It’s my birthday and I’m writing a blog.


Some might wonder why in the world I’d choose to do this on my birthday, considering I have my own business and I can make my own hours and schedule.


But to me, this is not work. I LOVE to write, but not only do I love to write, I enjoy sharing my thoughts and feelings with the world.


And I don’t like to share what I call “fluff” either. By fluff I mean talk of the weather, or how much I like your outfit.


I like talking about the REAL stuff, the stuff no one likes to talk about because it’s just too hard to face, or because it’s silly, or because “that’s not real life.” (And, by the way, what defines “real life” anyway? Isn’t it just what you are personally experiencing or feeling?)


I’m the one who shakes it up at Thanksgiving dinner. You want to talk about the mashed potatoes, and I want to talk about how you’re feeling after your recent diagnosis of depression. If you want a real conversation, come and find me…don’t worry, we will get down and dirty REALLY quickly (in conversation that is).


So, for my birthday I wanted to talk about some real stuff. None of this fluffy BS we use to avoid our real feelings, painting a picture of rainbows and unicorns.


Three years ago today (to the DAY) I was celebrating with all my friends and family at a local bar. It was a celebration and “farewell to Detroit” party. This was the last time we would see our loved ones before moving to Seattle. Three years ago today.


I didn’t know what I was going to do when I got to my new home. All I knew was, it was the right decision. It was just what I had to do in my life. (And now, three years later, I know the reason why.)


I was unsure about everything. Was it going to work out? Would I have any friends? Would I make any money? Would I even like it there? What was my apartment going to look like? What is this Mill Creek place anyway? Would everyone in Detroit forget me? When would I come back to visit, and how would it feel once I did? What. Am. I. Getting. Myself. Into.?


So many unanswered questions, and yet I followed my heart with faith being the only thing to hold onto.


My past two birthdays were a tad rough. They brought up old sweet memories, and made me think about going back “home” to the Motor City.


This time of year has been nostalgic for me at the very least. For the past two birthdays old emotions have resurfaced and forced me to take a deeper look at what I have needed to release. For so long I was so attached to my home, that feeling of comfort and security that can only be felt through memories of childhood experiences.


There has been a lot of shedding of old patterns and emotions that were no longer serving my highest good. And that may sound glamorous and cliché, but I assure you this has not been glamorous or cliché at all.


I have spent full days weeping, wondering what I did to myself. I have spent weeks and even months in a state of depression and/or high anxiety, wondering when I’d ever feel better.


I felt so out of control of my own life, some days it was even scary.


I lost a lot of weight from the stress (not purposeful, and certainly not in a healthy way), and still trying to get back to balance.


I felt lost and lonely, and wondered why I felt like I was going crazy when there was so much around me to be thankful for.


And I often wondered how I could be working so hard at personal development and eating so well, yet still feel like such crap all the time. I was angry, frustrated, sad, lonely, and grieving.


But the truth is, the exact reason I felt like such crap was because I was taking such great care of myself.


I was gaining self-awareness, and because of this I could feel my emotions much more deeply than ever before. And in this way I could release them.


Although the process felt dreadful most times, I realize now looking back that those most difficult moments were me releasing energy, letting go of all the old junk I was holding onto for so long.


When I lived in my hometown I spent most of my life people pleasing. If there was a family gathering, I was there, and I brought the mashed potatoes (you know, the ones I said I don’t like to talk about at Thanksgiving).


When Mom or Dad needed me, I was there. When a friend needed me, I was there.


It didn’t matter if I hadn’t bathed myself that day or eaten more than a morsel, or if I was sick or feeling tired, if I had something else on my agenda, or even if I had homework or a project. I was there.


I sacrificed so much of myself for others, and although this sounds like a noble quality in a person, I never gave myself the attention I deserved and my mind, body and soul were starting to weaken.


So it’s no wonder that once I finally arrived to my destination in Mill Creek, WA I felt more and more depleted by the day.


I was so tired from giving, giving, giving, that my body finally collapsed cold and hard, and the sweet mountains and Evergreens of the Pacific Northwest were right there to catch me.


Spirit is so powerfully communicative out here. I mean, I was told EXACTLY where to go, at the exact moment I needed it (and thankfully, I was listening).


I needed to let go of my old attachments and ideas in order to move forward and become who I was truly meant to be.


Letting go of those attachments has been nothing short of excruciatingly painful, and yet a miracle all at the same time.


And although I love my home in the “mitten” and everyone in it in the very same way, I was able to release the unhealthy patterns of people pleasing and give myself some much needed attention. In fact, I’m not sure I would have been able to do that had I stayed put.


BIRTH-day. A day of birth, of new life.


On this birthday, which also marks my THIRD year in Seattle, I am able to FULLY celebrate me.


I am clear headed, grounded, joyful, and grateful.


I went to my yoga class this morning, and felt playful and free. I am writing this blog, and happily doing so.  I am next going to the book store, just to spend some time browsing books, and maybe even doing some more writing (I am writing a book, you know!).


It was meant to be that we relocated during the week of my birthday, because now this day has a whole new meaning to me.


Not only is it the day I was physically born onto this earth, but it is the day I was born once again. This is the day of my new life, the new me, the ME I was born to be.



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