Trying Again

I think after a full year I’m ready to try writing again, even in a casual way.

2020 was rough in a thousand tiny little ways and a couple of really huge ways. We went home and stayed home and are still home. Everything changed. My mom died. It still hurts. People tell you how much losing your mom changes your life, but you don’t know until you know. I know now. I should probably unpack that even more, but I’m not ready to.

2021 slid in quietly and then managed to shell out a significant amount of stress. I managed to hurt my back the first week. My oldest had a car accident the second week. She had to have some surgery and I had to have some surgery and more than anything I’ve learned:

  1. I’m not in control
  2. Surgery is always serious, no matter how “minor” they tell you it is.
  3. Maternal feelings do not fade, even when they are grown, with big girl jobs and living on their own.
  4. There are few things more terrifying than a call alerting you to the fact that your child has been in an accident.

So, six weeks into the New Year and I’m starting to really think about what’s on my list this year and goals for the future. This is messy, but aren’t we all…

  • I want to explore my next educational challenge/goal. I’m not quite sure what that is right now. I have some ideas, but I’m not ready to put them out in the universe yet.
  • An opportunity to travel abroad has presented itself later this year, if the Rona doesn’t get in the way. I want to make the most of that and take advantage of it if I possible can.
  • I’m going to set a reading goal of one book a month. In years past, I would have laughed at such a tiny goal, but I read way too many text books and theory books and got incredibly burned out and, well, I’m working on it.
  • The writing thing. You’ll see.
  • Apologize less.
  • Do things I love more.

I Am

I want to learn to love writing again. Again. I once loved putting words on paper or on the screen. I once expressed so much of myself in this medium. I loved words so much that I convinced myself I was good and worthy through them.

And then I didn’t.

I lost my way. I lost my confidence. I lost my voice.

And so I’m starting where I am.

I am…
human and flawed
fearfully and wonderfully made

I am…
a child of God
a mother
a wife
a partner
a teammate
a daughter
a sister
a citizen
a friend (although not a very good one)
a teacher
a speaker
a presenter
a questioner
a challenger
a motivator
a lover
a mediator
a worker

I am…
often conflicted
fiercely unafraid and scared to death
hot and cold
strong and weak
closed and open
dark and light
reason and chaos
fire and water
influenced and not swayed
loving and unlovable
a mystery and an open book
myself and someone else

I want to be…
me
better.


Who is the sassy southern feminist?

Hey y’all! I’m a 40ish married lady from the deep south. I have a real job, grown kids still on the payroll and the cutest old lady puppy ever. I try to be funny. Sometimes it works. I have a lot of opinions about a lot of things but also believe you have a right to your own opinions – unless those opinions are sexist, racist, hate filled,etc and then I’ll shut you down. You be you. I’ll be me. Let’s talk.