Finding Ella.

She left pieces of her life behind her everywhere she went. It’s easier to feel the sunlight without them, she said. - Brian Andreas

I am on my journey; well into it in fact. Just when I think I am making ground, life socks it to me. Maybe it is to keep me humble. To remind me that I am far from perfect and that life will forever be a continuous classroom for me. I am an eager student as I don’t much like pain or heartache. Yet somehow I always manage to find my way stuck back in the corner with the dunce hat on.

Today I am really hurting. I had a miserable fight last night with my boyfriend who happens to be my dear friend too, as it should be. Anyway, it didn’t last long…maybe 10 minutes, but there was anger sprawled all over the walls in invisible ink. The things we said were true…it was how we felt at the time. However, anger has a nice way of taking one thought and making it morph into something so much bigger at times.

No matter what happens I am not shattered. I shattered years ago and I really don’t think it can happen again to me. Last night, I was ANGRY, HURT, and I felt BETRAYED. Yes, I cried many tears and I woke up this morning looking like I had puffer fish for eyes. I guess that’s when the shock hit. I hate this fight because it was so stupid and there was no reason for it. I try so hard to be open and honest. However, a partnership takes two people and the other person in this one has a hard time expressing himself. It built up on both sides, and it just exploded. What a mess we can make of our lives in a split second. If only we could go back in time for a minute and take back that one response. Alas, we cannot and life rolls out as it does and we are left to choose how we want to respond and react to all the things, including ourselves.

I regret that argument. I regret the fact that we hurt each other. I regret the fact that he is so stinking unhappy with me. I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I can only change myself and how I proceed from this point forward. Today, I decided to be a detective. I wanted to delve deep into what preceded this argument and what was said to try to figure out the ‘why’ on a deeper level. I had to go deep, not to discover his flaws, but to find out why I keep finding myself in this situation.

I survived an abusive marriage. I then fell in love with a man who died a few years later. My current love is an amazing person. Yes, he has faults and shortcomings but so do we all. I hate fighting…I spent years literally defending my life as a married woman. I can’t do fights…I hate them. I lose myself in them. Usually, I try to just stop them before they start. Yes, I know that this is NOT healthy. It is a remnant from the past where I walked on eggshells to keep the peace. Oddly enough today I accepted the fact that I have still been up to my old tricks. I am not writing to place blame on anyone here. There is no fault to be had…this is life. Relationships are hard work, communication is key, and arguments happen.

The other day I read something from Melody Beattie that nearly knocked me over:

“….I know. We didn’t get loved the way we wanted. Some of us have spent years picking through the messy issues of parents who had unusual ways of showing love or who didn’t show love at all.

We may have had spouses who were dreadful at showing love. Issues like alcoholism and other dysfunc­tions can genuinely interfere with a person’s ability to love. Some of us took that personally.We looked around and the only conclusion we could come up with is that we weren’t lovable.

Some of us need to grieve the absence of love in our family of origin. We may have missed an important emo­tional lesson while growing up, and we barely realize it. That lesson is understanding how lovable we are.

Some of us learned to protect ourselves by caring for others, while refusing to let love into our own lives. We found that it is easier to shut down and not be open to love, rather than be denied love.”

Revelation. I read it again today after my ugly argument of last night. As always I had an impromptu therapy session with my best friend. It wasn’t what you might think…two women bashing on the guy. No, I wanted to understand what the hell was going on with me. I was glimpsing the big picture, but I couldn’t make it out clearly. I think that now I can finally see clearly the pieces to the jumble of the puzzle that is my life.

Just to recap with you: I had a lovely childhood, but I was one of many. I guess I needed more attention then I got because I can remember feeling misunderstood and in the way. I don’t blame my folks…I know how hard it is to be a parent. It’s just how it was. I am an empath and incredibly sensitive to others pain. I didn’t need more, I just needed someone to understand me. Childhood morphed into an unhappy adolescence which is par for the course for many. Still feeling completely misunderstood I moved into adulthood. I had a successful career and accolades, but as soon as I started having serious relationships I was so off my game.

Today, I pieced some of the puzzle together. I never felt like I fit in, was understood, or good enough. As a result I felt a lot of inner pain growing up despite the fact that from all angles I was a pretty well-adjusted kid. I didn’t know what to do when I met people who were in emotional pain. It drew me in like a magnet. I felt I could help them because I understood and felt their pain deep into my bones. I was not taught to have healthy boundaries and this is the crux of my problem. Today, I decided that I was going to figure out the common thread that ran through all the men I have had relationships with in order to help heal myself and grow.

I found it, and I didn’t have to do much forensic work. It was staring me down… straight on. All my relationships have been with men who while lovely, have had tumultuous youths. Without meaning any harm, I naturally wanted to help them; even though they didn’t ask for it. I have an incredibly strong personality and I want to help; apparently even at my own expense. My pain as a child allowed me to attract the same in a partner. I guess I always thought that I could love the pain away. You would think that after my marriage I would have learned…not so much. Sure, I put up boundaries, but they couldn’t protect me from something that I really didn’t understand until today. I have attracted partners that I felt were broken like me so I could feel understood. Feeling understood would allow me to feel loved and accepted. It doesn’t work this way friends. It is time for me to leave these pieces in the past and move forward with open eyes.

I need to see myself and how I relate to partners in a new light. I need to accept that I am lovable and I deserve to be loved by a healthy and whole person who can balance me. It is NOT my job to save anyone but myself; nor educate anyone but my children. I think that today I passed with an A. Unfortunately, I had to hit the emotional exploding point with someone I love very much to get it. True love conquers all…I do believe this. I am not talking about the love of romance, but deep soulful love. My favorite poet Kahlil Gibran said, “So as love crowns us so shall it crucify us.” I am realistic in these matters; I know that all roads in life have bumps in them. The kind of love I am looking for might not be attainable. However, I know if I keep working on being a better me and making better choices then I have HOPE. I know what I need to look for and what I need to avoid; and I certainly know that it is NOT my job to save anyone but myself. It isn’t possible for me to give anyone back a happy childhood…even myself.

So, I have picked myself up and I have kicked my ego out the door. This is the real deal; life is bumpy. True relationships are hard work, but they are worth it. It has been said that “We attract the love we think we deserve”. This has an all new meaning for me today. I have chosen to forgive and let go. I commit to being a better version of me, and to let go of the pieces of me that no longer serve me. I am lovable and I am worthy of the same kind of love that I have to give to someone. Here’s to better choices and learning life’s lessons quicker! Xo Ella

The Cycle.

I had an “Ah ha” moment this week.  It was really more of an “Oh my GOD, get your head outta your arse” moment.  I am not too proud to admit when I feel as though I have been foolish…dumb…oblivious.  DENIAL really is a powerful thing.

Now,  for those of you who are immediately reading this and saying, “Ella, don’t be so hard on yourself.” I am here to tell you that I am okay. I have a wicked sense of humor and while I don’t use it on other people while I encourage and support them along on their journey, it is a part of my heritage and it helps me to get on with it.  It’s how I deal personally. So, that being said…I am okay and ever so grateful that I have seen the light finally.

This is a pretty tough thing for me to admit, but I need to share it in order to own it.  Maybe it will open someone else’s eyes to their own situation.  So, here it goes… As many of you know I am a survivor of Domestic Violence. I have become an advocate for many women over the past few of years and I am always referring back to the Cycle of Violence chart that we have all come to know so well.  For those of you who do not know about this incredible Cycle of Violence let me give you a very quick lesson.

It really is this simple.  I could get into a wordy explanation, but this diagram pretty much explains it all very simply. If you would like more information just Google, Cycle of Abuse and you will become very well-informed.  Sometimes the cycles might be a year apart, and other times they might be hours apart.  DV victims are systematically broken down over time.  The cycle starts and it grows stronger, bigger, and bolder before the victim ever realizes that they are in it. Being aware and educated is the first step in breaking the cycle.

I broke the cycle. I took my 2 young children and fled and extremely abusive marriage.  I recognized the cycle and I knew that I could NOT allow my children to grow up in it or they would perpetrate the same cycle as adults. I chose to leave.  I thought that by leaving I broke the cycle…this week I learned that I was wrong.

This is a very humbling experience for me.  I educate people about this…I run groups for women.  I am in the KNOW.  This past week my “Ah ha” moment was that I was allowing my youngest child, my baby, to perpetuate the cycle in my home. He had been given control, by me. Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Talk about a hard pill to swallow.

Let me give you a little background here; my son struggles with anxiety.  He has been misdiagnosed as having ADHD, OCD, ODD, and etc. PTSD is really the only thing that fits right now.  We are still working towards the missing puzzle pieces for him at the moment.  Keep in mind that he is an amazing child; brilliant, funny, loving, and a love of my life. However, his anxiety issues have always caused him to act out.  Yes, ever since he was a baby in the crib.  He has been quick to upset and hard to soothe. It has been suggested that he might have Asperger’s Syndrome; we continue on our journey to find the key to unlock the mystery of him.

Here’s the thing. When you live with a person who is easy to upset you can start to tip toe around their triggers.  You in fact start to walk on eggshells and just try to keep them calm, keep the peace in order to have some sort of peace. This is exactly what I have been dealing with.  We have been going through a crisis lately and as a result we have brought in new therapists. It was this weeks session that brought the curtain down for me.

I had left my husband and the cycle of violence behind, only to find that I was continuing to let similar behavior perpetuate in my home from my son. It is not my son’s fault….it is mine. I have been the enabler. Wow.  Talk about a slap upside the head. My other child gave such a simple example that summed it all up so nicely.  He said, “I am tired of eating Vanilla ice cream.  I like other flavors, but we always get Vanilla so he doesn’t throw a fit. Vanilla keeps the peace.”

Did I mention to you that I had an “Ah ha” moment this past week?! Holy Shit.
What more can I say…I just laid it all out for you. My youngest son has some issues that I need to get a handle on. In the meantime, I am learning how to take the control back since he has had all the control in this house since his father left. I have given him the control…not intentionally, but because it was what I was programmed to do.  I would NEVER allow another man to treat me this way, but I was allowing my son to do so.

I am taking parenting lessons to teach me how to raise my son in a manner in which is best suited for him and his special needs. I am taking back the control and I am going to allow him to be him in all his glory; he just doesn’t get to rule the house with his outbursts.  All along I was thinking that his issues dictated our life…we rolled with the punches. However, I have now learned that while he may have special needs he still needs to follow a code. I have allowed him to emotionally manipulate and control this home and it has now stopped.

It is not going to be easy.  I am already exhausted, but I have such HOPE.  I KNOW that my son is going to be okay.  I know that I have caught this in time to help change this bad cycle. I know that he is going to grow into an amazing man and that his brother will have time to heal as well. My children are as different as night is to-day. I have always known that not all children respond to the same type of teaching.  What I didn’t realize was that because I was so used to being in the cycle of walking on egg shells around my ex husband that I just continued to do it with my child because it is what I know.

I am not beating myself up over this, but yes, I feel a bit foolish.  Why didn’t I see this?  The point is that now I do and I am going to do the work and make the changes that I need to make.  In the end we will all be happier and I have such an optimistic outlook for our futures.  I share this with you so that you can perhaps learn from my mistakes.  The cycle of violence is a very real and powerful thing. Once we are conditioned it is very hard to break.  If you have left an abusive relationship…I am so proud of you.  If you have children please make sure that you are aware that you can still be subject to it.  There is hope…the cycle can be broken, but you will need help and support.

Today, I have incredible support and we are on our way.  We are going to find out exactly what is troubling my child and we are going to learn healthy and positive ways to deal with it. I am not going to break him by being a strong mother.  I am a strong woman…I have walked through fire to save these kids, and to give us a new life. I am not going to surrender to a cycle that I thought I had run from, only to find out that I had become the enabler of the cycle in my home, and with my own child.

Life is hard, but we must always strive to be better versions of ourselves. We must never settle for less. We can have balanced healthy lives no matter what our circumstances may be.  We need to commit to the idea that we are WORTHY of being treated with respect and love in all situations.

XO Ella

Rise Up.

Many years ago I lived as a prisoner in an apartment that most wouldn’t recognize as a cell.  I don’t like to go back there in my head…there are some scary memories that lurk there.  The truth is that no matter how much work I have done on releasing my past, some nightmares never leave you.  Oh you can face them, forgive, and continue to grow, but the visual images in your head, the body memories of the fear and pain, they don’t necessarily leave you.  Those are the feelings that are lodged in our primitive brains…they exist and you need to figure out how to manage them.  I have chosen to turn my back on them for the most part.  I don’t bury them, because some fear is healthy to have…it can save your life.

I have been thinking about my past in contrast to my present.  I started Rebel Thriver because I wanted my experience to serve as a beacon to others…DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP.  There truly is a light at the end of the tunnel and I know this because I have found it.  There is not a day that goes by that I am not incredibly grateful…I know what I have and I know how far I have come. Today, we celebrate the International Day of Women; I decided to celebrate my freedom by sharing with you a little of my story in the hopes that it will bring someone else hope.

Ten years ago my favorite word was Freedom.  I used it as my anchor word.  When the shit was hitting the fan as it so often did I would repeat “Freedom” over and over in my head. I knew that although I was living in an abusive marriage that freedom still existed for me and my children.  I didn’t know how I would find it, but I knew that I couldn’t give up on the dream.  From the exterior no one knew how bad it truly was behind that apartment door.  When the door opened I was dressed and ready to go…appearances were always up.  I had truly perfected my performance over the years.  When I look back at it I feel as though I am watching a movie that is staring some other woman.

Freedom: the state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint.

I clung to the idea of freedom as I locked myself in the bathroom to find solace. I clung to freedom when my husband came home drunk, angry, and looking for a fight. I clung to freedom when he stopped taking his medication and decided that he was going to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.  I clung to freedom as I pushed my babies around town in an overused stroller, trying to kill time so as not to have to go “home”.  I clung to freedom when I was trying to formulate a plan of escape…a plan that I knew I had to get right or the consequences would be high.  So high in fact that failure was not an option.  I was scared to death.  Literally.

The good new is that I sit here and write about this now as if it were a bad dream…i am no longer connected to it.  I found my freedom.  I sacrificed the life i knew for Freedom and in doing so I found a new life.  I wish it was as easy as that last sentence rolls off the tongue, but it wasn’t.  It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life and it went on for years.  It was during this time after the kids and I escaped, while I was relishing my new-found freedom, that my anchor word changed to HOPE.

I had made the great escape; No more terrorist attacks in the middle of the night.  No more violence for my children to bear witness to.  No more yelling………. Over night I had become a refugee in my own country.  The law didn’t hold up its end of the bargain…it let my children and I down.  So while I had my freedom, it wasn’t safe for me to use it.  I was still under his thumb and I had to be vigilant 100% of the time.  There were no holidays for this mother. I was on call 24/7 and I couldn’t fall asleep on my watch if I wanted to stay alive.  It took a lot to get out of bed back then.  It was so hard, and I had two little children; one with special needs.

I kept going though. A spark of HOPE was inside of me and I don’t know if I was dumb or stubborn, but I kept getting out of bed every single day.  I kept doing what I had to do.  The truth is though that my worst day was so much better then my best day had been before I found my freedom.  Even though I was completely overwhelmed I kept going. I had no goal other than to stay alive and take care of my children.  I tried to make everyday fun for them.  I tried to make it an adventure.  It’s so hard to smile when you feel no joy though.  As a matter of fact I felt nothing; I was numb.  Working through that was a challenge to say the least.

Hope: Hope is the state which promotes the belief in an outcome related to events and circumstances in one’s life.  The opposite of despair.

Fear causes you to numb out the pain and if you want to move on and grow you need to face that pain.  That very pain that you have buried deep within and carried around for so long. The reality is that if you don’t commit to doing the work then you are faced with what I found to be a worse senario…to be forever stuck.  To be numb, memories repressed, and forced to live out your life in a labyrinth; always trying to find your way out, and frustrated because it isn’t happening for you.  The only way out is through the pain.  I knew this and Hope helped me through those very hard years.

There are people who are curious; they want to know details of my former life.  I dare not get into the details for a few reason.  The first one being that it would be folly on my part to divulge specific incidents which would expose who and where I am to a very interested party.  Secondly, I have done the work.  I am happy to say that I chose to push through the pain and sail to the other shore where my past wouldn’t be a part of my present.  I make a choice every single day as to what thoughts I express…i can’t stop my mind from bringing up memories.  They are there and they are a part of me.  However, I can choose not to give them energy.  This is why I don’t tell all the nitty gritty details…not because I can’t face them, but because it does not serve me to do so.  The past is left behind for a reason and while I can see it in my rearview mirror, I choose not to turn around.

For those of you who are trapped or just finding your way out of an abusive situation keep going. I know how overwhelming it feels.  I know you are probably wondering how the hell I did it; will you ever be this strong.  This is why I write…I am blazing the trail for you. I am asking you to not give up.  There is freedom on the other side of fear and pain.  Lao-Tzu said, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”  This might feel overwhelming to you if you are at the beginning of your journey, but it’s that one step that got me to where I am today.  I took one step, then another, and truthfully I had no idea where I was going.  I just knew I had to keep moving forward.  This is when I found my new anchor word which remains with me to this very day…BELIEVE.

I Believe that good things can happen.  I believe that my children are going to grow up to be healthy well adjusted adults.  I believe that salvation exists for those who truly want it.  I believe that I am worthy of my freedom and happiness.  I think I decided to adopt Believe when I started this blog.  It was then that I decided to face my fears and let it rip.  Reaching out to other women has changed my life…and hopefully in some small way theirs. Today I am a beacon of light and a peddler of hope.  I Believe with all of me that you can have the life that you dream of. The only thing standing between you and your dream is your fears and self doubt…give them the boot they do not serve you.

Believe: to have a firm conviction as to the goodness of what can come.

If you are struggling right now I ask you to hold on; don’t give up.  Find your anchor word…I cannot tell you how powerful they are. These words became my daily mantra.  I would repeat, Freedom, and then Hope constantly.  Today I embrace Believe completely.  I would be a fool to do anything other than that.  I am blessed with such an abundance of goodness in my life that it truly overwhelms me.  You too can have this.  Believe it and manifest it to happen for you in your life. Don’t you think you are worth it?  If you struggle with self worth then you need to face down, because you are.  Don’t believe the negative voices in your head.  Remember that you are not your past…you are what you are going to become. You have the power to choose your path.  It might not be an easy road, but your Freedom is so worth it.

Let my story shine as an example that you can move on; you can grow, and you can thrive.  No, my life isn’t perfect.  I am not sure that anyone in their right mind would want to change places with me, but I am okay.  I have learned to love myself and forgive myself for allowing all those years to be lost; for not being brave enough to leave sooner. We are all human and we need to keep some levity while here on earth.
I Believed, and I have risen so much higher than I ever thought was possible.  When I glance in my rearview mirror I am reminded about how far I have come.  I share myself with you so that you can find Hope in your own life.  No surrender; this is your one and only life and you hold the pen.  If you don’t then get ready to take the pen back, or in my case just buy a new pen and keep going.   Xo Ella

Becoming.

A year ago today I sat down and wrote my very first blog post.  I called my blog Rebel Thriver for a very specific reason.  It was a year ago that I had decided that I was tired of living within the confines of the life I was regulated to as a result of domestic violence. I was tired of the endless nightmares, constant triggers, and memory loss that PTSD has bestowed upon me.  I needed a way out and I decided that writing would give me the open window that I so desperately needed.  The problem was that I was barely able to write a paragraph.  It took so much deliberate thought to write a few cohesive sentences that I didn’t know how I would do it, but I was determined.  Writing had saved me as an adolescent and I knew it could again.

It has been an amazing year of growth for me personally and I am grateful that I had the courage to sit down and start typing. I signed up for a creative writing class at the local college, knowing that my pride would make me push for an A; I was right about that.  I started that class, and  this blog all around the same time.  I never in a million years could have imagined how the creation of Rebel Thriver would impact my life.

Where did the name Rebel Thriver come from?  Exactly a year ago I was sitting on my bed with my boyfriend expressing my frustration at feeling so limited by my life’s circumstances.  As he always does he challenged me to find a way to change it.  I was taking the writing class to improve myself and my skills; in doing so I cracked the damn that held back my feelings.  I half jokingly said to him, “I should start a blog.  I would call it Rebel Survivor.  Rebel, because a blog is not the safest thing for me to set out to do and survivor because…                       Survivor doesn’t fit me anymore…I am ready to THRIVE.  Rebel Thriver it is.”

 I wrote my first blog post on February 18, 2012 and it was titled “Sometimes you have to be your own Hero”.  After that I quickly followed up with “Cliff Diving” which pretty much expressed the utter fear I had about writing a public blog.  That was the true beginning though…it was there that I declared VICTORY!  I claimed my freedom with all its limitations and I yelled, “I am FREE.”

Liberated pretty much describes how I felt a year ago.  I truly hadn’t felt that free in so many years.  I had gone from living as a prisoner in my marriage right into the shadows in order to keep my children and me alive.  I wish I could say that I was being over dramatic here, but it’s the truth.  The day I met my ex-husband the earth shook…he was everything I ever dreamed of.  That veneer quickly crumbled, but it was already too late…I was stuck. I was a victim of domestic violence and trapped in a vicious cycle. Rebel Thriver was a new beginning for me.  It allowed me to cast off the chains that were holding me down and start living in a new way. I quickly started a Facebook page to go along with my blog…something I swore I would NEVER do.  I thought Facebook was cheesy and a waste of time.  Little did I know that I would find myself and my calling through the many incredible people I met there.  I am so beyond grateful for these friendships.

Life is about learning, loving, growing, and letting go. This past year I have focused on helping others.  I wanted to use what I have been through and what it has taught me in order to help others along the way.  It had been so unbearably lonely and isolating for me.  I found quickly that in helping others I was healing.  I have found my path, and I have gained a new sense of clarity.  Now, believe me when I say that it wasn’t an easy year…they call them growing pains for a reason. They suck, and at times I thought I couldn’t push through them. Then I found one of my favorite mantra’s: There is freedom on the other side of pain.  

This was the moment of the great epiphany for me.  I realized that being numb and avoiding the past, the pain, and the truth would never allow me to make it past “GO”.  I would never find my happy if I kept dulling out the pain with Valium.  I needed to sit with it, feel it, and face it.  If I could do this without internally combusting then I might just have a chance.  So, I tried and it was HORRIBLE….but I did it.  I cried and felt like I would die, and yet I lived.  Life is like this sometimes I have learned.

The year of 2012 turned out to be quite a ride, but I hung on and found my own mantra…ebb and flow. There were so many low points last year…times where I thought I wouldn’t be able to find my way out of the maze of confusion and pain, and yet I did. I followed the advice I had been giving others and I was amazed at how much it changed me.  If I could squeeze it all into one word it would be BELIEVE.  It is within this one word that I found the universe; and so I started believing with all of me.

Rebel Thriver has become so much more than a blog for me to express myself…it has evolved into a community; I happen to prefer the word “tribe” to describe us though.  I have amazing people working alongside me now, and the focus is to create a thriving business. This will allow us to help more people, and offer services such as classes, workshops, coaching, and retreats.  There are a couple of quotes that I love and remind me specifically of the tribe: “Remember we all stumble, every one of us. That’s why it is a comfort to go hand in hand” (Emily Kimbrough), and “We are all just walking each other home” (Ram Dass). These pretty much sum up the Rebel Thriver philosophy.  The old adage is true, we live and we learn. It is so amazing to have such incredible people along side of me on this journey; friends who are courageous enough to admit that they too have emerged from broken, and are back on their path, and thriving.

Through the journey of the past year I too have emerged from broken. I took a chance; I jumped off the cliff only to find that my wings had grown stronger that I ever could have imagined.  I am in a constant state of becoming and I love this. I have learned that living in the present moment is where I will find my peace and that I don’t always have to have the answers to the many questions swirling around in my head. The answer is quite simple my friends…BELIEVE.

To all of you who have been with me on this journey I say THANK YOU with all of my heart and soul.  You have helped me to grow, to heal, and to trust life again.  I have SO much love for you, and I thank for holding my hand along the way…you make my world so much better.

Ella xo

Rebel With A Cause.

I am finally at a place in my life where I can tell my story and not feel burdened by it.  It is my past, and I am NOT my past or what happened to me.  People so often want to feel sorry for me when I tell them a bit of my story.  Which is one of the reasons I don’t share it too much; and details are impossible to share as I am living out of harms way.  I am grateful for the empathy that people express, don’t get me wrong, but it’s really education and awareness that is needed.  I can speak for women and children of domestic violence; I can speak for women who have been raped. These are things that I have lived through and have triumphed over.  These things I understand.

Please don’t misunderstand me when I say I have triumphed.  I live with PTSD and anxiety.  Many people have heard the term PTSD, but they don’t know what it feels like to be inside my head.  I have good days and bad days just like everyone else.  I am however in a constant dialogue with myself about all of the triggers that are constantly going off like landmines in my mind.  Yes, time has lessened the intensity, however, they are still there.  It causes me to lose focus pretty easily and this is the hardest part for me.  I used to be so organized and precise; everything just lined up so easily for me.  Now, I try so hard and some days I just can’t keep it all straight or get it all done.  This causes me anxiety because I am always trying to do my best.  It’s exhausting work being me, and what I need to do is be nicer to myself.

I started this blog less than a year ago.  My intention was to express my feelings and thoughts for therapy.  I needed to be heard…I needed to hear me. Writing it down was the best way for me to do that.  I don’t like to tell the details of my story as they are raw and it’s in the past.  I have left it there finally.  I share my story only so that I can help others feel like they are not alone.  It has been put to me many times that I should write a book, but why would I want to write something that I wouldn’t want to read myself?  Yes, I fell in love and my dream shattered into a million pieces.  I lost my best friend to mental illness.  My children lost a father.  It’s sad stuff.  I had everything I ever wanted in my life…and then it fell apart.

Domestic Violence is humiliating, and it doesn’t discriminate.  I want to help take the stigma away.  I want to help other’s know that they can stop the cycle and that they can have their life back.  It is NOT easy, I won’t lie.  I literally escaped with two babies in my arms.  I have done years and years of work to get to the place that I am today in terms handling my past.  I don’t want to consciously re-visit it.  I do want people to know that I have the capacity to understand though.  I have walked a long, hard road; but even at my weakest I always managed to keep a glimmer of hope alive.  I had a dream that I could have my life back; that’s what kept me going

Rebel Thriver has changed my life. What started out as a personal blog has become a beautiful community.  I have the best friends in the world…literally.  They continue to challenge me and help me along as I continue to grow and work through the tough stuff.  For those of us with broken pasts, we cannot erase them, but we can release them.  Freedom lies on the other side of pain.  That doesn’t mean that our lives will be pain free…it means that we know that the pain will pass.  The sun will shine again and we can feel better.  Our days have not been delegated to the shadows.  We have a choice everyday.  I choose the path of the warrior.  I am a Rebel Thriver with a Cause.

If we can each pay it forward and help each other along then humanity wins.  I give you my hand.  I ask nothing in return but for you to offer yours to someone else. My thoughts might be scattered, but I am focused on one thing.  I dream of growing the Rebel Thriver Tribe into a true community.  I feel I found my true calling.  I haven’t figured out the how yet; I am taking it one day at a time.  Eckhart Tolle says, “Do not be concerned with the fruit of your action – just give attention to the action itself.  The fruit will come of its own accord.”  In other words,”If you build it, they will come.”

It is possible to forgive and let go of the past.  It is possible to have a new beginning. Don’t let your past encroach on your present; don’t let the fear of tomorrow rob you of your today.  Everything is possible if you believe. Miracles do happen if you are open to receiving them.  I have seen them with my own eyes.

xo Ella

My Blooming Garden.

“In search of my mother’s garden, I found my own.” – Alice Walker

I have no daughter; it’s something that I will always long for deep within.  I have felt the need to create the relationship with a daughter that I never had with my own mother.  I know as a parent that no one gives you a manual; you take what you have learned and tweak it, throw out the bad, and try to fill in the gaps with the pieces you feel that you missed out on.  Then you wrap it all up in love.  I have already made it clear to my kids that I am far from perfect; i will screw up, but I LOVE them with all my heart and I am going to do my best to raise them into good men.  It’s hard for a woman to raise a man.

“And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see – or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read.” - Alice Walker

My mother has always been beautiful and she possesses a flair for the artistic & dramatic.  As a writer she had the potential to be quite successful if she hadn’t chosen to be a “mother” to a brood of children instead. Back then you didn’t get a choice.  I remember growing up as a small child feeling her frustration.  Knowing even then that she had regrets about her choices.  As a six-year-old I didn’t understand them; I felt like I was in the way, and it was confusing.

As a teenager of the 1950′s my mother lived what appeared to be a storybook life; cheerleading captain, most popular, star of the play, and Queen of the Senior Ball.  We used to play in her ball gowns from high school when I was a kid…I remember the blue one with the white flowers as my favorite. The pictures of her at 16 in her strapless gown, hair done up, and red lipstick on as she waited for her boyfriend (my father) to pick her up for a dance are forever imprinted in my mind.  To me her adolescence was storybook and I figured mine would be the same.  Truth be known, she had an oppressive and abusive father; and those times were turbulent for her.  She ignored the bad and focused on the good memories as she tried to find herself as a young mother.  I only got part of the story, and to me it was what fairy tales were made of.

“In search of my mother’s garden, I found my own.” – Alice Walker

My parents are still married to this day.  They are done raising their children and have grandchildren now. They made a lot of mistakes raising us, like most parents do.  It was brutal actually.  Fear caused them to be strict and turn to religion as the proverbial crutch.  The iron clad grip that they had on us backfired.  There were no dances, strapless gowns or red lipstick for me; no dating or MTV either.  I felt cheated.  I was about 15 when I realized that there was no storybook for me; I realized that I was never going to have what my mother did so I decided to reject it all.  I rejected her.  Her religious beliefs, her conservative style, her need for stability, and her desire for a community of like-minded people.  Their friends were the worst…they got in the way and muddied the waters even more for me.  So, I rebelled.  I took my mother’s creative spark and ran with it.  I threw it back in her face and told her that I would have what she always wanted.  She chose her life and gave up her dreams, but I wouldn’t.  It caused us both a lot of pain, but is was a pain that felt good to me as a teen.

“What I would like to give my daughter is freedom.  And this is something that must be given by example, not exhortation.  Freedom is a loose leash, license to be different from your mother and still be loved…Freedom is…not insisting that your daughter share your limitations.  Freedom also means letting your daughter reject you when she needs to and come back when she needs to.  Freedom is unconditional love.” – Erica Jong

So I grew.  I raised myself emotionally as she wasn’t there to do that. My parents provided for me and they were always there…and still are.  However, as a young adult I was on my own with my thoughts and feelings…pretty scary times when you fuel it with anger.  I endured a lot of unnecessary life scenarios because of this dynamic and it has taken me years to get to where I am today.

Today, I have found my life, my way, my beliefs, and my own garden to tend to.  I have come to peace with the fact that my life didn’t turn out as I thought it would; there would be no storybook.  I fell many times, but every time I fell I got back up.  Life handed me lessons and while it took me awhile to learn some of them (and I have many more to learn), I have been an eager student.  I am not bitter, I accept what has passed before me.  It has all been a part of my journey and it has brought me here.  It helped that my parents apologized to my siblings and I when we were in our 20′s.  They acknowledged many of their mistakes; while they couldn’t change them they wanted us to know they did their best out of love.  Life never handed them a learning manual either and they had to do the best with what they had been given.  And so it goes…generation down to generation.  We try to correct the sins of the past and avoid making our own inevitable ones.

”We found ourselves always torn between the mothers in our heads and the women we needed to become simply to stay alive. With one foot in the past and another in the future, we hobbled through first love, motherhood, marriage, divorce, careers, menopause, widowhood—never knowing what or who we were supposed to be, staking out new emotional territory at every turn—like pioneers.” – Erica Jong

Today the irony does not escape me.  I am so much like my mother in so many ways.  I always thought my sister was just like her, but it is clear to me that after all the years of frustration and rejection of my mother it is I who is so much like her.  I love my children more than life itself, I am artist, I run a group for like-minded women in the search for a community where I feel supported, safe, and loved…and I write.  I have my mother’s passion to help other women and the empathy to do so. She didn’t want me to know her pain growing up and so I only saw the storybook.  From that I learned that the truth is so powerful and so important.  I wish she had told me the whole story.  The empathy she has is what I have inherited from her…It is my birthright and it flows through my veins.  It calls to me stronger than my art does at this time in my life.  To feel that connection to humanity after being such a rebel for so long is the miracle that my mother gave me. She taught me to give back, to love others; to turn my hard knocks into lessons for helping others survive.

I stay in my garden and I stick to my style of planting, growing, and harvesting.  I don’t feel pressured to be different from her to spite her anymore.  I am the gardener of my soul and I make the choices for the well-being of myself and my tribe.  I plant seeds in the sunlight, but I know that we need the rain to have a bountiful crop.  I also know that love, unconditional love makes the flowers grow.  That is what my mother gave me.  She allowed me to reject her and come back to her and still does, unconditionally.

xo Ella

 

I am the Flow…

I am the flow.  I love this; it is my new mantra lately.  This, from a girl who has spent her entire life swimming against the flow.  Why?  I don’t know why.  I just never felt like I fit in.  I was always swimming up-stream while everyone else was swimming downstream.  Perhaps it was my insecurities just telling me that I needed to stand out a little to be noticed?  Okay maybe I tried to stand out a lot.

Blue hair, orange hair, black nails, black hair; a pigment of his imagination is what my father used to call me.  I laugh about it now, but back then it felt like he was rejecting me.  I really did try to be myself in a world where so many were just following the pack.  I always followed my heart and while it made me wildly successful in business it nearly killed me in my personal life.

This past year has been chock full of lessons for me.  Painful lessons that took me a long time to finally get.  I’m talking years to finally get.  I have finally arrived at many of the answers, and that makes all the discomfort (okay, most of it) bearable.  It’s kind of practice what you preach, walk the talk, kinda moment for me now.  I am so good at giving advice, but not so great at listening to myself.  That’s one of the things I love most about Rebel Thriver…I get feedback.  Sometimes, I even get called out on something and challenged on my very own thoughts.  I am at a place though in my life that if someone comes to me in love to express a concern about me, my direction, etc. that I can actually sit with it and be pretty open to them.  I welcome it as I cannot do this all alone.  I need that feedback….we all do.  A sounding board for our lives.

I live on the ocean and I am so very aware of her tides.  The ebb and flow of the water is life.  It’s all about flow.  As we like to say in Rebel Thriver…life is a process.  Everything is ebb and flow on the way to finding balance.  I readily admit that for the last few years fear has cause me to befriend ebb and not pay much attention to flow.  That’s changed recently as I have flipped the switch for balance in my life to the ‘on’ position.

Resistance is a very powerful thing.  Sometimes we don’t even realize that we are in fact resisting life.  We make up excuses and turn a blind eye to any opportunity that might find us a way through the shadowy maze. We ignore that a balanced life is about ebb and flow and we just let fear take over and win. Waking up from that is akin to waking with a bad hangover.  It’s hard to shake off, but it’s possible.

I woke up with this very hangover…it lasted for many years.  Ebb was all around me and flow was no where in sight.  It’s all changed now.  How you ask?  Well, I have Hurricane Sandy to really thank for that.  You see i was pretty stuck in my life as it was…going about my business and wondering what the hell I was going to be when I grew up.  Yes this was about 2 months ago.  I know what I want…I dream BIG.  I have a lot of fear though.  The residual effects of abuse run deep and although I was wildly successful in my past career I still lacked the faith in myself that I was able to do it.  Self doubt…it’s a bitch.

Hurricane Sandy came through my life when I thought things couldn’t get any more confusing for me.  She brought me to my knees and opened my eyes.  I realized that all the mental resistance was preventing me from moving forward.  I let go of Ebb and welcomed Flow back into my life. Now they come and go at regular intervals and I know that even if I am afraid of taking a step I have to trust that the ground will be there when I touch down.  I have learned to let go and ride the waves.  Ironic that for a surfer it has taken me so long to get this lesson!

The lesson has been learned.  I am not pushing back now.  I am working with the current and I am finding life to flow so much better.  Why did it take me so long to figure this out?  I guess the bottom line is…FEAR.  Fear makes us believe that if we are ”in control” of it all then the bottom won’t drop out.  Fear tricks us because there is no such thing as having control.  So if we can just let go of that false sense of security that we think our “control” gives us then we can be free to take life as it comes.  Just like jumping waves at the beach.  You have to learn when you can go over the wave or when you need to dive deep to avoid the crashing mess above.

Be the flow… this is the lesson that took me over 40 years to learn.  This is the lesson that took my life falling apart to teach me how to bring it together.  This doesn’t mean that I won’t have fear or struggle with choices and decisions…I will.  It means that I am open to hearing what life is trying to show me.  I am open to more than just “my way.”  I am open…and only when we are truly open can our spirits flow.  Xo Ella

The Magic Returns.

The Holidays are here and this is my magical time of the year. I usually start decorating on Thanksgiving weekend and I keep going right until we nestle in for Santa’s arrival on Christmas Eve. Growing up, my mother made Christmas an adventure. We didn’t have a lot of money when I was little, but her attention and involvement was so over the top. We made popcorn garland, paper chains, cookies, cards, went caroling, etc. She really made the season magical and I have tried to do the same with my kids.

Now I do understand that this is a very tough time for many people.  I even hold back a little with my exuberance in public so as to not offend anyone.  I know this season is a double-edged sword for many and it triggers bad memories as equally as it brings good ones for so many.  The holidays can be like a bad taste in your mouth.  It lingers with a dull bitterness.

When I left my husband it was about 2 weeks before Christmas. I had 2 little boys and I walked away from everything I had. My house had been decorated and I had all the shopping done.  I left it all, career, home, clothes, friends, and a lifetime of christmas decorations….everything.  I am sure that my ex husband thinks he won some kind of award for scarring my favorite season forever.  He knew that I believed a magical Christmas was my children’s birthright; that it was my most treasured of times and memories.  He took pleasure in telling my 5-year-old that Santa wasn’t real just to hurt me. He tried in every way to destroy it for me.  Just writing about it hurts me to this day.

I however am stronger than his attempt to ruin this season.  I will admit that Christmas that I left was bleak.  I was numb, terrified, and not very merry to say the least. I remember the following year starting to feel dread about the approaching holiday.  I actually gave him power for a week or so.  Then, I decided to take it back.  How could he take my most precious memories away?  He didn’t have that power unless I gave it to him.

I decided to play offense for Christmas. I started making paper chains, cookies, popcorn garland, and play the Christmas tunes.  I broke out every television special like Rudolph,  Frosty, and the Little Drummer Boy.  I went on an all out reconnaissance for Christmas.  I made Christmas ornaments for our tree and decorated our little cottage till it was nothing short of a magical winter wonderland.  I didn’t have much money, but it is amazing what you can do with paper, scissors, glitter and glue!  I gave my children what I remembered from my childhood….magical memories.

That was my favorite Christmas as an adult…a mother.  I had left everything only to gain it all back.  I made a decision to fight for my happy. I learned a lot that Christmas about fighting for what you love.  That Christmas doesn’t have a price tag; if you try to put one on it then it loses it magic.  You can’t buy Christmas because it isn’t for sale.  You have to work for the magic.

This Christmas my children and I are without a home as a result of Mother Nature.  She sent her sons Heat Miser and Snow Miser out and they collided over my home. (They really are little bastards, but I still can’t wait to see them on TV this year). I lost many of my cherished decorations in the flood that accompanied Hurricane Sandy’s high tides and I started to feel like I did that Christmas that I walked away from it all a few years back.

I admit I was feeling a bit melancholy about the season recently.  I am grateful beyond a doubt that I am not in a shelter and that I have temporary place to stay that is comfy and warm.  However, I was really feeling like I was going to miss the season because I don’t have a home to make magical this year.

Then, I remembered that Christmas doesn’t come in a box;Cindy Lou Hoo was so right on!  I am getting more and more excited as I type this.  I want to go wake my kids up and say, “Christmas is here!”.  I want to crank the tunes, start baking cookies, and make paper chains. I am going to make it happen.  I am going to keep the Christmas magic alive.  I can do this for my kids…for me.  I can give them happy memories after all it only takes my effort and enthusiasm.

Happiness is a choice.  I really believe that.  I also believe that for me, Christmas is a choice.  The memories of my childhood at Christmas are my finest and I won’t settle for less for my kids. Again, it isn’t about what is under the tree…it never was.  It is about the magic; and the condensation on the cold windows when the cookies are baking and the snow is falling.

I know that this is a tough time for many and I really can appreciate that.  I can see how easily it can be…I do understand.  If I didn’t have such magical childhood memories I might not fight so hard, but I do to keep the magic alive. Maybe if you have less than happy memories you can try to find something that you can create or do for you…a new tradition so that you can claim your part of the season rather than dread it; maybe not.

I had an epiphany tonight and I am really grateful for that.  I am NOT going to give into the despair of less than perfect circumstances and miss the magic of this season.  I herby declare that, “Christmas is on!”. Santa still comes here and I have cookies to bake and magic to make.  I am so grateful that we are not in a shelter this year, but if we were…we would still find the magic because it is there if you are willing to look for it.   Ella xo

Ps. My 5-year-old didn’t believe his father when he told him that there was no Santa; even though he made a convincing try.  My son chose to BELIEVE, and Santa continued to come to him for about 5 more years because he chose to hold on to the magic!

* Thank you A Room with a View on Facebook for the amazing photo’s.

It’s the Getting Up that Counts.

It’s not really the falling down that is the problem…it’s whether or not you get up. You should know by now that life takes no hostages. We live in a dog eat dog world where everyone is preoccupied with climbing up the rungs of the ladder of success. Humans are more concerned with winning the race than they are about having a healthy and happy journey.

My dear friend send me a quote the other day that read, “Sometimes you fall down because there is something down there that you are supposed to find.” What a great perspective! I quote my dear Mother, “Life will always find a way to humble you.” I used to hate when she said that when I was growing up, but she was so right. The key here is that we can choose to learn from the fall or we can choose to roll as a victim in a pile of bad luck.

Life to me is all about the three L’s: Love, Learning, and Laughter. So many of us strive for the Love and the Laughter while trying to avoid the Learning; after all learning isn’t always pleasant, is it? They call them “growing pains” for a reason you know.  Sometimes, the pain is so great, we bleed and we cry and yet we still don’t learn the lesson we need to. So, we find ourselves back again in a similar situation until we learn the lesson.

I believe that some situations are meant to teach us from more than one angle. We might need to have that de ja vu experience more than once to learn it all. If we are lucky we only have to do it once, but how many of us are lucky? If we are smart we only have to do it….well, perhaps it’s a combination of luck and smarts that might just push you through. I am determined, focused and I like to work hard, set a goal, and get what I started after. This can be really good or really bad. When I was younger I felt that if I didn’t follow through to the end and achieve my end goal that I failed. Now that I am older and more enlightened i know that life is fluid and we need to be flexible. We need to be open to change course when the wind shifts. Just like sailing.

I had a college roommate who used to say to me, “God, you are one stubborn and determined girl. You are smart, but you keep banging your head into the same damned wall. One day, it’s gonna hurt like hell and then hopefully you’ll learn that you need to change your path and go around the wall.” I knew she was right then, but I needed to bang my head quiet a few times to finally get it through my thick skull.

I think the Rolling Stones were so spot on when they sang, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime…you might just get what you need.” Learning is a process and part of that process is being able to walk away when a situation isn’t right. We don’t always have to try to fix it or them. Being flexible can take you just as far as determination, maybe further.

Where am I going with all of this? I am trying to tell you that it’s okay to fall. It’s okay to change your path, and it’s okay to change your mind. Falling doesn’t mean that you failed. You have to remember that this is your life and that the only person you need to answer to is you. Growing up in a western culture the emphasis is on personal acquisitions. If you own the world, but do not know yourself, what have you gained?

I know all of this, and have since a young age, yet I am human. Therefore I screw up and I bang my head into the same wall time and time again. I get frustrated and mad and wonder who the hell keeps putting that wall in my way?! Gratefully, I also know that along the way I have become somewhat enlightened enough to know that I put the wall there. I need to learn something, and until I can step back and really search and listen I will never learn the lessons needed.  It’s up to me.

I just bashed my head really hard into a big old familiar wall. This time it hurt…and trust me I learned. I had that “a ha” moment and just like that I learned the lesson that life has so desperately been trying to teach me for countless years. Yes, I said years, and I will remind you again of the sage words of my Mama, “Life will humble you.” Oh why didn’t I listen to her?

My friends, don’t lose heart when you fall down. Don’t be so quick to jump up and act like no one saw you either. Let your friends help you up and take the time to really listen to their advice. Take the time you need to really check the situation…you can even look for the lesson amidst the rubble. Sometimes it’s right in front of your face, but you just don’t want to acknowledge it. We all learn at our own pace, but take one piece of advice from me, now that I have learned a thing or two…”Keep your eyes open and on the path in front of you…be open to learning, advice, and change. Remember it’s not all about the destination; the journey has its good points too.”

Xoxo Ella

The Crack in my Soul.

There is a crack in my soul that I didn’t even realize I had. I realized that at one point in my life no so long ago I had many; maybe a few hairline fractures left, but NOT this.

I have had the privilege of being raised by amazingly loving parents who have been together for over 55 years. My father is my hero. Not perfect by any chance, but steadfast, loyal, and oh so steady. He has always been there for me. No matter what. Period. I am blessed and I know it.

Today, as I was sitting in a therapy session with my young son, I noticed this crack in my soul.  I have walked a path unlike most mothers that I know. It’s taken my son about 6 years to start verbalizing his feelings. I’ve waited a long time for this. Until now his feelings would come out as physical reactions to the triggers going off in his vast mind. I could see all of the pieces, but I couldn’t put them together. He is one of two gifts that I received during my abusive marriage.  Thank GOD for the them they are the silver lining.

Many people would think that a man would take it easy on their pregnant wife.  He did the first time; beginners luck?  When I was pregnant with my second child I knew after the 3rd month that the nightmare had begun. The kind of nightmare you try to wake yourself up from, but there is no hope. This time there would be no apologies or therapy sessions.  The proverbial straw broke the camels back and the abuse continued until the children and I were able to flee to safety.

My baby was about 2 years old by then. Domestic Violence caused this perfect little baby to come into this world early, and it is what has caused him so much anxiety and frustration. It’s taken years of patience for me to wait not knowing if he would ever be able to verbalize how he felt…or what it was that actually made him feel “bad”. His anxiety levels are high and he is worried that things aren’t going to turn out okay. No matter how much I assure him the anxiety remains. The fear of the bottom dropping out again is always there, and my anxiety doesn’t exactly help him either.

Today we had a bit of a break thorough though! We have already established that he is angry, but that’s about as far as we have managed to get. Today it crystalized in his brilliant little mind. He spoke clearly and verbalized his inner most feelings for the first time really. He wishes that he could be “normal”.  He wants a normal family. He wants a Dad; one that is actually in his life. He wants to have a home where he can stay and feel safe and not have to run in the middle of the night. He wants stability.

I wish I could tell him that I want the same thing, but I can’t.  It’s my job to “make the best of the adventure”.  I have done everything in my power to give this to him, but I can’t remove the cause of our anxiety. That person still walks this earth and as long as I am a mother I will have to make the necessary moves to protect my children. I know it is hard on them. Shit it’s HARD as hell on me.  We have lived a life that movies are made of.  The fine details are not permissible for our safety; suffice it to say though, that this little boy has endured what most adults will never have to consider.

I am so proud of my son. I am so incredibly grateful that he was able to verbalized this today. I felt like the caged bird finally sang it’s sad song. He was exhausted from the process and sad for having heard it come out of his own mouth I believe. The simple realization that this is his life, and he wished it were different. God knows I try my best to make his little life as magical and blissful as I can. I try to make everyday an adventure so he feels special and not different.

I don’t think I realized until today how deeply sad he is about having a void where a father should be. He doesn’t see or talk to the man who helped create him. He just doesn’t have a dad and I have tried to remedy that.  I met an incredible man and I thought he was it, but he died less than a year ago. I know my son is devastated from that because he misses him and he wants a dad. Period. Unfortunately, that’s simply a void I cannot fill and Lord knows I have tried.

It was at this moment with him that I realized that there was a crack in my soul; I had to use all my super hero powers to hold back the tears. This crack cannot be fixed with love from another. I cannot repair it with laughter. It is what it is.  It is because of my choices that my son suffers. No, I don’t hold myself hostage for this, but it has created such a sadness within. I thought I could be both a mother and a father if I loved him enough, but I can’t. He’s a boy and he wants a dad, and that is that.

I read something lately that said that the cracks in a person are what let the light in. It was meant to be funny since I am a bit left of center; cracked. However, after considering this more I think I am going to have to go with that idea with all sincerity. My soul is cracked and the light is going to pour in until the day comes that I can remedy this situation. Until then all I can do is be the best mother and friend this little boy can have, and keep the conversation going. I thank GOD that he is talking even though it kills me a little every time I hear his little voice speak such sad truths.

This is not going to be a sad ending though.  I am his mother and I hold the pen.  I am writing a happy ending to this adventure and I plan many adventures along the way.  Itwill be filled with love, magic, and whimsy; and when he is angry I must remember that he is just sad.  I must remember to wear my crown and cape everyday as I set out to save the day.  How blessed am I to be able to be on this journey with my two best friends?  xo Ella