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Barefoot, Brave, and Bold, Beloit, KS (2025)

12/19/2025

Some of you are facing a different Christmas (for those who celebrate, which I believe are most of my readers). First Christmas without a loved one. First Christmas after separation/ divorce. Another Christmas where issues in the family STILL aren’t resolved… you thought would be by now. A health issue, right in the middle of festivities.

I know too that not all my readers are faith-based… but many are.

Come as you are to this Christmas. Come as you can…. And take other moments to cry alone if you need to. Come, knowing that many will look like they are filled with joy…. “look like” being the operative words. Come, knowing others wrestle with these December days also.

For numerous years, my Christmases all looked pretty much the same… Christmas Eve as a nuclear family with carefully chosen gifts for my sons, especially. Christmas Day with my little family, my parents, sister and nieces. In one year, with one death… ALL of that ended (as far as Christmas Day). There was contentment in that familiarity and in less than 30 days, the possibility of that gathering imploded . I’ve made peace with all that loss. What a simple sentence. Makes it sound like it was easy. Putting away the old is rarely a tranquil process… and it wasn’t for me.

And then, after my dad’s death, a divorce and new beginnings…. I’ve navigated a decade of Thanksgivings and Christmases that looked unrecognizable compared to the past. I’ve spent them: with my ex (once, and quite awkward), at a community dinner, at my son’s in-laws’ home, home alone, with friends, and in recent years with my significant other’s large welcoming family. I’ve still been blessed with Christmas Eves spent with my sons/ grands.

For many, I imagine these holidays as the most joyful… and the most heartbreaking days of the year, depending upon the year and situation.

So…Come as you are. May you be met with a force of love, if only enough to dry the tears.

12/18/2025

Looking out the big picture window of our living room, he said haughtily, “must be nice to have the money to go out and buy a new John Deere mower.” He was watching the neighbor buzz around the yard on his new JD. We weren’t poor… and in fact, we’d bought more than one new John Deere mower over the years. I mean, we probably had to PLAN for the purchase, and maybe the neighbor didn’t…. But then again, maybe he did.

This was the person I lived with that the rest of the world (well, our town, anyway) never saw. I witnessed the jealousy, the irritation with other’s good fortune. I got pulled in to the negativity. Those outside, heard other stories… good guy stories, upbeat stories. I had the only ears that had to listen to how unfair things were… everything. It wasn’t the way I processed life. But the veil of constant comparison and anger pulled me down, into deep depression. It wasn’t just that gloomy view alone that sucked me down into the mud, but it was the realization that someone was being told a lie… either all those people “in town”…. or me. It couldn’t be both awfully inequitable AND wonderfully favorable. Who was being gaslit!? Them? Or me? I got to listen to the tragedy and horror stories… and they got to hear the fairytales and prose. My years of depression were rooted in this misfit dichotomy that I couldn’t escape… not yet, anyway. It was my daily reality.

In the divorce, I skipped out on the big fights for the division of property. I chose not to go after his pension (while he lives; I will get 1/2 of it monthly upon his death). I made him a great deal on the house. I accepted, as part of my “share,” a property neither of us wanted, but I willingly took it as part of my distribution… and the “situations” it created. I left well over 3/4 of the home contents including almost all the furniture. I wanted freedom from the source of my depression more than I wanted stuff/ money.

Today he lives in (but doesn’t own, I understand) a lovely home worth at least 6 times my home. He’s taken lots of trips. I’ve taken a few. Drives new cars… mine’s 8 years old… but low mileage. I hope he finally feels like things are “fair” for him now. And I mean that.

Me? Things are fair (and beyond) because I have a good and peaceful life…I love my little cozy home. I have no need what-so-ever for bigger or “better.” I see my grand girls 5-6 days a week and am steeped in their lives. I make my money stretch, sometimes with some sacrifice… oh well. I’m depression free after a few years of arduous healing. I’m healthy… just had great labs at recent Dr. appointment. Even though I didn’t expect my finances to be stretched in my later years (due to the life we’d created financially), things change. I have everything that matters.

The great gift of my journey is to be happy with what I have… and to enjoy a healed mind, free from another’s disgust for his lot in life.

12/17/2025

Toward the end of my marriage, my then-husband asked me several times to renew our marriage vows. Sounds lovely, right? If you’ve done that and it was meaningful to you, please don’t hear judgment in my words, as I truly intend none.

I declined each time. I didn’t need or want “renewed” vows. I only wanted the original ones… fulfilled. I wanted the love, honor, cherish…. And they had all been missing for at least 9/10’s of the marriage. To be 100% candid, by the time he started asking, I didn’t really even care any longer about him honoring those long ago vows. I’d wanted that BEFORE. For the first 20 years I wanted that. I would have likely responded favorably if those vows had been truly honored during the next 5 years, post-20 years. But the last 5 years… all I wanted/ needed was out.

The damage was no longer repairable… at least not from within the relationship. If he couldn’t meet the intent of the vows for 25 years, why would I think that speaking them again would mend anything? I was actually insulted by the request to renew vows. To me, it was just an additional layer of entrapment. What would we even be renewing??? Promises that weren’t kept? Gee, how unappealing.

Now, I’m extremely glad I didn’t fall for the manipulation behind those requests. I think he knew it would just heap greater sense of failure and shame onto me. At any point, on any day during 9133 days of marriage (the first 25 yr/ I stayed 5 additional years), the dynamics could have been changed and vows fulfilled, not with perfection but with stability, tenderness and comfort. That didn’t occur.

I did ask one final time, the day after my dad died… it was late 2014 (I left late 2017, for context)… I said, “it’s so obvious… life is short. Can we try harder to get this right?” We. There was no “we” trying. I barely even got an ounce of comfort in that time of my dad’s sudden death. And I knew… no more watering dead flowers.

12/16/2025

If you have felt that you somehow “wasted” many years with a man who didn’t love you properly…. Please keep reading.

Something I realized in healing is that the years of marital unhappiness (nearly all of them) weren’t unhappy in other ways…. And I want to honor that. I needed to reclaim those years, in spite of the ugliest parts of them. In my healing, I had to admit that the marriage was a sham, but my LIFE then was definitely not a sham during those terrible marital years.

**Even the ones that were like violent storms in every way (roughly 2013-2017), deserve gratitude, if nothing else, for survival.***

The day I learned of my first pregnancy, after years of infertility… that was the beginning of a type of fulfillment I’d never know another way. Adding a second baby boy less than 2 years later… well, those two events alone, could have been the only good of my life…. And it would have been “enough.” For me, motherhood, was my meaning in life.

***Even in the midst of the barrage of offense (of marital nit-picking) , joy can arrive.***

My career was tremendously fulfilling. Each job I had, led interestingly to the next… and they kept getting better. Launching my own training/ consulting business, when my kids were young was the pinnacle career choice for me… I could work 6-8 days a month doing what I was made to do professionally … and still be home with kids many more days than a traditional career would allow.

***Even in the midst of wanting (my spouse to value me), contentment can bless.***

Early in the marriage and again toward the end, my ex was very jealous of my friendships. Oddly, in the middle years, he didn’t interfere with them or attempt to deter them. And I had friendships resembling sisterhood much of that time.

***Even in the midst of lack (of marital affection), others came to love me well.***

All this to say… my married years (and probably yours) were NOT a waste. I initially felt they were… 30 years down the drain. But some of my crowns of purpose came in those same years. My marriage lacked, but I filled in a lot of the spaces with heart-exploding endearment… for my babies, my class attendees, my friends. Perspective matters. It matters a lot. In this case, it’s the difference between seeing 30 years as a wasteland, or 30 years as me, wrapped in a blanket of accomplishment, friendship, and motherhood. Please, let yourself be wrapped in the warmth of the superb… in spite of what was missing.

12/15/2025

By now, if you’ve read much of what I write, you know that I have a highly contemplative side. I’m pretty serious and could easily be called an “over-thinker,” except I really LIKE thinking deeply so it doesn’t feel overdone to me at all.

But I really do have other sides. I love humor. When I made my living as a speaker (20+ years), I told all kinds of funny stories. They came from real life… and real life is pretty funny if you look for it.

And I love whimsey… and colors… speaking of something being “overdone,” I could become an eclectic color queen so easily. For a while I was going to paint chairs like the ones in these photos. I don’t know what I’d have done with them, but man, they make me happy. I didn’t ever get around to it, but I still love my many pictures of chair in exploded colors.

I’m a complete sucker for sweet stories… “The Good News Girl,” and “We Rate Dogs” tickle me and also, open my water works. Check them out online. Bring tissues and your funny bone, esp for the Rate Dogs stories.

Life is rich. It is oozing with joy and color and words and pets and people. Let’s not miss any of it. Feel it all. Deeply!

12/14/2025

This is an old post that I ran across which i’d posted in a group. So it is a “copy and paste.” The second paragraph was just something that was inferiating at the time, but actually makes me laugh now… at the absurdity of it. It has to do with a birth story, so if that’s TMI, skip past. It happened in real life, unlike the first paragraph, which was a dream. 🙄😂

*****

After being divorced 5 years…. for some weird reason I had a dream about ex. Very rare. Woke up soooo frustrated. It was simple… we were doing something utilitarian with a wagon… and he put the wagon up on a shaky, uneven platform…. No blocks…. Just a wagon rolling around precariously on a platform, me trying to keep it from rolling off. That incident didn’t ever happen but crazy how my brain still remembers… if anything could be made harder, he did exactly that! Anything that requires logic, he would do the opposite. That’s what our whole marriage was like, esp the later years. Me, trying to keep catastrophes from occurring from the “nonsense” stuff he did.

This is the same man, who, when I was PUSHING out our first child, started yelling, “pull, pull” because a nurse had told me to pull up on the bed rail while I pushed baby out. If you’ve ever given birth, you know what a disconnect it would be during active birthing, to be told to pull. My mind could not hear “pull” and do “pushing” simultaneously. Story of my life with him. 😂😂.

So glad the dream was not real and I didn’t wake up actually married to him!!

12/13/2025

This is a “tell on myself” post. First of all, “violence” doesn’t always mean they put hands on you. Violence is when their words, actions, habits create angst in you. I was always “on guard” for at least the last decade of my marriage… and years past that.

After being divorced a couple years, I decided to try internet dating… I’ve written about it in the past… what a debacle! One fellow lived 90 miles away. We had a first date close to my home (where both of our cars got totaled by a hail storm while we ate our meal 🙄). For the second date, I drove to his town, which also happened to be my hometown, where I attended jr/ sr High.

We met at the local Mexican restaurant and as we were invited to our seats, he did what many gentlemen do…. He lightly placed his hand close to my lower back as a “guide.” Not being handsy, just polite. Ladies, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I was so hyper-vigilant, always waiting for a scare, a nasty exchange, a man angry with me…. My nervous system was still very off-balance.

Yes, I was embarrassed and I didn’t explain myself to him, though my “jumpiness” was painfully noticeable. I had years more work to do to retrain my body and mind… and yes, I gave up internet dating and just concentrated on healing without dating pressure. I’m no longer jumpy, but if you are, even years later… give yourself time and kindness. And use situations like I described as “information” (about healing still needed), not condemnation.

12/12/2025

Recently, I’ve realized that I have “felt healed” (maybe not 100%, but much more healed than not) for years but one doesn’t really know the quality of that healing unless it is tested.

Do I react/ respond differently to triggers?
Do I give grace and really look at intentions?
Do I over-use or under-use self protection?
Do I honor myself and others?

One thing that will test our healing is a new relationship. Mine is kinda past “new” (3+ years) but really, in just the last year I’ve had some of the tests. As we’ve “settled in” more and also had to deal with serious injury early in the year, I’ve had to let the light shine on some of my healing… and even “lack of healing.”

He is VERY different than my ex (but has a couple things that are similar too) and VERY different than me! He’s cold. I’m hot. He’s a keeper. I’m a tosser. He pays attention to details. I look at the big picture and sometimes blow off details. There’s more… lots more, but it’s in the differences are, where the tests are. Can I accept my healing enough to let him be who he is, lovingly, without betraying myself? It’s easier said than done. But most of the time, we’re pretty harmonious. There was NO 3-year period in my marriage that wasn’t like being on a small boat on a vast, angry ocean… heck, there was only ever one year that wasn’t like that (the year after our oldest was born)… the other 29…. The little boat was getting beaten and battered in the waves most days. So yeah, my healing is serving me well. And, I realize… perfect harmony in relationships doesn’t exist.

I’m in another situation that tests me too. One where I have to look at the behaviors and be brutally honest. This is a relationship I value highly and in order to not betray my growth, I have to do really hard things. I have to avoid reacting from fear, angst and past trauma. I have to accept that love doesn’t fix. I have to allow myself to be sad without falling into despair. I have to lovingly release. To love, from a distance. With this test, I’m doing well for now. How do I know? I’m at peace, in spite of how hard it is. ♥️

12/11/2025

I recently successfully retrained my dog. Moose is 12 and weighs 90 very round pounds. For years, I let him out into the back yard to do his business and to hang out.

Then….. Riley, a wirey, gangly, crazy puppy, with limbs like a daddy-long-legs…. started spending his days in my back yard. He was my son’s dog and he was lonely while my son worked so he stayed inside my fence. Moose was absolutely traumatized by the puppy- energy. He refused to go out back with Riley.

I began to walk him for his outside time. When Riley quit coming over (thankfully), I had a new storm door installed, full glass. Moose had returned reluctantly to the back yard for a couple weeks when, not realizing the door was clear, he plowed into it as he thought he was barreling inside. This was too much. Not only had his back yard been occupied by a demon dog for months…. But now there were imaginary barriers keeping him hostage in the yard. He was DONE. No more back yard for Moose. Non-negotiable… and i couldnt begin to carry him forcibly.

For outside time, I tied him up in the front… and he wrapped the tie around the bushes and rocks… Every. Single. Time. More months. More frustration for both of us.

Winter just arrived (with ice on the porch in front of the house) and I was desperate. I had to get him to go out back. Savory food didn’t lure him. Making it sound like a grand adventure ticked him off and he’d flop to the floor and go, “hmph.” So I used the catch mechanism and propped the door open… all he had to do was walk through. For days, cold air invaded my house much of the day, with a gaping open set of doors… while Moose considered the situation. Finally, he walked through. I left it open so he wouldn’t feel trapped and he returned shortly. For 3 days, we did that routine. Then… amazingly, he scratched the closed BACK door to go out… his idea. It’s been smooth sailing since, for several days.

I’m not a dog, but maybe I’m not so much different. Maybe, after life traumatized me, I needed someone to give me a clear space to walk through, some time (without being rushed), and my own thoughts to consider my options. Maybe I could do that for myself to heal my trauma?? Give myself some breathing room with a little path. Avoid rushing. Think about it…. Then try it out. You know, I think that’s just what I did a few years ago. Now Moose is having fun in the back yard. And I’m living a contented life. We did it, Moose! We did it!

12/10/2025

♥️ truly, new beginnings, born from aching, are the best kind of beginnings.♥️

12/10/2025

Generally, I hunt down memes to add to whatever I write. This time the meme does the heavy lifting and I’m writing from it.

I find it so sad, that these toxic men set up situations where we have to scrutinize, even HOPE. It describes so perfectly how the trauma bond is formed and how they manipulate us, even for years. Hope is supposed to be a beautiful thing that shores us up. But with toxic people, “hope” will keep us hostage. It will tempt us to hang on to a relationship that we imagine and long for, but they have no intention to deliver.

And there’s more…. They corrupt “kindness” too… because when they use it, it’s a tactic, not a gift. It’s their breadcrumbs, the minute bit they’ll give us to reel us back in or hang on to us.

“That’s how the bar gets dragged straight to hell.” This is supposed to be a bond, a relationship built on love, trust and common goals. Instead, it becomes us, begging for anything resembling affection. We deserve so much more. Just as a human, let alone a wife…. We deserve more.

So… to move on we have to do what goes against our nature…. We have to let go of “hope” and the desire for “kindness”…. From that person, not from everyone, but from him. This isn’t natural and it isn’t what many of us were taught about marriage. That’s why it’s so hard. But it is possible… and that’s where your emotional freedom lies.

12/10/2025

Today, I wanted to write about “crying.” Are you a cryer? Do you push it back or let it flow? Or do you even have control over it? I put it off writing about it (rare for me) and then this pictured quote about crying came through my feed.

When I was deeply depressed, I couldn’t control it. I was nearly always crying when I was in church. Just ask my friend, Joni, who almost always caught me crying. I cried in the car, the grocery store, my house, and pretty much anywhere, anytime. I wanted to hold the tears in but they wouldn’t stay, so sometimes I did stay home due to the embarrassment.

Once my healing came, my tears became much less frequent. Then I went through a phase when I could control my crying more easily…. But I was afraid to cry at all… because when it started years earlier… it just never seemed to stop. I feared that again… until I realized that the healing process included a lot more control over my emotions. As my nervous system healed, I knew what to do with the harder feelings.

Ceremony… never would have thought of that word… but yes, it was ceremonial to acknowledge the depth of brokenness and to let the stories express themselves.

Barefoot, Brave, and Bold

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