was hilarious, and awesome. The rapids we hit were fun, though I didn't feel quite as Dauntless as the last time- there was no fear of drowning in the boat, nor was I holding on for dear life to avoid being thrown from the boat. But hey, I won't feel like I was hit by a truck for a week! I couldn't go swimming this time, because, new tattoos, but Andy did. They had him stand up on the front of the raft, and hold onto the rope, and they would try to spin the raft in circles to make him fall off. We didn't even get to the part where we were moving, he just fell right off the raft and into the river, with a giant splash. I may have mocked him.

We got back from the trip, and walked across the street to an ice cream shop, where we loaded up on candy, and also got ice cream. We sat on the porch and ate it, while petting a couple dogs, then went to get nachos to go from the Glenwood Canyon BrewPub, because...seriously...delicious.

After that, I crashed, HARD. I must have slept for over two hours. It was awesome. I really wanted a low key last night before heading home, so we just went to the restaurant in the hotel, to eat dinner. It wasn't the best meal we have had on this trip, but it wasn't bad.

We went back to the ice cream shop so Andy could get a pound of Jelly Bellys for the trip, and we both got more ice cream. I may or may not have gotten bubblegum ice cream. Yes, I am 34. A Dauntless doesn't care what people think about their ice cream choices.

Saving Private Ryan was on tv when we got back to the hotel room, so we watched that as we packed up to be ready to leave in the morning. This trip was good, but it will also be good to be home and settle into married life. 

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week: Part 6

Saturday, I woke up earlier than expected, not because I was awake- I was not- but because I was ravenous. We headed to Our Daily Bread for breakfast, and since we walk everywhere in this town, I kept whining at Andy to slow down because I wasn't awake enough, and therefore coordinated enough, to walk that fast.

Breakfast was delicious, and they even had gluten free bread for toast or eggs benedict, or french toast. I had an egg white omlette with toast and fruit, and I really wanted to buy this really awesome painting of a snake, but Andy wouldn't let me. Dumb.

Believe it or not, after breakfast, all I wanted to do was go back to sleep, and that's what I did. Pretty much all morning. Both of us were really tired, so Andy just kinda hung out next to me on his phone for a few hours. Seriously, guys. I can't say it enough. Weddings are exhausting. 

Early in the afternoon, we wound up just wandering around town, in and out of shops. The biggest part of the afternoon happened at Hole in the Wall Tattoos. Really cool place, my artist was Kat. Not only did I get my first tattoo, I got my first TWO tattoos!

The first one was done behind my ear. OMG, it hurt. She started out with me in the chair, but decided the angle was too cumbersome, and had me switch to the table.

Can you tell what it is? I had been wanting to get the Dauntless symbol behind my ear for a while, and I finally got it!

I'm kinda in love with it. And yes, it's red and angry. It still hurts quite a bit. And it was about an 8/10 pain, so yeah, it hurt. But I'm no stranger to pain, so to have pain for something I chose for once, not so bad. 

The next one was on my wrist, and that was an actual 10/10 pain. Good thing I can control myself through excruciating pain. It felt like I was getting cut with no anesthetic, which I have experienced before. But thankfully, it took maybe 10 minutes to do. I almost cried like a baby when I thought she was done, and then she changed her mind and decided she needed to go over a letter again, but I dealt. 

In the end, I got a phrase I have been wanting to get on my wrist since a few days after my breakup 2 years ago, and it looks awesome!

"i can handle this" Which was very apt given how painful it was. 

After the tattoos, we went to dinner at the Riviera, which was delicious! I had zucchini and carrot noodles with a pesto butter sauce and grilled chicken, with a hard lavender lemonade. It was amazing. 

We had about 45 minutes after dinner before our escape room appointment with the Glenwood Adventure Company. As we wandered, we stumbled across this little boutique, Bellini's Fashion. We talked with the owner, who was super awesome, and gave us a 10% discount when she found out we were on our honeymoon. You guys should check out her website! She has an online business as well, and ships for free. I love supporting small businesses! We got a picture frame that says, "I Love Us," which we'll put a wedding picture in, and I got this pretty awesome bag: 

It was only $63 to begin with, and the straps are real leather. You can smell it immediately. Most bags like this are at least $100, if not more. When I saw how inexpensive it was, I had to have it. The thing is huge, and I can really pack it when I travel. 

It's made from recycled canvas, and put together really well. I'm sure it will hold up to some solid beatings as I travel. 

The brand is Mona B, and the motto is "fearlessly authentic." Talk about perfect for me! The tag isn't very legible, but it say,
"Fashion that's earth friendly. Waste not, is the concept behind Mona B. Why make new materials when there are interesting and perfectly usable fabrics that can be re-cycled or up-cycled. We go by the mantra that one person's trash is another person's treasure.

"Each bag tells a story about the individual journey the material has made traveling from place to place. They are mostly made of recycled tarps or tents that have been previously used and would otherwise be thrown away. They have been washed to bring new life which may result in slight color discrepancies. The texture and material variations that are distinctive in recycled and hand crafted products make each bag unique. The story of these materials continues on and the next chapter is now for you to decide."

Not only do I love how eco friendly that is, but it seems rather Dauntless to me, too. A lot of these materials come from old army gear. Many have already stood up to a lot of use and abuse. Now they get to live on to see new places, serve new purposes. This bag will likely travel the world with me, and that's pretty awesome. 

Finally, we went to the escape room, where we tried our hand at their Egypt Tomb Escape. It was just Andy and me, and if we had about 5 more minutes, we would have totally gotten it. We really impressed the staff, who said that two people very rarely get that far, and never actually escape, so we're pretty happy. We had to solve puzzles and unlock about a thousand locks to get out. What disturbed me the most was how many Egyptian cities along the Nile I could identify without labels. Thanks, history degrees? 

We went back to the hotel and got to bed, since we were starting the next day with quite the adventure! Details to follow. 😉

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week: Part 5

Friday morning, we woke up and smiled at each other, because we were finally married! Corny, but true. Andy was ready to go long before I was- I think I will need a month to recover from this wedding stuff. Lemme tell  you, small wedding does NOT equal low stress. Holy wow. There's still the venue and the people coming in, and the officiant, and the cake, and the flowers, and the license, and the rings, and the honeymoon, and the meals, and the photographer, and the clothes, and other things I am sure I'm missing.

I slept a few more hours, while Andy worked out, went and got breakfast, and then got a chair massage at our hotel. I was going to, but decided sleep was way better.

We walked around Estes Park for a bit and had lunch at Mama Rosa's before heading out. We stopped in at the bookstore, where I got a book about the hauntings of the Stanley, and a book on the history of Wonder Woman. I have no idea when I'm going to read them- this Dauntless has serious Erudite tendencies, and I'm pretty sure I have about 50 unread books at home, not to mention all the ones on my Kindle- but I am excited to read them when I can. We also stopped in a sock shop, where I found some pretty awesome socks I couldn't help but buy for the boys I used to babysit before moving out here.

Andy decided to drive through Rocky Mountain National Park on our way to Glenwood Springs. The day before, the mountains were barely visible in the park. But this time? Bright, clear, brilliant mountains. Of course. A combination of exhaustion and bitterness caused me to sleep most of the way through the park.

Our drive to Glenwood Springs was mostly uneventful, minus the gravel roads we were on for the better part of an hour. I fought the lack of internet signal to try and do some blog writing, and I eventually won, though it took far longer than usual.

We checked into The Hotel Colorado (and I canNOT get "Hotel California" out of my head), which is a historic hotel, opened in 1893. It does not have air conditioning. But it's cool and historic, and Teddy Roosevelt used to call it his "second White House," so there's that. The back lawn area is quite pretty, though.

Dinner was nothing but nachos with chicken at the Glenwood Canyon Brew Pub (delicious, by the way- definitely worth having!), followed by an hour in the Iron Mountain Hot Springs. We love that place, because it has different pools at different temperatures, and they're all set up like large hot tubs. If you're lucky, you can get one to yourself. We weren't so lucky. It was pretty busy while we were there.

After that, we went back to the hotel and slept very soundly. First full day of marriage= success!

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week: Part 4

Wedding day! We woke up earlyish, and Andy and Ryan left to meet Andy's brothers and families at Snooze for breakfast, while I hurried and tried to both nail my eye makeup and get it on as fast as humanly possible. Leslie and I jumped in the car, and I finished my makeup as she drove to meet everyone at Snooze. Seriously, Denver people, if you haven't been to Snooze yet, what are you doing with your lives?!

We sat at the table wth all the girls- Susan, Lily, and Mari Ann, while all the boys, Andy, Ryan, Matt, John Scott, and KJ were at the other table. I hadn't been there since they had released their "summerish" menu, and found a blackberry key lime pie pancake, which I couldn't help but order, gluten free, of course. You guys. It was a religious experience. Not even kidding.

Leslie and I hurried out of breakfast, and headed to my regular salon, Matthew Morris, to meet my mom and get my hair done. My stylist, Annaliese is amazing. I have been with her since I moved to Denver, and she has kept my Dauntless hair in perfect color and form ever since. She managed to make curls look completely and utterly Dauntless. I loved it. I changed into my dress at the salon, and left for the mountains.

The day was a bit overcast, but we were hopeful things would clear up, and there would be sun and clear skies once we got to the mountains. We hoped wrong.

It was 55 degrees and extremely overcast when we got there. We kept hoping it would clear up yet. After all, the whole point of getting married in the mountains was...well...the mountains.

People began arriving, and about 1:58, the drizzle stopped, clouds started to clear, and the sun made an appearance, making it notably warmer. There was only one problem: Neither Andy nor Ryan had yet arrived. And I got a text message right about then saying that they were still in Estes Park!

Andy and Ryan didn't get there until 2:40. Yes. My husband was late to our wedding. Starting off on a GREAT foot there, Babe. His family was threatening to replace him with a cardboard cutout by that point, and also offering to beat him up for me. Of course, I greeted him with my hands on my hips, and he tried to play it cool, but there was no winning for him.

By the time he got there, it was again cold, raining, and not only was it overcast, it was downright foggy. So much so, that when we got to the little dock on the lake we were getting married on, all we could see was the lake immediately surrounding the dock, for about two feet in all directions. The lake is NOT that big, and we couldn't even see the other side, which was less than a quarter mile from where we were. Yep. The fog was THAT dense. Of course, as I'm writing this the next day, it's sunny and pretty clear. Slight haze, but seriously. At least you can see mountains...

Ryan officiated, and did a great job. I can't imagine anyone else doing it. He opened with I Corinthians 13, and Andy and I started laughing. "Love is patient..." Yeah, no kidding. Also, "love is never rude..." That got Andy a  pointed look too. Cause, you know. Keeping a bunch of people waiting in the rain and cold for 40 minutes isn't exactly polite... In any case, we got it done, and finally...we're married!

We severely abbreviated the family photos so as to allow the poor people to get out of the rain and cold, and Andy, Ryan, Leslie, and I hung around for more pictures. Some involve me in the lake! Can't wait for those! We were going to go up into the mountains through the park more for some super Dauntless photos, including ones with me climbing up some rock formations and sitting off the edge of a mountain in my wedding dress. But unfortunately, between Andy's tardiness and the extreme fog (which did lift a little), there was neither much time, nor incentive for us to do it. We got a few pictures in shops in Estes park instead.

We met everyone for dinner at 6:00 at the Cascades Restaurant in the famous Stanley Hotel. Yes, that Stanley. The one that inspired The Shining. Andy wanted to stay there on our wedding night, and I told him he could stay there on our wedding night, but I didn't want any twins showing up in the room in the middle of the night. If you don't get the reference, read the book or watch the movie...

The Stanley is gorgeous, and it is visible immediately upon entering Estes Park. I wish we'd had time for more pictures there, but alas, we didn't. The staff was incredibly helpful. Andy's sister, Marnie, and her wife, Taylor, had gone all the way up to Fort Collins to get the cake- a glorious strawberry gluten free cake done by Grace at Delectable Desserts- and dropped it off at The Stanley before the wedding. The staff asked when we wanted it brought out, and even brought out a vase with water for my bouquet.

Dinner was delicious, and Andy and I both had steak with green beans, mashed potatoes, and peppercorn sauce. Oh. My. Word. That stuff was amazing. There are no words. Normally, I would eat maybe a quarter of all that was on my plate, but apparently, I was hungry, because I ate almost all of it, and wasn't even terribly full. Andy gave a lovely toast to everyone, and talked a little about how we met, then they brought out the cake.

We ended by taking a few pictures before leaving, then went back to our hotel room at the Estes Park Resort, where they had left rose petals and champagne and chocolate covered strawberries for us.

Yeah, I was really unhappy about the weather, but at the end of the day, we wound up married, and that's what matters. Let the adventures commence. 

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week: Part 3

Wednesday, the day before the wedding...WHAT. I can't even wrap my head around it. We're getting married tomorrow. 

Andy had to work today, so Leslie, Ryan, and I went and had dinner, then went to an awesome macaron place in Highlands Ranch, Honey B's. We each picked out the macarons we wanted, and then went to scout picture locations for our engagement photos, which we took today. Cause, I mean, everyone does their engagement photos the day before the wedding, right? We were going to try and do them in Parker, but there really weren't any places to do it, so that was a bust.

We went grocery shopping for a few things we needed for tonight, and then we went home for a nap. Andy got home for work, and we left right away for our pictures downtown, since Parker didn't work. In an hour, we managed to do Union Station, Starbucks, and the Blake Street Vault, where we met. Leslie took some awesome photos, and I can't wait to share them.

About 7:45, we arrived home, and I opened the door from the garage into the house, and immediately shut it again. The house was full of people, mostly Andy's family. And I suddenly realized how terrified I was. Not terrified to marry Andy. I'm thrilled by that, and I can't wait. It doesn't scare me at all. But joining this whole other family scares me to death. I'm the first person to join the family in over a decade. It's well established.

Then there's me, coming in to join. I don't really know them that well. Andy is the youngest, and he's middle aged. It's scary, coming into a new family. Talk about having to be Dauntless. I love and trust Andy enough not to freak out too much about it. But maybe coming from such a broken family, into one that is intact- flawed, yes, but still intact- is what is so scary. Maybe I don't know how to "do" intact family. What does that entail? Family no longer means to me what it used to, and it doesn't mean to me what it means to most others. Just because someone is family, doesn't mean you never let them go. Sometimes, you have to. Sometimes, that's the only way to be whole. So maybe coming into an intact family is frightening because I don't know what that entails. I don't even really know what it means.

I'm willing to learn, and with Andy by my side, I guess I'll be okay. 

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week: Part 2

Day two of wedding week has ended, and I have two sleepy kitties purring next to me as I write this. It's been a long day, to say the least. I had to head up to Fort Collins for our marriage license (long story), which was three hours in the car, total. Not my idea of a fun time. I'm still not sure if I'm mad or happy that it took me fewer than 10 minutes to park, get into the building, get the license, and back in the car.

I picked my parents up on the way home, and they spent a few hours helping me clean, and I helped my dad figure out his smartphone (!!!!!!) and download the Lyft app and create an account for him.

After they left, I went to the airport to pick up one of my best friends, Ryan, and his girlfriend, Leslie. Ryan is officiating, and Leslie is the photographer. You may remember Ryan from the blog posts on our two near-death experiences together- the incident of the flying Uhaul, and the time we narrowly escaped severe frostbite in the mountains earlier this year.

We all went to bed shortly after getting back from the airport, and I have settled in to write a post that needs to be written, but I'm not sure I'm going to like. My therapist strongly suggested I do this before the wedding, though, so here goes.

This is a letter from me, to my big brother, Matt.

Dear Matt,
I'm getting married this week, can you believe it?! And I just turned 34 too! You used to think people in their 30s were so old. You'd be 43 now, if you were still alive. But you'll never experience aging, you'll be 19 forever.  That seemed so grown up to me when you went, but it seems so young now. You were just a kid.

I'd give my right arm to have you here with me this week. You're supposed to be here. You're not supposed to be dead and buried over a thousand miles away. You should be here tomorrow, when everyone comes to our house for dinner. You with your big smile, and your blue eyes. You should be making things confusing, by being the third Matt out of fewer than 20 people. You should be here.

But you won't be. 

You would love Andy. I can just picture you guys laughing and joking, and ganging up on me. You would approve of him. He has a good job, and has his life together. It took him a little while, but he did a good job, in the end. He's only a couple years younger than you would be. I would give anything for you to be here with us.

But you won't be. 

I grew up with two siblings, Andy grew up with three. All three of his siblings are coming. None of mine are. Neither of you are going to be here. I didn't grow up an only child. I have lost both of you. You to death, and Anna to other things. You should both be here.

But you won't be. 

You would be so proud of me. Shortly before you died, you looked me in the eyes and made me promise you I wouldn't grow up to be a loser like you- your words. You weren't a loser. You were hurting, and doing your best to keep things together. You ultimately failed, but you weren't a loser. You were my big brother. You would be so proud of my Master's degree. You'd be so proud of how I'm training in the gym and dealing with my illnesses. You'd be so proud of my choice of a life partner. You would be proud of how I haven't let things hold me back. You should be here, beaming with pride.

But you won't be. 

I'll be thinking of you, Big Brother, when we are all gathered at dinner tomorrow, and when we are gathered at Sprague Lake saying our vows on Thursday. I'll be thinking about how much I love you and how lucky I was to have you, for nearly ten years of my life. You should be there, in my heart and in my head, with me in my soul, and in this person you helped me become.

And you will be. 

A Dauntless in Denver Wedding Week, Part 1

Wedding week has arrived! I thought it would never come, but here it is. Things are crazy busy, and they are just going to keep getting crazy busier. Holy crap. [Insert freak out here].

Wedding Week was supposed to kick off on Sunday, with my parents flying in from Cincinnati. Monday was my birthday, so they came to spend it with me. Their flight was supposed to come in at 8:30 Sunday evening. Plenty of time to pick them up, take them to their hotel, and let them settle and sleep before the next day. However (there's always a "however," isn't there...), due to severe storms in Palm Springs, where their plane was coming from, the flight got delayed. By nearly six hours.

Thrilling. Because an all-nighter is just what two solid septuagenarians need. Especially one with a bad back and recently broken hip. And staying up nearly all night for me is just what I needed to kick off my week. I am hoping to high heaven that this is the only big hiccup of the week.

I got home from dropping of my parents at their hotel, and managed to get to bed about 4am. That big, leisurely birthday I had planned? Yeah, that didn't happen.

I finally dragged myself out of bed about 11, and took my car to Jiffy Lube for an emergency oil change (thank you, Lyft!), and then came home to take a nap because...I was still half dead.

My parents came over via Lyft about 3, and after the grand house tour, we went to Runner's Roost in Lone Tree for my birthday present, new running shoes. This place is awesome, and I would recommend it to anyone in the Denver area. They put you on a treadmill to evaluate your gait with an iPad, then match you to the correct shoe. Not too long later, I was out the door with new shoes, and tape for my shin splints.

After that, we went to Park Meadows Mall, to get Mom clothes for the wedding, a tie for Andy, and makeup for me. We started at Sephora, where I got an entire list of items- you know, actual quality makeup that won't wear off my face in 2 hours- and underestimated the total by a couple hundred dollars. Still suffering from sticker shock there. Thank you, Mom and Dad for counting it as a wedding cost! It'll be way cheaper to replace item by item than buy it all at once. Yeesh. Pretty excited though. Now I have the tools I need to create more of the Dauntless makeup look I have been wanting for a while!

After that, we got Mom some clothes and Andy a tie at JC Penney, then went to meet Andy downstairs at The Cheesecake Factory for my birthday dinner. While waiting, I had a totally chance encounter with one of my soul sisters, Star, who just happened to be there too. It's been way too long since I've seen her, and the last two times we had scheduled for her to come over, she got sick!

I had a dinner of guacamole, amazing gluten free pasta, and gluten free cheesecake, and then went home  to bed. It wasn't hard to get to sleep.

Despite a rough start, it was a good 34th birthday. I kept musing, as I saw many birthday wishes come in, and people talking about my birthday and wedding in the same week, how infinitely better this birthday was over my birthday just two years ago. That one, I was in hell. I spent the day in the car with my parents, driving back from my Autism eval in North Carolina, and wanting to die from the pain of losing the person I had thought I was going to spend my life with. I had so many friends that day say, "I feel like 'happy birthday' is inappropriate, but I wanted to at least acknowledge that it is your birthday."

It's amazing the difference two short years can make. I can't wait to see what this year holds. 

Past vs. Present Truth

I know, I know, a bunch of you are already thinking, "There is no 'past truth' or 'present truth,' there is only TRUTH." No worries, I have not become a relativist, I fully agree. But hear me out. Sometimes past truth and present truth are actually two different things. I came to this realization this March, when I was visiting my mom in the hospital for a few days, in Cincinnati.

Mom was in a lot of distress, as she had broken her hip, and then gotten pneumonia while in the hospital. I came out to visit, and lend a hand. I wanted to make sure my 76 year old father was not staying at the hospital every night, and that he was getting some rest. I also wanted to know what was going on, and make sure my parents knew what was going on. Because I have dealt with significant chronic illness my entire life, I understand the human body and illness better than both parents combined. Plus, I'm effectively the only child, so I just needed to be there.

Over the last few years, things have gotten much better with my parents, to the point that there isn't much I don't tell them anymore. They have come SO far, and have gained my trust in a way they hadn't even gad it before ATI. Most visits go down without incident anymore. But we're still human, we still have issues, and I still have PTSD.

One night, Mom was getting really anxious about not being able to eat. She had developed Thrush, and nothing she ate tasted good. This one night, she was really working herself up, and I suggested she take an anxiety pill, because her worrying about not eating was going to do her more harm than actually not eating. Mom was really wound up and unhappy (with very good reason), and she snapped, "Kathleen, I need you to not suggest I take an anxiety pill right now, because that just makes me more anxious."

I acknowledge, given the situation, there was absolutely nothing unreasonable about Mom's reaction. She had every right to be wound up and upset and snap, if she damn well chose. But I also have PTSD. And I got massively triggered. But I had come to help, and I tried to ignore the flashbacks and brewing panic attack, because that wasn't helpful. And it was my night to stay with Mom. I told them I was going to run out and get dinner, and then Dad could leave. As I was walking out, Mom noticed I wasn't okay, and asked what was wrong. At which point, I could no longer hold it in. The last thing I wanted was to make this a THING. But there was no way to avoid it anymore.

I started crying, and Mom asked what was wrong. So I told her that my PTSD got triggered, and that I used to try and suggest solutions to issues, and I would get  accused of being arrogant and contentious, and sent to my room to beg God to change my hard, rebellious heart. She used to snap at me much as she did this time. And as I was explaining, I said, "I feel really bad because I came here and it's not your fault- well it is your fault because you gave me PTSD, but it's not your fault now because you're not like that anymore." For one thing, it was amazing that I was even able to realize that it both was and was not her fault, at the same time. Past truth, she gave me PTSD. Present truth, she isn't like that, and she wasn't being unreasonable in the moment. It wasn't her fault, in the present. It was an unfortunate result of her past actions.

But what happened next was even more profound- and healing- than me realizing that what is "past true" is not necessarily "present true." My mom began to comfort me and say it was completely okay and understandable, and that I had been a huge help, and didn't need to be upset. Then she said, "Honey, it's okay. I wouldn't have wanted to have me for a mom, either. I was a terrible mother back then."

That was the first time since ATI that I heard my mother openly and clearly admit that she was horrible to me, and was not a good mom. She always said before that she meant well, that she was sorry, but she was doing her best. All true. But to have her just straight up say, with no qualifiers, that she was not a good mom, was healing in a way I couldn't even fathom. She herself was also acknowledging that yes, it was her fault then. She knew it wasn't her fault in the moment, but acknowledged it was, from the past.

Being able to separate past from present truth has been unbelievably helpful in the last few months. Sometimes, people do change. And what is true from the past, isn't necessarily true in the present. It has consequences in the present, sure. But my mom, my past mom, gave me PTSD. That isn't my present mom's fault. Talk about gaining more compassion and grace for someone.

Hopefully, as I move forward in life with PTSD from multiple causes, this can help me. And maybe, it can help someone else too. 

Saying "Yes"

As most of you, if you're reading this, will already know by now, Andy and I got engaged this past Monday, on July 3rd. It wasn't exactly a surprise, but he did manage to surprise me with his exact method of delivery, and his chosen time. But before I go into that, let me back up a bit.

Andy and I met and started dating on February 18th, 2016. Before we had been together a year, we both knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we were getting married. We had started talking about buying a house, and a vague timeline. We started looking, and bought the house we are now in, in March. It was a new build, so we didn't get to move in until June 1st. I had been planning on a big wedding, but by April, I had already met my max stress capacity for the year, and, well, it was only April. But between Violet's health going up and down (another blog post on that, eventually) and finally losing her on April 5th, my 72 year old mother in Cincinnati breaking her hip and then getting pneumonia, my job steadily increasing in stress, my carpal tunnel surgery...I really just wanted to be settled and done. Do a reception after the fact, with less stress. So we decided to get married in August, in the mountains, in a small, immediate family only ceremony. By June, we had decided on the date- August 3rd.

But one small detail, Andy still hadn't asked. Now, I knew he would ask on July 3rd. To make a long story short, I have a history of spoiling his plans to surprise me. We were talking one day, and I said I thought I knew when he was going to ask. We'd been planning on going to see the Reds play the Rockies on the 3rd since the schedule first came out, so I figured it would be then, and he confirmed. I just didn't know when that day he would ask, but it was going to be hard to surprise me, since I was expecting it at any time that day. He still managed to surprise me.

July 2nd, I went out driving for Lyft, and was out late, but told him I would probably come home about midnight. He said he'd wait up, which he does sometimes, so I didn't think anything of it. So around midnight, when I got another ride request, I texted him I was taking it. And the same for the next two.

I finally walked in around 1:30 in the morning, and called out to him that I was home. The first thing I noticed was the candles, and I thought that was a little odd, and then I saw the roses.

And I suddenly realized...this was it. He came down the steps, and I saw him in a tie, while I was a mess in my workout clothes. I said, "Wow, really?" And he came over and gave me a long hug.

He said a few things, about how much he loved me, and what a great time we've had together, and all our plans.

And then he got down on one knee, and asked me to marry him. Of course, I said yes.

I didn't think he would manage to surprise me, but he did just that. What also took me by surprise was the depth of emotion I felt when I realized it was finally happening. I actually started to tear up, just a little.

All I could think was..."This is actually happening. He is actually asking me to marry him." I knew it was coming, but of course, it's totally different when it actually happens. 

I remember thinking it was never going to happen. That no one would ever ask me to marry them. And then my heart got broken, and I thought, I would never put myself in that situation again. But then I did. And I'm so glad I did, because I got Andy. I met someone who was taken with me from the start, and who wasn't scared by the fact that I was still putting myself back together. A couple times, he even held me while I cried about my heartbreak. He listened to me talk about my childhood, my traumas, my health issues, my Autism, and nothing scared him away. 

We have our issues, but we talk about them. I don't question his commitment to me. I can't believe I get to spend the rest of my life with him. But still, it's scary. It's scary not knowing what will happen. It's scary knowing everything that could happen. But I'm not going to let the fear of what might happen keep me from living my life. I did that for so many years. That's the whole point of a cult- to keep people terrified of what might happen if they leave the bubble. If they dare to live their own lives. It's all about being safe. But life isn't safe. Nothing is safe. We can try and insulate ourselves as much as possible, but at some point, something is going to happen. So do we try and minimize the potential, or live? I've chosen to live. And I'm so glad. 

I can't wait to marry him. 

Balancing the Past and Present

Life is a funny thing. It throws us curveballs we could never see coming, and it pushes us as hard as it can sometimes, to see how much we can take. And sometimes, it also drops really great things in our laps unexpectedly. Sometimes, they're just that- really good things- and other times, they're basically the best thing ever at first, but there's a timer ticking away, somewhere deep inside and indetectable, that is going to blow up in spectacular fashion when we least expect it. Then there are the times we have to just go find what we want, and make it happen. Yes, these thoughts are a little jumbled, but hear me out.

I remember July 1, 2015 with stark clarity. The Josh Duggar scandal had broken a few weeks before, and the constant chatter about ATI in everything surrounding me, had severely triggered my PTSD, launching me into a deep depression. The previous weekend had been rough, but I had just gotten a puppy, and by the time I woke up the morning of the 1st, I realized I hadn't felt depressed since I had gotten her. Waking up is rough for me- I tend to be in fairly severe pain, and moving makes it worse for the first couple hours, so I can probably count the number of times in the last 20+ years I have awakened feeling optimistic and like things were going to go really well. This was one of those mornings.

What I didn't know was that there was a bomb ticking away in the amazing relationship I was in, and it was mere hours from exploding all over me. When he came to my house and broke up with me over his lunch break, I went from feeling like I could take on the entire world, to feeling like the entire world had suddenly collapsed on top of me. I will never forget that feeling. I could go on about everything that followed- I have already talked about some of it here- but I'm not going to.

It's funny how healing and processing work. As much as we would like everything to just heal and tie up in a nice, neat, package, that we can then put aside, and move on, the deepest wounds rarely heal that way. I woke up this morning, feeling an incredible emotional weight and pain. And it was really difficult, knowing I'm in an amazing relationship with the man I'm going to marry, and am very happy in it, feeling like that.

But life isn't about a perfectly linear, neat progression. It isn't about tying up all loose ends, and depositing them behind us, never to bother us again. If that were the case, we wouldn't grow as people. Both the good and the bad would have little impact on us as we lived our lives. One of the biggest keys to living a functional and healthy life, is being able to move forward, and find and create stability and happiness, despite the things that we haven't been able to fully work through.

Since that day two years ago, I have built a whole new life for myself. I made a lot happen, rather than waiting for things to get better. I moved to Denver, without a job. I found one, and it turned out to be very different than what I had been promised, so I quit. With the help of a friend, I found another job, where I stayed for just over a year. I also finally put myself into the dating pool, intentionally. I had never done that before. I went out and met people, and went on a few dates, and through that, I met Andy. Things progressed, and we made plans for the future and bought a house, and I quit my full time job, to be able to do a few things part time, in order to be able to better take care of myself and pursue other interests, such as this blog.

Our life is amazing, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wish I could just brush off everything else. But that's not how the human mind works. I think the key is figuring out how to acknowledge and work through the pain of the past, without allowing it to harm the present and future. It's a difficult balance to find, but the important thing is continuously working on finding it, despite the inevitable wobbles.

Part of living a Dauntless life is being brave enough to continue to find joy and build the life we want, and being brave enough to confront the past as needed, too. That's what I strive to do, and as long as I do that, I think I'll be just fine. 

Women's March on Washington, Part 4

Well, the March is over. I meant to write another post or two the night of, and in the van on the way home, but to say I was too exhausted would be an understatement. And the pain. Oh, the pain! I actually took Tuesday, the day after I got home, off work, just to sleep and recover.

We had been expecting to march along a specific path, towards the White House, but there were so many people, the entire parade route was actually filled with people. Meaning, no one could move! So, we took an alternate route, instead, turning and walking down the cross streets, and then down towards the White House. As we walked, the streets were packed with people for blocks, both to our right and to our left. I had never seen so many people in my life.

As we walked, we chanted, call and response style: "Tell me what a feminist looks like!" "This is what a feminist looks like!" I loved watching the men, Dan included, yelling along with everyone. There were many, many more chants. Some had to do with the planet, some with religious freedom, some with abortion, many, many issues. It wasn't just about plain equality.

This little girl sat and held that sign up for a really long time, while playing on a tablet with her other hand. It was quite impressive.

This made my historian heart happy- the Declaration of Sentiments from the 1848 Seneca Falls convention on women's rights. We have come far, but not far enough.

You can't see it in any of these photos, but while we were standing in front of the White House, a bunch of National Parks Service people started walking across the White House lawn, and waved at us and gave us the thumbs up. It was awesome!

Now let me say something about this picture, because I have been heavily criticized for posting this on Facebook. I actually didn't intend to get the finger in this picture. I had already framed and started to click, and the finger went up. It really wasn't an issue for me, even though it doesn't directly reflect my own views. I do believe in being respectful in my dissent, at least, as much as possible. I don't believe flipping the bird is necessary. However, I am a historian, and this is something that happened. Yes, part of my reason for being there was to participate in the protest. But also, to be a part of unfolding history, and to document the experience. This was part of the experience, so I didn't see a reason not to include it. Approve or disapprove, that's my opinion, and I stand by it.

By this time, we had been on our feet for hours, and were in varying amounts of pain, and we were HUNGRY, so we decided to try and make our way back to the metro. Along the way, there was a fence where people were leaving their signs, and we left ours there.

On our way back, we had to pass by the White House guard gate, and we got stopped by the Secret Service. We weren't sure why, until the Presidential motorcade came out, driving Trump to the Pentagon where he made his infamous speech that wound up being dubbed by KellyAnne Conway as "alternative facts." Yeah, we saw part of that speech at dinner. Someone asked me how I felt, knowing the President was in one of those cars, passing through. I was in easy view of the windows. I said that I felt justified in coming to Washington. If he looked up, he would have seen me. Me. I wasn't way back in the throng of thousands. I was right there. If the President saw me, at least he knew why I was there. And knowing that maybe the President saw my face, and knew I did not approve. And that's way more than I ever hoped for. In a way, I took my protest directly to the President, and that is pretty amazing.

We also passed a LOT of DC police who were totally chanting with us, cheering us on, shaking hands, and asking people to try on their pink pussy hats and take pictures with the officers' phones. It was pretty great. We never saw anything or heard anything threatening or wildly inappropriate from the protesters. The police even commented on how unbelievably polite and well behaved this giant throng of people was.

The subway was still super crowded on the way back. Well, the station was. We stood for close to another hour before being allowed to go to our platform. The trains themselves weren't as bad, as people went to multiple different ones to go to their different destinations. Again, they pushed us through without paying. I sat on the filthy platform floor for a while until the right train came along.

We got off, and went to get pizza for dinner. It was great to just unwind, have some amazing food, and talk about our day. We went to bed pretty much as soon as we got back to where we were staying.

The next day, we headed back to Indianapolis, and we didn't get back until late. Monday morning, Christi took me and dropped me off outside my aunt Terri's office downtown. Aunt Terri is the youngest of my dad's 13 siblings, and she went to the march in Indianapolis. We went to lunch at a little Greek place, and my cousin Eric joined us. We talked about the march, about the issues, about their perspectives. Eric left, and Aunt Terri took me to the airport, and had a bit of a heart-to-heart on the way. It was really nice. I didn't meet her until I was almost 10, because her husband was in the military, and they were living literally anywhere BUT Cincinnati most of my childhood. When my brother died, she was living in Oklahoma, and they came out for the funeral. That's when I met her. And because I'm one of dozens of nieces and nephews, I only got alone time with maybe two or three of my dad's sisters when I was a kid. Aunt Terri and I hadn't ever had time for just us to talk, and it was awesome.

I got home late that night, and pretty much went straight to bed. Yes, I was in a lot of pain, and I had very much stressed my body. This isn't something that would be advised for the Autistic and chronically ill. I went, because I had to do something. I wasn't going to stay silent. It took a lot out of me, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. I went. I marched. And, in a very real way, I conquered.

Women's March on Washington, Part 3

Washington, D.C.

We're finally here. We're literally in the middle of the street, in a major intersection, near the main stage. All we can see is people. People and people and people. I'm on my phone, so I'm only going to get through a few sentences, but I'll finish the rest later. 

When we got to the train station, it was packed with people. Way more than we could count. We got our metro cards, and then got in line to go up the escalator. But they were only letting so many people up at a time, so as to not overload the train platform. They only let people up every 10-15 minutes or so, and every time a group went up, everyone loudly cheered.


 
Left was us standing in line for the metro passes, Right was Christi and me finally on the escalator!

By the time we got to the escalator, we had been waiting for over an hour, and I think all four of us were more excited about getting on the escalator than we ever had been in our lives. The platform was PACKED. Even with transport people limiting our numbers up there, it was a little disconcerting.

While we waited, we checked out the signs, and I took pictures of some of my favorites:

The train was so packed as to be incredibly uncomfortable, and even physically painful, as it became fuller and fuller, and literally impossible to control our own positioning. But the energy was filled with excitement. There were a lot of laughs on the train, and we watched the people on the platforms at each stop, as we got closer and closer to our stop, look at us with wide eyes and shaking heads as they realized they were NOT getting on our train! 

We saw an advertisement for the Amazon Prime show, "The Man in the High Castle" (if you haven't seen it, DO), that was absolutely perfect for the day of the march. We tried to get a selfie with it, but couldn't fit everything in it, so a fellow passenger offered to help.

When we got off the train, that station was jam packed too, and it took us about 20 minutes to get out! The escalator was turned off though, and it was a steep climb of something like 100 steps...and I hadn't worn my knee braces. So Mandy wound up going up one step ahead of me, and pulled as much of my body weight up as she could, so I didn't have to put the stress on my knees. She'd do that a few times before the day was over. Bless her. The end station was so full, the transport people told us not to swipe our cards, just to keep the crowd moving through. This happened multiple times as well. 

We got outside and started our mass trek towards the march. Where we were standing, we could see a little of the Washington Monument, though it was extremely foggy that day. There were So. Many. People. 

We heard Michael Moore, a Congresswoman from California, the female mayor of D.C., and a few others, before we headed to find a bathroom. It took us over an hour to go down one block, and get in to the long row of port-a-potties. Now we're standing closer to the main stage, listening to Scarlet Johansson. The atmosphere is amazing, and I can't believe I'm here. There are people as far as the eye can see in every direction. Women of all ages- some clearly in their eighties, in wheelchairs, a surprising number of men- approximately 25% of our crowd? And entire young families with their children. People of all nationalities and ethnicities...I love this.