I recently was confronted with “Sacred Contracts” by Caroline Myss and it changed my perspective on some things. It says we all make a contract in heaven –on some spiritual realm which I will call heaven to simplify the matter. Our contracts are things like teaching or promoting peace generosity or her example is Helen Keller teaching no boundaries. It’s our purpose so to speak. And we make that contract with other spirits. Such as Helen Keller’s parents. They were part of the contract well before they descended to earth.

Of course we cannot remember our contract and there are some three elements she mentions. My point is that I have tried figuring out my contract. I think it has to do with unconditional love. I think my purpose is to promote unconditional love. Now, what this means is that in order to do that I must encounter or create a lot of conditional love first. She points out if it were easy then we’d be arrogant and good for nothing. And EVERYone we encounter is a contract we made to teach us well before we came here.

I can see that. It is a completely different angle than anything I’ve ever taken to examine my life. And believe me, her lectures and books are much deeper than my summary. But back to conditional love. If it isn’t the purpose of my contracts then it would be a lesson well learned.

I’m really, really bad at projecting my definition and view onto people. And I had a need to be right for a long time. I’m learning that if no harm is done by someone being wrong, then by all means I just let them carry on. And sometimes if they wanna be insistent they’re right then I step back then too and watch them struggle so that they can learn themselves.

It’s all kinda humbling to sit and examine how many ways I love with conditions. Which I have done for several days. It means I am excluding real love–an unconditional love returning itself to me. And it makes me see the past as a giant staircase to enlightenment on my path for unconditional love. Every contract, person, experience (choose the word that you relate to the most) has been a step in directing me. When you turn to your past and look at it like that, it’s really easy to forgive and move on. With every step my conditions release and my worth builds. Not net worth, bitches. Soul worth.

There is still a very long way to go. I have found myself biting my lip or hitting the delete key more than ever before because I am changing my approach. Love in every single relationship should be unconditional. Doesn’t mean my coworkers and I can fail at our jobs or be careless, it means I love their soul no matter what just as much if not more when we screw it up. For me it means my way of projecting the way someone should live on them ends. Completely.

This experiment (if you wanna call it that) has taught me how much of my past was produced out of fear or lack of self esteem. I got to question myself now: am I doing this out of fear or love? Iyanla Vanzant says all things are either done from fear or love. It is quite fearful to imagine loving someone so much we just let them be 100000% themselves with nothing in return. I don’t think I will be the guru of unconditional love when the journey is over. No, that’s comical actually. But we touch hundreds of lives in our times here. And maybe, just maybe, a soul is out there to come with a contract that says for the next 50 years I will help you fulfill part of that purpose.

Happy Valentines Day to the souls I know and who are contractually bound to my spirit…& to that soul I still hold out for who will be my biggest teacher.

I’ve been feeling the need for a few weeks to exorcise some inner demons. Writing is cathartic for me (I just can’t say that often enough can I?). I have feared that I may offend someone, or that somehow by unleashing what’s inside me there will be repercussions I won’t enjoy. Well, FTS. On my busiest blog day ever—4th of July, I think—I had 20-something readers. So, what I deduce is that if I express myself on my own page only 20-30 people will ever look at it? And of those 20, maybe 2 will be offended? I give myself permission to be me.

I’ll just start by saying love feels like a demon to me. Now, rationally I understand it’s a lack of love that is the demon, never love. But then sometimes the mind and the heart are not in sync. It isn’t easy (and creepy) like iPhone and Facebook people. I can tell you honestly that twice in my life I’ve had an experience that felt like real love (like the Beatles song) and lasted a few years. I can also attest that it ended horribly both times. Now, I sit here and wonder if I am so screwed up that I’ve never known love? Love doesn’t always last. In both situations I speak of, people evolved and we became so separate that life together didn’t make sense. It didn’t make happiness either.

Yet, I’m always chasing a spark that I long to feel once again. And Lord Jesus whyyyyyyyy? Why do I chase it so? I can’t answer that. I’m an odd mixture of someone who is fiercely independent and yet loves to be around others. I like that I can do whatever I want to do at my house. No one is here so I can run around naked, rearrange the furniture, watch depressing old black and white movies, whatever! I do none of that, FYI. Seriously though, I do like that I have my own space and my hundreds of unfinished projects aren’t in anyone’s way or annoying someone. And then, there’s that tug. I wish that someone was here to help me finish a couple. Someone to tell me to get the collages done so the carpet can be vacuumed. Maybe a pair of helping hands to get my bicycle together and laugh as I learn to ride again. And a more serious housekeeper wouldn’t hurt any feeling I possibly have.

I digress. Back to this endless spark chase. Maybe it’s my biological clock. It was ticking, now it’s like an alarm going off. It certainly isn’t because I see a slew of other people loving their relationships. Actually, there’s a few relationships I admire (probably because I don’t live them) but for the most part I sit back and think, “Yeah you have fun with that.” Perhaps I’m an attention whore? But I really like to give attention more than get it. I’m a great assistant on every level. And seeing as how I make large decisions that impact our business and other people all day, every day without much time to think it over, I really don’t want to be the major decision maker. In fact, I often wonder if I could be ‘the man’ in the relationship? I mean, can I be the breadwinner who goes to the office and stresses over work and have a man who is cleaning the house but is still an alpha male and runs the show? Is that having and eating one’s own cake? And that’s a bit of an exaggerated idea of what I’d like FYI for anyone reading this who somehow ended up remaining on my friends list and has no idea how snarkey I can be.

That last paragraph only leads me further down the darkened tunnel I call a soul. I’m an oxymoron inside myself. I’m not proclaiming to be the best one to teach a seminar on balance in one’s life but I never considered myself unbalanced (for long periods of time)(and that’s what matters). I like to think I can spot problems areas or excessiveness and buff it right out. And maybe I can, except when it comes to mating. OR, maybe there are so few balanced people that it’s really hard finding another one like me! Like how there are Jack in the Box’s all over TX but you can’t eat Jack in the Box here! It’s not to be found. Geez, nothing is coming of this blog except more questions and unveiling my true crazy nature (and undying love of Jack in the Box tacos).

Maybe I put it best in a message to a friend: “It just sucks getting old and being retarded at the same damn thing after all these years.” And, now that it’s off my chest, I do feel better. I never clearly identified my demons. Or, maybe they’re dancing all around me like the Grateful Dead bears and I just don’t see them because we’ve been doing this same number for so long. Or, most likely, this is the same kind of feelings that swoosh over people when things don’t work out and I just need a minute to pick myself up, dust off, and give myself a soul hug and thank God for the friendship and gifts brought to me by everyone who enters my path. <—– OK, there it is, there I am!! I knew I was in there. Whew, I was thinking this was going to be a blog where I left more stumped than when I entered it. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. And tonight, I WILL be grateful for the times like this and for having garnered a best friend out of it all. Goodnight, Jerry. Love, Elaine.

From my journal.  Inspired by a post on Facebook by Cali Rob.

APRYL HALL

I just looked in the mirror and loved the girl smiling back at me.  I love Eminem, New York City, Oprah [ALL things Oprah], tattoos even though I only have 3.  Any book is a friend.  I pray over my food.  I am brave, spontaneous, & know laughter can heal.  I love my dog and if she got along with others I’d have many, many more.  I left my past but choose to look back at it fondly.  I make collages & write ramblings.  These things heal me.  I’ve come this far because of my strengths and in spite of my weaknesses, but never alone.  I’m unafraid of relocating but cannot imagine falling in love with another place like I have the Mississippi Coast.  I’m always open to possibility—especially when it looks like I’m not.  That’s when I need it most.  I’m still growing up & am a self-improvement & quote junkie.  I have a shade of evil & dark inside me that karma keeps in check regularly.  I’ve found patience isn’t a virtue, it’s the greatest & my biggest obstacle.  I miss my family—blood & other—& hope my little, bitty life makes them very proud.  I’ve loved many times & do not ever see that as a loss.  Get it while you can; all things change.  Technology has started to get the best of me & I’m considering letting some of it go.  Facebook is like E! channel but all people you know.  Or crush on.  Or can’t remember how they got on your friends list but it’s too compelling to delete them.  And finally, I use Downy April Fresh because it has my name (sorta) on it. 

Got some weird obsession with Eminem lately, as most of you know from FB. Something in this rings a bell…
“Imprisoned by a selfish bitch
Chew me up and spit me out
I fell for this so many times
It’s ridiculous
And still I stick with this
I’m sick of this but in my sickness and addiction
You’re addictive as they get
Evil as they come vindictive as they make em
My friends keep asking me why I can’t just walk away from
I’m addicted
To the pain, the stress, the drama
I’m drawn in so I guess imma mess
Cursed and blessed”
(25 to Life)

I’ve got to make this quick.  I’m on my (rare) lunch break.  It’s purge time I guess.  Not blogging often enough causes me inner anxiety.  I apologize for littering the virtual universe with my problems (or lack thereof) but it’s soothing.  And it’s optional for you to even read this.

I’ve had two aha moments in the last 24 hours.  The first thought struck me last night.  I was doing that thing where I try to go to sleep and my brain was flooded with worries, remembering conversations, and even went to the always detrimental “what if things had been different” stage.  I suddenly put the brakes on those thoughts.  It hit me–my own thoughts were keeping me unhappy.  These things that happen to us and with our permission sometimes leave wounds.  But that’s it.  Wounds.  Not diseases.  In other words, no matter what it is yes it hurt, yes it took time to heal, yes you had to modify life to learn to live with the pain, but it heals.  And yes, there’s a scar.  Some scars are bigger than others but it heals eventually.  The only person who take your wounds and make them diseases are you and you do it with your thoughts.  That relationship, that job, that person, that love, that opportunity–whatever nags at you–is OVER.  By keeping the thoughts alive I was turning my wounds into a disease and giving it the life it needed to hurt me.  Time to bury the past and move on.

The second thought occurred as I exited the bathroom earlier.  I looked in the mirror and thought, “Wow, that is one nice [behind].”  And it hit me once again that until I love the skin I’m in (thanks, Dove) you will not take care of it and transform it.  Think about it–we put time and energy and nurture into things we love, not things that irritate us or make us sad and bring us to a lowly state.  If I keep thinking negatively about my body, it will not get the attention and care from me it deserves because honestly I’d rather just not think about it.  And then I realized, there are a few things to love about it.  My waistline isn’t one of them but girls with waistlines like I want have to pay to get the natural bust and ass I got!!  I just need to exercise and it will be awesomeness.  I have been blessed with an hour glass.  A little love and attention to it would only be right.  So, I’m starting HerbaLife this month and I will keep in mind I’m doing it for the things I LOVE and not the things I HATE.

Lesser matters, I cannot for the life of me decide if I want to commit to a Kindle Fire or not!!!  Advice appreciated.  The iPad was awesome but it gave me a serious headache when I read on it.  The Kindle cut the headache out but the basic Kindle is really blah and you can’t change the brightness setting at all.  I should have gotten the paperwhite Kindle and maybe I would be happy.

I am loving being free from all commitments except work these days.  I waited months for the craziness to stop so I could enjoy this time and catch up on work.  I spent my New Years working well into the early morning hours and all the next day.  It was awesome.  Now, I guess I better clock back in so I can get more of the weight off my shoulders.

It’s the month of gratitude and thanks and I started out very strong posting my thanks daily on Facebook. Then… a job, the play, and a new assignment writing for the Coast Observer pretty much got in the way of my daily mediations of thanks. I covered the basics, I’ll at least say that. However, two people haven’t gotten the attention they deserve and I just decided to blog—where grammatically incorrect writing is allowed—instead of a long post or a note.

The first is Amy Hall-Rampage: wife, roomie, co-worker, and generally the keeper of the zoo known as Apryl. I don’t even know where to begin. If you know Amy then you know there’s a reason Kenny gave her the nickname Optimus Prime. She is the most optimistic person I’ve ever met. She is like a light in the dark among people. Sometimes it makes me wanna vomit! 🙂 Joking aside, I’m blessed to have such a person around me. She has the softest heart and makes room for so many people. I just don’t know how she does it. I’m equally saddened she’s moving out and happy she’s found someone to start a new chapter in her life. I know if I ever need her all I have to do is call. And she’s offered to take Chloe for sleepovers so Chloe can also see Paul sometimes. I think this arrangement will work nicely for Chloe and Paul. And if you know me, you know how incredibly guarded I am about this hellacious animal I call mine. Few, if any, people would I drop Chloe off with and not fret about her well-being. That alone pretty much sums up how I feel for this brave woman. Cheers to Christmas spirit, new beginnings, and sleepovers with my dog!

The second person is sooo obvious I shouldn’t even write it. It’s Scott. Now, I am known in my past for pouring out emotions over the years and after a few heartbreaks, I reigned it all in. That’s the funny thing about being human, you don’t have to show emotion to have just as much under the surface. Quite frankly, I’m not really sure the “hold it all in” thing works to my advantage. Somehow I think if I don’t express it, it will be less true. That’s false. The more I hold things in, the less I can clearly see where to put them. However, I think one thing I’ve learned from the polar opposites of self-expression is that a little bit of time to consider things and not immediately reacting has worked in my favor. A little reflection instead of reaction serves a great purpose.

I think one thing that Scott and I share is a little emotional quirkiness. We aren’t going to bust out in some dramatic schpeel. Except me, right now. I’ll drop the general comedic wit and sarcasm for a very brief moment to put it on front street: (Hang on, kids) Scott is the most awesome dude on this planet and he makes my life so wonderful. I feel secure, respected, equal, and comfortable around him. It took a minute to test the waters, but one day my soul just opened up and there he was and I let him in. In the words of Savage Fate, “I will grab ahold and I will never let go” but I don’t mean that in the psycho stalk-you-forever way or the physical hands-around-your-neck way, babe. I mean it as in I will always be there to cheer you on even when it’s really busy and tough because you do it for me. I don’t even think he knows that sometimes his words turn my day around or help me float through until I can catch my breath.

I am not an easy person to love. Mostly by self-design, regrettably. I feel vulnerable and I see weakness. If any of you other ladies happen to feel this way, please read “Captivating” by John & Staci Eldredge. It will change your life FOREVER. It’s a Christian book but even if you aren’t a Christian you can gain insight into parts of your soul you never looked. This is a quote from the book that is from C.S. Lewis’ “The Four Loves”:

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable…The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers…of love is Hell.

Wow. If that resonates with anyone, read the book. Every time I quote it, I want to read it again! One last sentence from the book that I have highlighted: “What if you have a genuine and captivating beauty that is marred only by your striving?” Sit on that, folks.

Back to me (you are at apryl.me). It took a lot of time and hard work but everything around me changed when I let go of that stigma that my vulnerability would be a weakness and instead realized it’s part of my strength as a woman and didn’t deduct anything from me. Scott wasn’t the catalyst or the result of understanding my nature better, but I’m happy to share the benefits of it by finding someone worthy to reap what I sow.

Scott, you’re totally awesome, I’m totally lucky, and if I don’t shut this down we’ll be late…again. Thanks for being an incredible man and letting me call you mine.

Before I end I need to list other things I’m thankful for: books, music, dogs, Facebook, the ability to delete the Facebook app, my job, my car, my house, my clothes, the losses that have taught me invaluable lessons, the beach, the sunrise, the moon, and my friends/family<;– I feel they should be lumped as one. Friends are just the family God lets you pick so you can deal with the other relatives.

It’s amazing the pressure we put on ourselves and each other to look a certain way. Especially women. Not to say men are immune from this epidemic, but women tend to internalize general statements or take criticism far too harshly than it is meant. Men are better at filtering the bullshit and telling someone to F off and not thinking twice about it. In fact, they’ll probably meet up at Hooters the next day and act like it never happened. Cause guys are way cool like that. I wish women were more like that.

My struggle with weight has been going on about 10 years. I don’t think it would have been so bad except up until I was 21 or 22 I was a size 0 or 3. When I enlisted in the Air Force [I dropped out before BMT], I had to have a waiver because I went on a crash diet to GAIN weight and got to 98 pounds. 98 was the highest I could go!! Skinny thing but curvy. Always a gap with my shorts because of my juicy booty and never less than a B cup. Looking back, it was pretty sensational. But unfortunately I never saw myself as having a “juicy booty” or a nice rack. I saw hip bones that protruded out into the great wide open and I thought everyone could see them through my clothes. Now? What I’d give to see my hip bones is hysterical and insane. I went from skinny to a perfect 6. Six is a wee bit meaty for a 5’2” girl but nothing really overdone. Was I happy then? No. All I could see is the girl who had to wear glasses and was so short. I never even had a pimple until my mid-20s. But I detested my skin from birth. Albino, vampire, clear, translucent, pigmentless…whatever you want to call it. I can’t get a single ray of sunshine to stick to my skin no matter what I try. A tanning bed on the lowest setting for less than 5 minutes burnt me once and so I (thankfully) never tried that again. And I can tell you where almost every freckle is and the one mole. I remember trying thinking if I got the skin off it might grow back unfreckled so I bled a couple times. And the tiniest birth mark known to man but to me it felt like a giant lump of black coal on a snow white field. This was where my mind was until size 8-10.

It’s not his fault—all the above thoughts were my own and not inspired (terribly much) by others—but around size 8 the ex husband began showing and vocalizing his displeasure in my appearance. Take someone who never had confidence about her body to begin with and add to it his influence and my mind went to a toxic place. Whatever I had seen as beautiful was forgotten. I thought I was a fat pig. And so, I acted like one. And nevermind my marriage was going to hell already, I thought my distastefulness looking reflection in the mirror was to blame. I was young and it wasn’t so obvious then that the toxicity was not injected by me but by someone who didn’t love me [for his benefit let’s say he didn’t know how to love me because I think he really did love me]. At this point in my life I felt like the ugliest person alive. And by the end of it all, I was a size 16 weighing in just at 165lbs. When the marriage crumbled I couldn’t have hated myself—or life—any more I don’t think.

And then, almost magically, depression and freedom and then happiness suddenly put me into an 8 again [one pair of 6s fit for the record]. I maintained that a couple of years and then got comfortable and sedentary and crept back up towards the record again. I began to work out and seriously watch what I ate. I tried Jenny Craig for a month [don’t do it, not worth the money]. Eventually gained control and dropped a few pounds. Then came the dissolution of another relationship and the self-hate was back with a vengeance. Insert break-up. Insert weight loss. Insert uncertainty and other emotional turmoil. Insert a tad bit more of weight loss. And that cycle just keeps on and on and on. Until this week.

I am sick & fucking [sorry for the f bomb, Mom] tired of it. I’m finished.

I had a breakthrough this week and realized for the first time that my battle is not with my weight or the size of my jeans. My issue is my self-image. How I view my body is the problem. And I have a horrible self-image and extremely dependent on others, especially men, to make me feel pretty. I realized it’s literally like I have no ability to do it myself. And that’s some serious bullshit (let’s just call it what it is). After racking my brain and counting calories (or avoiding the app that counts the calories because I was guilty), chastising myself nonstop during every waking hour for one thing or another, and with every bite telling myself I shouldn’t have it I finally discovered that the problem wasn’t what was going in my mouth. The problem is that dialogue inside me telling me all the negative things about myself. It’s the hate that seeps into every bite of food and criticizing the image in the mirror relentlessly until she feels worse about herself than I could ever make anyone else feel. We truly are our own worst enemy.

And so I’m stopping that hate. It is a core belief of mine that anything springing from hate will not be made for the good. If I try to lose weight because I hate myself I’ll surely fail. If I can come from a place of love and feeling good, then more love and feeling better will surely follow. It’s funny how I can apply this philosophy to the way I treat others and the universe in general but it never struck me that as long as I’m angry and disgusted at the image in the mirror I’ll never turn it into something I love. If, however, I can accept me just as I am and love me not in spite of but because I am made uniquely and beautiful no matter what, then I can finally maintain some sort of healthy balance. If I want to love and nurture my body, I think it will love and nurture me right back.

And I wonder if I’m alone. Are other women out there holding themselves to a completely senseless and impossible standard? Are we ever going to look in the mirror and smile no matter what we see? Am I right in saying that I’ll be able to take better care of myself once I learn to love me? According to my universal rule, we get what we give. If I give my body love, my body will love me back. Now, I know there’s a healthy diet and exercise that must come along with it. And I’ve mastered those things before: I gave up soda, french fries, desserts, and candy. I can do that again with no problem. Maybe I’ve been eating more because I refuse to listen to my body fearing what it has to say. I haven’t stopped during a meal to ask, “am I full?” Cutting my portions along with giving up the above items instantly dropped 20 pounds before in my life. But this time I can’t do it because I want back in my jeans or to turn someone on. I must do it because I LOVE ME and because I want the very best of who I am to shine. Because I shine on the inside and my light must come through.

I haven’t figured this all out just yet, but I do believe my reflection has lead to a break through. Anthony Robbins would be so proud. And not until I wrote it all down did I even realize how altered and how outright crazy it is to view myself this way. I would NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS hold another human to the expectations I have for myself. Especially not the ones I love. You know what’s sexy to me Jessica Simpson? The fact you found love and had a baby. Now quit making an ass of yourself in the tabloids and embrace your little one and your man and then rest of the time have a personal trainer come kick your ass. If I had the money, that’s what I would do! If I were Jessica Simpson (and she’s just on my mind because her & her Weight Watchers commercial were the gossip on the radio today), I would be endlessly thankful for the life I get to lead and the baby I get to hold each night. I don’t even like Jessica Simpson…. the love train has gone too far. Just kidding. 😉

So, this weekend I helped my bride-to-be friend by carrying her water, phone, make-up bag, & fanning her during the bridal picture shoot.  During the shoot, I learned of these little papers with powder on them that absorb sweat/oil and powder your face at the same time!  It’s rice paper and apparently I’ve been needing these for years.  The Mississippi humidity is fatal for my makeup.  And I feel so gross sweating!  Ladies, if you too were not aware that this awesome little beauty helper was available run like I did to Sally Beauty and grab some.  I got both the rice paper & powder for less than $10.  There should be a manual with a list of things that all women need to know.  Rice papers need to be on the list.

Aside from that, the next big thing was PartyFest.  I thought it went really well.  I got there early-ish, like 6pm, and so I got to see a chunk of the bands.  And then I just saw chunks.  Unfortunately, I didn’t end the night so well.  Ok, that’s a lie.  Actually, the night ended spectacularly.  And that just struck me right now as I wrote.  The fact is someone showed me they cared by taking care of me.  Unexpectedly.  And I must say, as someone who feels responsible for WAY more than I can handle at my job, it’s really good to know that when a desperate situation occurs I have someone who I can trust to look out for me.   It was a very embarrassing moment for me–I think part of the vomit was humiliation at one point.  I just looked at his shoes because I was too horrified that he had to see me like that.  I couldn’t dare meet his eyes.  But now I realize there’s no greater test than when you’re weak how someone will treat you.  If they make the situation worse, you’re with the wrong person.  If you manage to have some pride left over afterwards–and you even blog about how awesome a caretaker they were–then you should consider that someone to keep around.

Trust is hard for me.  I could give a million excuses but the bottom line is that you can’t hold the people in your present hostage by the people and things done in your past.  And my present is amazing and I’m glad it took so long (over a year!) for me to start to open up.  I’m glad because I got to know him in small bits & pieces.  And it feels natural, not rushed.  I’ve heard love is friendship caught on fire.  Maybe.  I’m not the expert.  I DO know that you can’t have very much love–the kind that lasts anyway–without a solid friendship.  And one thing that really grabs me is that this person is unnaturally trustworthy.  Once it hit me that I was dating one of the most honest and trustworthy individuals on the planet, my “trust issues” evaporated.  In fact, it made me want to open up and, looking back, I slowly started drifting from my usual jokes and puns to things that resemble feelings [yes, people, I have those].

I hadn’t necessarily made the connection that I’d managed all this until I saw a photo today.  Someone took it Saturday, you know, before the party train crashed.  And either I didn’t know the pic was being taken or I was not counting to three as quickly as the photographer because basically the pic comes out with him looking at the camera and me unabashedly giving THE BIGGEST puppy dog stare one can imagine at him.  Everything I have felt or thought is captured in that instant.  Like, it took me for a spin because honestly I didn’t know I COULD give that look.  I sure as heck never planned on being that obvious.  You would have to give me the best director in the world to pry that look out again.  I think.  I dunno.  Now I kinda wonder if I look like that all the time?!  Geez, I thought I was so cool.  People think they got game? Ha. Welcome to the game baby, I’m the coach!  Now, I think I need to resign.  Anyway, that pic made me aware that not only is there something there, I haven’t hid it nearly as well as I’d thought.  I might puke again just from embarrassment… And NO I’m not posting it!

As usual, there will be nothing mind-blowing or world changing in this blog. In fact, I’m sad to say it’s nothing more than a “blahg”. I’m certain I couldn’t have been the first to coin that term but I high-fived myself anyway.

It’s been a good week to be me. I’m having an especially awesome hair night. Ok, that’s probably the most boring start to a blog in my history. Truth is, it’s all I can do to avoid a certain subject. You know that feeling when you’re so happy you feel like you’re about to burst? Well, I live there now. It’s kinda my new hood. Things are going good on all fronts. But, let’s be real, it wouldn’t be Apryl.me if I weren’t overthinking things.

Truth is, I have developed a mistrust of happiness where others are concerned. That’s incredibly sad & honestly a little whiney sounding. I didn’t even know I could be that Emo. I don’t think it’s complete mistrust—it’s more of a reverential treatment of happiness. Life has taught me that things can be not always what they seem. And my feelings aren’t always on target. Well, let’s reanalyze that. I think my feelings are always on target. I mean, they’re feelings—not scientific facts–and even though they aren’t right or wrong, they can be justified and unjustified I suppose. I guess as I get older I’m more likely to analyze things again & again before settling on and getting comfortable with how I feel.

I’m female and I feel a LOT. I don’t want to cause a controversy but I think our hormones really do make us have more intense feelings than guys. Or maybe we just weigh our feelings differently. So, while I’m about to burst with joy, I am trying to maintain some dignity. Like, I always tell myself “Just. Be. Cool. Don’t be a fool!” It works I think. Mostly.

See, I’m afraid if I mention anything it will jinx it! Which—now that I write that down–just kinda goes to show that I am a little untrusting. I am afraid if I show too much, it will only serve to hurt to me. I think the part of me who wants to act with good judgment should be cheered. But I also think part of me is a little wounded and needs to heal so that I can release the things inside that I do not need. I don’t need to carry baggage from my past with me into the future. Luckily, I learn more everyday that I don’t need those things. The jealousy, mistrust, disdain, and fear I carried for so long aren’t even allowed on this journey. Like, if this is an airplane, those are prohibited cargo. Not even in checked baggage, homey. It’s a relief and I’m happy to let them go. The happiness that fills me instead is much more welcome. And let’s face it, do I want to end up a bitter old lady? Hellz to the no!

So, as always, through the course of this blog I’ve found some insight into myself. I clearly see through some of my metaphors that I have been afraid and somewhat hidden. Screw that. It doesn’t suit me at all. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world and I see no reason not to cheer me on & just go with that. The people in your present are not the ones you left behind.

I hate all those “motivational” photos on FB that encourage you to somehow pull a lesson from your past and not let it happen in your future. Whatever—people are people and you’re gonna have disappointment. But not all the lessons you learned apply to the people you are with today so stop punishing them!! If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that you have to just be YOU. You don’t control anyone else. Yes, some guy or some girl is probably gonna shit on you again just like someone else did. And every relationship ends with someone leaving—either they go alive (50% divorce rate) or one of you die. Facts, kids. However, if you gained some insight into yourself that creates more peace & happiness then don’t surrender that. Keep that part of the lesson. Like the 99 red balloons, my negativity goes bye…. “I think of you & let it go”