02/ 12/ 2017
Each year I blog about Valentine’s Day. It’s been my favorite holiday since I was in elementary school. I loved getting candy and valentine’s at school. I loved the color scheme—reds, pinks and creams. And I loved the idea of love being all around me. It’s a day where we honor and appreciate those we love (and that is something we should be doing regularly). But when we all remember this together on the same day it’s powerful.
As I get older, I turned 31 last summer, Valentine’s Day is starting to feel harder. Being single on Valentine’s Day hadn’t bothered me much until turning 30. Maybe it’s because I remember being young and looking forward to spending the day with the family I would have one day. Or, more likely, it’s probably because I can count the number of single friends I have left on one hand—and that includes myself.
02/ 06/ 2017
When I was in Florida for the holidays, my mom was unloading the dishwasher (truthfully, I was being unhelpful and sitting on the couch). She was shuffling around the kitchen, opening drawers and shutting them. I wasn’t paying much attention until she started talking about her love for a new mug she’d bought recently. My mom has unintentionally become a collector of coffee mugs. Her collection is larger than average. She has all kinds, small ones with cute phrases on them, ones that travel well and others that look handmade.
01/ 23/ 2017
01/ 06/ 2017
In my year-end post last year, I wrote about my nervousness for 2016. There were unknowns in three different areas of my life: my non-labeled relationship, job and health. Just as I predicted, big changes came for all three.
The year started with learning that the guy I loved didn’t know how he felt about me. Talk about painful. Months of not understanding, of feeling like I must have done something wrong, of blaming myself went by. In late-September, it finally started to become clear that I was not at all to blame. He never treated me as well as I deserved, and it took really understanding that to move forward.