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Coffee Pot

Pot and Coffee

The smell of coffee brewing in the morning is probably one of my top 5 favorite smells. Something about it is comforting. Coffee and oatmeal cookies is what you'd smell every morning on Catalina Island. You couldn't pass up walking into The Cookie Company once that smell hit you.  

Hopefully by now, you've read my rendition of what I considered my midlife crisis. If you haven't,  short recap: Extensive, 10 year long emotionally and physically abusive relationship, leads to extreme hair choices and reinventing of self. 

I'm sure they're are some wondering how someone young can have a "mid-life crisis." The more I thought about it, the more I realized I'm really not young. I am at mid-life. I'll be hitting 30 in February. I have a variety of health issues and highly doubt I hit 60. So mid-life seems appropriate.

I think the misconception is the idea that it's a crisis at all. The situation that led to my choices was a crisis. Not the steps I took to rediscover myself. That was a journey. 

I spent a third of my life in a sociopathic, violent, and psychologically taxing environment. The father of my kids is no peach. 

I happen to be one of those people that thinks everything happens for a reason. There is fate. I think coincidences are rare. The people we find, and experiences we have are meant to shape us in a specific way. I'm in no means religious. I do not pray or worship anything. I just think there's a magnetic pull that kind of guides us all.

I'm pretty sure I spent so much time in chaos so that I could fully appreciate the man in my life now. He's everything I didn't know I needed. (I should side-note. I spent nearly 2 years rediscovering myself ALONE before allowing the opportunity for a relationship.) 

I've never really talked about the privacy of situations I was going through. Very, very few people knew about how intense the situation was. It wasn't something that started slow. He was a jerk from the beginning. I was young when we got together, and he convinced me I was nothing not long after getting me pregnant at 18.

One of the most pathetic things I remember was a friend had to come and get my daughter, just so another could take me to the hospital because I needed stitches in my face, again... It still took me around 4 years after that to leave. I should've left the very first time he spit in my face and told me he owned me... As women, we have a tendency to be completely naive when it comes to how we should be treated. 

Lemme tell you something. There is nothing more intimidating than a woman who finds herself again, who remembers her worth. 

My "mid-life crisis" saved me. Going crazy saved me. A few really good friends saved me. Not to mention a pretty intense period of self destruction.

It took me 10 years to get away from that situation. Don't wait that long. Don't justify the subtle remarks that are actually emotional abuse, and if they put their hands on you, don't for a second let them convince you it was your doing.

I never believed that relationships were different, that's probably why I was stuck so long. I grew up in a violent household. I clearly remember my mother being drug across the floor by her hair...

IT'S NOT NORMAL.

There's something so much better. You WILL find it.

Enough heavy for this morning. Back to the coffee and tree. ☕💨 

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