2018 Goals

I’m a sucker for a fresh start and the feeling of something new.

…A new week, a new day, a new year.

…A new pair of shoes, a new handbag, a new planner.

…A new haircut.

Something about it makes me think that what’s in the past is in the past, and anything that happens from here on out can only get better.

With a new year, many people make resolutions. But, statistics show many don’t follow through with them. And those that do only last a few weeks.

I tend to get overambitious at the beginning of the year and commit to a complete life shift, only to end up disappointed that I didn’t stick with anything at all.

So, for this year, I’m setting more attainable goals.

+ Get active at least 5 times a week. Whether it’s a Jazzercise class, working with a Beachbody program, or taking Elphie for a long walk.

+ Serve at church at least 3x per month, and join a small group. I won't go into too much yet about my spirituality, but I will tell you that it saved me from a great depression and has really changed my life.

+ Increase engagement and accountability both with my blog and my business. I have the world at my fingertips thanks to social media and technology, but alas I find excuses to not grasp it.

I’m on a big journey this year to transform my health and energy. So, I’m starting the year following the Whole30 meal guidelines.

Today marks Day 4, and although I can’t tell you it’s a walk in the park, it’s also not as bad as I expected. I’ll share a weekly update, as well as what I ate, with you all so you can follow along.

Did you guys set resolutions or goals for the year?

The Butterfly Year

Hello Friends! And Happy 2018!

I used some vacation time during the final week of December to wrap up 2017 and prepare myself for the New Year. I prepped a to-do list; brought home some work items that I needed quiet time to focus on, and had every intention of making my time off productive. 

First thing on my list was to re-launch “my blog.” I put that in quotes because I’ve always thought of Glamorous Hustle as my blog. After all, we spent four lovely years together. But, this new blog is still something I’m working on turning into mine. 

Anyway, back to the point…

Instead of being productive, my week was filled with catching up on sleep, watching movies on Amazon Prime, and drinking too much vino.

But alas, New Year = New You. Am I right? 

I really missed sharing. Sitting down and hitting the keys and just getting out whatever is on my mind.

Some call me an over sharer, but truthfully it’s my therapy. For me, it’s better than therapy. Trust me, I tried that ‘ish and it just isn’t for me.

So, what’s on the agenda for 2018? I’m calling it my “Butterfly Year.”

The last two years did a number on me.

…I ended a long relationship

…I lost my Dad to cancer

…I fought a dark depression (and am still fighting it)

…I started to focus on my health and healthier choices (also failed a few times with it)

…I ended friendships and made new ones

…I learned a lot about myself

This blog is going to be my way of holding myself accountable to goals and plans. A way for me to share the highs and the lows in hopes of celebrating with you all and showing you that if you’re going through the same thing (or similar), you’re not alone. 

And of course, we’ll hopefully have some laughs together. 

So, cheers to the new year – the Butterfly Year – and to making memories together (virtually)!

Mud

Well, February sure snuck up on me! I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks that either. I’ve had all these hopes of doing a better job of planning out blog posts and delivering you guys more content, but I’ve come to realize that it makes more sense to type when I have something to share instead of it being forced.

And today, I have something to share.

I have found a church.

I had a lot on my plate while my Dad was sick. I became:

• A case manager for him and his health
• A financial advisor to ensure his bills were paid
• A reporter who shared his journey with family and friends
• A confidant who listened to his ups and downs without judgment and in total secrecy

I also ended a tumultuous relationship and relocated myself and my dog.

To say I had a lot on my plate was an understatement, and although the plate is not overflowing any longer it’s still pretty full.

I was searching for something. I didn’t know what it was but I needed something in my life that was bigger than me.

I found it. Oh boy did I find it.

I started going to a local church – not a traditional one by any means, but more of a modern life coach-type of church that has completely rocked my world.

I’m not going to get all Godly on you. That’s just not my style. But I do have to share something that really hit home for me this morning.

At the close of each Sunday, they put the day’s service in podcast form for those who were unable to attend in-person. So, I’ve been catching up on some previous topics during my work week commute.

Today’s was about Jesus helping a blind man to see.

A blind man approached Jesus and his disciples. He’s been blind since birth. Immediately, the thoughts came about as to whose fault it was that the man could not see. Who sinned so bad that his eyesight was taken from me. 

In other words, what did I do so wrong in life that I had to watch my father die (and continue to replay him coding in that oncologist office. Every. Day.) and lost someone I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with? What one action or event can I point blame on for all that bad things that happened to me in 2017?

Jesus spits in the dirt and turned it to mud, then wiped it on the man’s eyes and told him to go wash up (this is the Cliffs Notes version folks). In turn, he was able to see. 

In other words, I drowned last year. It felt like I played one of those dizzy games where you chug a beer and then spin, head-down on top of a baseball bat and try to run in a straight line. That’s literally what my year felt like.

My sight was taken from me. My hope. My grace. My motivation. My ambition. I was literally blind to everything. The mud piled on and piled on and I began to gain hope that things would eventually turn around.

I’m not saying I’ve cleaned yet. The mud is still there, at times thicker than others, but I finally feel like the water is turned on and the soap is in reach.

2016 was a tough one. I’ve said it many times and I’ll continue to say it. But, it’s turning out that 2017 is tough for others – and unfortunately, we’re not even through the first quarter of the year.

Church is it for me. It’s the healing that I’ve been searching for and the guidance that I’ve so desperately be craving. But, it’s not for everyone.

Find your thing. Research, Google search, ask around, call up doctors – do whatever you need to in order to find your thing.

Just don’t give up. 

There is a light at the end of the tunnel. And when you finally see it, it’ll be worth the wait.

Dear Grief...

Dear Grief,

You are weird. You’re like the new kid in school that I so desperately want to help. I want to make you feel comfortable in your new digs and help my friends and family find out what you’re all about, but I also want to keep you at arm’s length because I just don’t understand you.

You’re confusing.

You make me laugh and smile sometimes, and at other times it feels like you are literally trying to take my heart out with your tiny little hands – while laughing, you’re always laughing.

You show up at the most inconvenient times, totally uninvited, and act as though the party is completely for you. It’s not. It’s not about you. It’s about ME! This is my life and you’re totally ruining it.

And the worst part of this whole thing is I invited you a number of times and you no-showed.

I invited you to come hang when my Dad was first diagnosed.

I invited you to come when I ended my relationship.

I invited you to come when my Dad passed.

And you kept turning me down. You were too busy washing your hair or something like that – I forget what excuse you gave me.

It wasn’t until I was starting to be ok with the fact that you had written me off that you ended up not only showing up, but bringing your whole damn family. Like, you didn’t even ask if that was ok!

You’ve definitely overstayed your welcome in the short time I’ve known you, but in some weird way I have a feeling we’ll be lifelong acquaintances.

I hope you caught that. You’re an acquaintance. I’ll never consider you a friend.

I wish I never met you. I wish I never introduced you to my friends and family. I wish you never moved to my neck of the woods.

I’m not sure who I dislike more – you or cancer – but in some weird way, you guys are similar. You too taught me something very important.

You taught me that my heart is capable of more than I ever could have imagined. That I can (and do) love greatly. That the people in my life mean more to me than I’ll ever realize until they are gone. And that I am a human with real emotions who hurts just like everyone else.

You taught me that I can’t control everything and I can’t keep you from visiting my loved ones.

If I fund the trip, do you think you and cancer can take a long drive off a short cliff? I’ll even buy the car…

Dear Cancer...

Dear Cancer,

Fuck you. 

I’d say pardon my French but at this point the last time I’m worried about is offending you.

You took him from me and that is an act I’ll ever forgive you for, or ever be OK with.

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts when I see his face in that chair, struggling to breathe. My heart hurts when I see the pain on my sisters’ faces.

My heart hurts when I see wedding photos of friends with their fathers and remind myself I’ll never have that.

You showed up at the worst time. Not that there ever really is a good time for you to arrive. You were the driving wrench in an already-weak point in my life that shattered the perfect bubble I was so comfy in.

You laughed in my face when I told everyone he was doing better. You made me look like a liar and you took him anyway.

I hate you. I mean that with my entire heart and my entire being. I hate you.

And at the same time, you taught me an incredible lesson.

You took pity on me and gave me 4 more months to make amends; to selfishly attempt to make up for lost time. It still wasn't enough time. No amount of time could have been enough though.

You taught me that life is precious and family is everything – even when they say things that leave scars on the heart.

You toughened me up a little bit. Not necessarily in a good way, but not all bad either. I did things over second half of this year that I didn't think I was capable of. I surprised myself. I did really hard things. 

I’ll never be ok with you. I’ll never like you. I’ll never thank you. And I’ll never wish you upon anyone else for as long as I shall live.

If I never hear from you again it’d be too soon.

Thankful

November is a time for thanks. Always has been and always will be. But using the Thanksgiving holiday to share what I’m thankful for just didn’t seem right to me. 

I’m thankful that my Dad and I were able to mend years of a rocky relationship in 4 months, but I wish I had more time to fix things. 

I’m thankful that I ended a relationship that was more toxic than loving, but I wish I had the guts to do it months prior to when I actually did. 

I’m thankful that my Mom and Stepdad took me into their home during the worst few months of the worst time of my life, but regretful that I’m not standing on my own two feet at age 31 years with a pup tagging along. 

2016 has not been a fun one for me. But, it was sure a year of growth.

For as long as I can remember I’ve been focused on other people. Making sure others had what they needed to feel secure, to feel happy, and to feel whole. And in doing that, I’ve allowed myself to get to a point where I feel battered, bruised, and broken. 

Ok, maybe that’s a bit harsh. But, I finally see that it’s ok to be selfish and to focus all of your time and energy on yourself. 

After all, who else is going to love you like you love you? 

December will be a time of change. It will be the one month in year of 2016 where I live my life the way I want to live it, with whoever makes my soul sing and my face hurt from laughing. It will be a month where I focus on my health and the balance between good for me and bad for me. And it will be a month where I look 2016 in the face and give it the finger, shouting from the rooftops that I’m not messin’ around anymore. 

2017 though, that’s going to be the year of big change. That’s going to be the year that shit gets real. 

Visions will be defined. Action steps will be put in place. Goals will be reached. And I will allow myself to be completely happy with no strings attached. 

To just be. 

I’m not going to go into it too much now, but I’m accepting my grief. The fact that I am human enough to have loved as much as I did/do and to feel this pain in my heart speaks wonders to me. The human body is an incredible thing, and emotions truly do wonders to your body – both in a positive and a negative sense. 

I have so much to share on my experiences throughout this year, and specifically the last few months. I am so thankful and grateful that you guys still come here to read my thoughts. And I do hope you stick around, because there is much more coming. 

Grief

Grief sucks. 

I always knew that and expected it. People who have gone through it before tried to help me prepare for it.  But living it is a whole other ball game.

September 30 my Dad died. I watched it happen. It was an out of body experience that I relive every time I close my eyes. I’m not going into detail because I wouldn’t be able to do him any justice by sharing the worst moment of everyone’s life. And I don’t have the mental capacity to share all of the amazing things about him.

Just know that if I ever get married, my husband has some crazy big shoes to fill. Because James Muller was one hell of a man.

Grief. It’s like that gas bubble that sits in the middle of your chest. You feel it every time you take a sip of your drink, or swallow a bite of food. You feel it in that moment when your crazy day stops and you can take a breath, or when your mind starts to wander during your commute to/from work.

It. Doesn’t. Go. Away.

I’m stuck between two things. 1) The thought that I have to cry all day to mourn his passing and pay respect to him the way he deserves and 2) The thought that he’d HATE that and want me to carry on with my day and my life, focusing on work and getting my life back together.

I’m a Type-A personality. I like things organized, planned out, and crave routine. I like stability.

In 2 months I’ve had my routine upturned twice, my heart broken twice, and have not gotten the chance to grieve either life experience OR create a new routine.

And it’s messing with me.

A friend of mine the other day said to focus on the things that make me happy. So, my Type A personality planned out the next 2 months of my life so I can, in a way, make appointments for the things I enjoy.

My workouts are planned out by the time I’m going to do them. My food is planned out by the hour that I’ll eat it. And I’m in the process of working out some blog posts to get back to sharing things with you guys.

Some people find it odd that I put things out there so publicly. But, it’s therapeutic. Even this post. For days I’ve had it in my head – what I wanted so hare. And I was avoiding sitting down and hitting the keys. But once those fingers start moving, free therapy starts flowing.

I can’t promise the next 2 months will be filled with rainbows and butterflies, but I can promise that big change is going to happen for me. I’m both excited and scared for it, but the time has come to say goodbye and I’ve got to get started on my next chapter.

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If you’re still here, thanks for reading. And thank you in advance for keeping me and my family in your prayers as we trudge through this stage of grief.