categorically kate

Category: laugh more

  • A Very Normal Christmas

    A Very Normal Christmas

    What is a ‘normal’ Christmas anyways?

    Perhaps 2018 was my last ‘normal’ Christmas. My daughter was 3 that year. We baked cookies. We sat out the empty bag for Santa. I rocked her to sleep. Santa brought her a dollhouse – custom painted to look like OUR house. Funny how talented that Santa bloke is. I made my from-scratch cinnamon rolls the next morning and ate them with my husband as we watched our daughter delight in the general merriment.

    In contrast, 2019 was anything but normal. My husband had left me in July, so we split our daughter’s Christmas day in two King Solomon style. He handed me a bottle of red in a holiday bag when he picked her up at noon. I was bitter and hurt so I refused the gesture, closed the door behind them, and cried.

    My luck (nor anyone’s) improved in 2020. My first ever Christmas Eve and morning in a new-to me home was spent alone. Without my daughter. Without anyone. There was a pandemic. Family remained unvaccinated. Madness, chaos, and despair seem to rule the day. I cried all of Christmas Eve and most of Christmas morning; but my girl came home at noon. She helped me find my smile because despite it all, she still was able to delight in the general merriment of it all.

    On Christmas Eve in 2021, my neighbor got drunk and told me that my ex-husband had never loved me. Why else would he have left me? Stung is an understatement. Surely, that will never count as normal. But I tried. I baked cinnamon rolls but my daughter wouldn’t eat them. And then at noon the dreaded switch-over came. I had pre-planned though and promptly departed for the airport to escape the loneliness. I visited my best friend in Portland. She broke my heart two weeks later; and perhaps I broke hers. Nevertheless, I cried that year.

    I didn’t bake my from-scratch rolls in 2022. In fact, I didn’t do much of anything in 2022 to be honest; unless you count surviving. I think surviving is supposed to count. It was a lonely Christmas Eve. A quiet Christmas morning. And though my heart lightened somewhat when my baby came home, I couldn’t shake the heaviness and a post-Christmas day trip to see my extended family somehow left me lonelier, and with more tears, than before. I refuse to believe that 2022 was my new normal.

    But I could see this year being a real contender for my new normal. By most accounts, it was a wonderful (half) holiday. Despite my hectic work schedule, my now 8-year old daughter and I delighted in each other’s company for the first 10 days of the break. We laughed. We played. We talked. And then last night (Christmas Eve), we watched The Muppet’s Christmas Carol and made cookies that didn’t look like cookies and made last minute preparations for Santa. Then this morning, I watched her pull Santa’s gifts from the same bag that once… a long time ago, held that beloved, custom dollhouse.

    Like a portal to another world, today it produced a custom crocheted doll of Ramona Flowers. A last minute Wish List addition, but Santa magically manages to pull through even on those tough requests, doesn’t he? We played some Mario Bros. and nearly an entire game of Doctor Who Monopoly (She lasted longer than I predicted, and had more cash on hand when she threw in the towel). She even ate my from-scratch cinnamon rolls with me and told me that they were the best cinnamon rolls she had ever tasted. My heart was full.

    Then noon came and so did he. I handed him a gift (for their family of three from… me), along with cookies and a few of those from-scratch cinnamon rolls that he used to love. A gesture, of course, but one sincerely sent. Along with my child. He got her as well I suppose; undoubtedly more appreciated than the gift — as it should be. But not before I hugged her a million times; trying to savor her presence just a moment longer before relinquishing it. And like that, it was his turn to make the most of a half holiday. So she waved goodbye and I managed to hold my tears at bay until they rounded the corner.

    It was a good Christmas. It was. It really, really was.
    My best since 2018 without doubt.
    But, does everyone’s Christmas normally involve tears these days, or is that just a hallmark of a single mom’s Christmas day?

    I’m a full-time mom of an 8 year-old, but also a part-time empty nester; It is never harder to forget that fact than during the holidays. The house goes all quiet, but my soul still aches loudly.

    I’ve spent the last few hours daydreaming about my daughter one day being all grown up. A home and family of her own. Perhaps she’ll invite me to delight in her family’s presence from sun up to sun down on Christmas Day. I wonder when that magical day that might be? My first FULL Christmas Day with my daughter since 2018 can’t come soon enough! But I have to believe that it will. And maybe that, one day, IT will be my new normal. If so, I can’t promise will be no tears, but I can assure you they would be tears of joy! ✨

    But perhaps Judy Garland said it best:

    “Someday soon we all will be together, if the fates allow.
    Until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow.
    So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.”

  • Year 36

    Year 36

    Today is my thirty-seventh birthday and before I dive into my annual 40 by 40 update, I have a story I’d like to share:

    Thirty-one years ago, as I celebrated my 6th birthday, my mother was celebrating a milestone of her own. She had reached her long awaited due date with my little brother. Having endured 42 weeks of pregnancy myself, I can now relate to how ‘over it‘ she must have felt on that day. Swollen feet and hands. Sleeplessness and constant discomfort. And yet, there she was – wrangling a gaggle of rowdy children that she had invited into her home just to celebrate…me. Bless her.

    But as so often is the case, children are oblivious to the needs of others and I was no exception. According to her, sometime during the party festivities, I stopped and placed my tiny six year old hands on her full-term pregnant belly and gave my new sibling a stark warning: “Stay in there! I am not going to share my birthday with you!”

    In the end, Matthew stayed put for an another week; so either he heeded my counsel or the Fates decided to give me a bit more time to acclimate to sharing. I say a ‘bit more‘ because little did I know that one day, the Fates would actively weave strands of change in, around, and through my favorite day.

    Thirteen years ago, my older sister met her now-husband and, as luck would have it, he shares my birthday. Overnight, within my extended family my day of recognition and celebration became ours; As I was then 24 and not six, I like to think that I adjusted slightly better to the shared spotlight; but in truth, I still recall feeling an intangible loss that I struggled to explain, understand, or even share with those I trusted most.

    Roughly four years after that adjustment, I became pregnant with my daughter and eagerly began preparing for her arrival with my, now, ex-husband. When my doctor initially determined that my due date would be in September (albeit the 30th), a part of me was gleeful. It tickled me, of course, that my daughter would be a Libra like her mother; but a sliver of self continued to feel like maybe October would remain ‘mine’ insofar as it related to the family and life I was building with my Partner. Maybe I wouldn’t have to share.

    The Fates, of course, those clever, tricky Moirai, didn’t waste a chance to remind me that anything I seek to claim as ‘mine’ is truly an indistinguishable fiber in the brilliant tapestry that connects us all.

    My sweet September baby ultimately took her time and reluctantly arrived Earthside on October 14th following a 47-hour labor and delivery. I was discharged from the hospital on my 29th birthday with a stitched abdomen, an impacted bowel, and an infant. Happy Birthday, right?

    Though I was too exhausted to see it at the time, my daughter’s arrival — so close and yet so distantly removed from my own — would forever change my thoughts on October and birthday celebrations altogether. Her traumatic birth had flipped a switch within me; Something that once felt special because it was ‘mine‘, grew in its noteworthiness because it was now, and would forever be, intertwined with her.

    *****

    My dear daughter turned eight this past weekend; And, as I have done in each of the seven preceding Octobers, I planned a celebration worthy of her. It, of course, included a party, plenty of presents and surprises, and a sugar intake that definitely exceeded the daily recommendation. Most importantly though, her birthday (for me at least) has become symbolic of something I hope to never take for granted: An opportunity to ensure that she knows her presence on this planet — for this lifetime — is truly remarkable and worthy of celebration. And this year — after over a decade of insisting that I no longer needed to celebrate my calendar square, I’ve finally come to my senses.

    For the first time — in a looooonnnggg time — I will fully reclaim my favorite day by celebrating myself with those I love, who love me in return. Tonight there will be a small dinner + an Escape Room adventure. And on Friday, I’m opting for full cringe by throwing myself an Eras inspired 37th birthday party. My birthday present to myself this year will be the same one I give willingly and joyfully to my daughter each year: An opportunity to remember that, I too, am loved and worthy.

    I think time + age have a way of making us feel like adult birthday celebrations are arbitrary and frivolous. After all, grownups should be practical. Our minds should be focused on bill paying, grocery shopping, endless laundry, and Outlook Inbox monitoring. Indulging in too much whimsy — especially when it involves spotlighting oneself — is generally frowned upon and perhaps even considered narcissistic. But my daughter taught me that each of us come into this world carrying a light that is unique and purposeful and that together, they spotlight the tapestry we all continually weave; The anniversary of our birth is a beacon, perhaps needed now more than ever, that calls us back to, and rekindles, our flame so that the world can be a little less dim.

    The world’s population is currently estimated at over seven and a half billion; On average each of us share our special day with over 20 million people. My six year old self would have been horrified to know that, but my 37-year old self finds abiding comfort in it. How wonderful it is to never be alone in our celebration!

    I know without doubt that my world — hell, THE world — would most assuredly be less bright without my daughter. And today, I will embrace my own inner child and concede that — even when I can’t or won’t see it — this world would also be less bright without me. And without you. Without each of us.

    So thirty-one years later, I’m all out of stark warnings and instead will issue an open invitation: “It’s okay to come out now. I know how lucky I am to share my birthday with you all!”

    _______________________________________________________________________________________________

    Here are the items I am crossing off the 40 by 40 list this year:

    Level 1:

    • Read 3 “classics” I haven’t read before: This item has sat, unfinished, on the list since my Year 31 update. Back then I managed to easily power through Jane Eyre + Catcher in the Rye. I ran into issues though in both picking a final classic to read and in, well… reading my pick. I initially tried both For Whom the Bell Tolls and Lord of the Flies. Nothing against either Hemingway or Golding, but I eventually set both aside in favor of more modern reads, which… left this item undone. This year, however, I read The Bluest Eye – Toni Morrison’s first novel initially published in 1970. While some may debate whether it is ‘old enough‘ to be considered a classic, I would argue that its current ‘banned’ status only solidifies its place in the body of critically necessary literature; I know I am better for having read it.
    • Watch the sunrise and sunset in the same day: Without realizing it, I’ve completed this item more than once in my 30’s. Most recently, last November when I arose in Barcelona, Spain for an early-morning flight and noted the sunrise while in route to the airport, and then later watched the sun descend as I embarked on the final leg of my return journey. The year before that, it was an unforgettable sunset on my last evening in Venice followed by another early airport morning run. It seems like I am only awake early enough to catch a sunrise when I am also catching a flight 😉 I’ll get yet another go at it next month, when I travel back to Italy —this time, with my mother. This go round, I hope to be more intentional in my appreciation of the sunrise part; I will endeavor to wipe the sleep from my eyes long enough to admire its glory with the same awe that makes a sunset so moving.

    Level 2:

    • Purchase Create and display original artwork from a local artist: I noted in my Year 34 Update that I had picked a local artist (and friend) to work on a custom piece for my home. Well, life happens and she ultimately wasn’t able to work on piece as planned. I still love the specific idea that I discussed with her and I hope to one day have it commissioned. Until then, however, I’ve learned to embrace my own creativity and the walls of my home now contain a variety of original artwork created by yours truly + #LittleLadyHolland. It’s been an adventure getting to know my artistic side again and I hope it is one that continues well into the next decade.

    Level 3:

    • Leave a 100% tip for great service: Throughout my 30’s I have made it a habit to give 100% tips on Uber/Lyft services when I felt called to by either 1) great service, or 2) meaningful connection with the driver. There was a time though, when I didn’t want to ‘count’ these tips insofar as each relates to this list, because I felt like my ‘Official 100% Tip’ needed to be for some impressive or elaborate occasion with a BIG check. In other words, if the 100% tip didn’t amount to BIG dollars, I did not consider it ‘worthy‘ of notation here. But if anything, my 30’s have taught me to have an open mind and to always take credit for my actions. I still hope that one day I can afford to tip 100% on a BIG check, but for now I know that my current practice of 100% tipping on smaller ride fares still creates BIG ripples of kindness and generosity and I am happy to mark this item off my list.
    • Meet 5 “Internet Friends” in real life: At this stage of my life, it is honestly hard for me to keep track of the difference between ‘Internet Friends‘ and ‘IRL Friends‘. That distinction seems soooooo 10-years ago 😉 So many of my IRL friends have morphed into Internet ones due to lockdowns, physical moves, and other major life events. But I have little doubt that between meeting + maintaining friendships with many of my fellow ‘semi-retired bloggers’ and fellow GOMI-Fall 2015 moms in my early 30’s, plus more than one run-in with Julianne Moore (1 + 2), multiple international travel acquaintances that I keep in touch with, at least two relocated besties (I miss you Niki + Kevin!), and a handful of Bumble matches turned BFFs certainly ticks off the spirit of this item, and likely the letter of it as well. I’m good with calling this one done.

    Level 4:

    • Visit three countries in Europe: France (2018), Italy (2022), + Spain (2022) = CHECK, CHECK, CHECK!

    *****

    Other List Updates:

    • Pay off all student debt (Level 4): This would have happened this year but for an illegitimate SCOTUS striking down President Biden’s student loan forgiveness program. It will never be lost on me that millions of Americans, including myself, are expected to struggle with debt while dozens of elected officials — and others who celebrated the ruling against student loan forgiveness — lined their pockets with forgiven PPP loans, but I digress… I hope to still reach this milestone before 40.
    • Become proficient (er, conversational) in another language (Level 4): I like to think that I am slowly but surely inching towards this one. Does ordering coffee in Italian while in Rome count? If so, I’m in like Flynn 😉
    • Do an unassisted pull-up (Level 4): I have made progress towards this goal several time throughout my 30’s thus far, only to have each push derailed by a physical injury. This fall it was intercostal costochondritis. 0/10 I do not recommend. Perhaps the Fates don’t intend for me to accomplish this one, but once my doctor has given me the all clear, I’ll still certain to give it another go. Let’s just see how it plays out.
  • Languishing

    Languishing

    In the year of our Lord 2023, I find myself happily languishing through a relatively still, easygoing era of my life. If you would have told me three years ago that I would spend 95% of my waking hours within the same four-walls, with largely just myself and my pets for company, I certainly wouldn’t wager that I was happy. But here I sit and quite frankly, it’s lovely.

    The daily theatre of my life is largely a one-woman show.
    I wake. I work. I relax. I sleep. And then I do it all over again.

    Of course, I also parent when my daughter is home, but between school, shared custody, and soccer practices, that time feels distinct, precious, and rarer than I prefer. I simultaneously exist in two parallel universes: In one, I am with my daughter; In the other, I must find a reason to still exist without her. This post is about my time in the latter universe.

    My waking hours are typically quiet and low-key.
    I watch a lot of television. I binge a lot of social media.
    I read a respectable number of books. I research a bunch of interesting things just for the hell of it.
    I start, and occasionally manage to finish, fun, ADHD-inspired projects.
    I accompany my 12-year old dachshund on delightful morning walks and I take wonderfully refreshing afternoon naps basically whenever I want them.

    Despite the regularity of my solitude, I assure you that I haven’t been completed isolated while in this Languishing Space. Notwithstanding the occasional calendaring conflict, I not only see my closest friends quite frequently but I also choose to regularly leave the comfortable confines of my home. These practices have helped me savor this time while also helping me avoid a slip into full Hermit mode. All in all, it has been a really, lovely time. Quite lovely. So lovely in fact that ─ despite instinctually knowing that it is time for something else ─ I hesitate to leave this behind.

    Sure, it can get a little quiet here, but at least I am at peace.
    I haven’t always felt peace you know.

    Sure, it can get rather lonely here but at least I am safe.
    I haven’t always felt safe you know.

    Sure, really amazing things might await me out there, but I really appreciate everything I’ve got here.
    I haven’t always appreciated what I have you know.

    But its clear now that I have tried to make a permanent home out of this temporary situation and like a Bear awakening in the Spring, I realize my Languishing Cave cannot sustain me much longer. If I stay, I will eventually starve. My carefully constructed refuge now only offers the illusion of safety. Lingering here too long will bring about my own ruin. And I know it.
    And yet…

    Each step away from this place of shelter and respite, brings closer the avoided feelings: Discomfort, Fear, Anxiety, Anger, Sadness.

    I want to write again, but what if its bad?
    Worse yet, what if its good?
    If its good and no one ends up reading it, will I be a failure? Again?
    If its good and people do read it, will they like it? Will they like me?
    Worse yet, what if they don’t? Will I be sad again? God, I don’t ever want to be that sad again.

    But the Bear cannot reacquaint herself with the cool, refreshing pleasures offered by nearby glistening waters until she sets her sight on the hills it nestles in between and she walks away from Winter’s den. So then I too should set out on this journey and hope the road I travel leads to new possibilities and maybe even second chances to delight in pleasures I’ve now forgotten.

    In this new era of my life, the daily theatre will still feature work, play, restoration, and slumber but there will be a new castmate: Discomfort. For me. And for others too.

    I don’t like that and frankly, it is a big part of why I think I have chosen to languish in the comfort of the here. The comfort of the now. The comfort of the quiet.
    I really don’t want to disappoint anyone. I really don’t want to hurt anyone.
    I really don’t want to offend anyone. I really don’t want to embarrass anyone.
    But I do really need to write words again. And I really do need to tell stories again.
    And I really do need to be able to express myself again.
    And I need to be able to do it without putting absolutely everyone’s comfort, peace, and well-being ahead of my own.

    I can no longer drown in the lives of others while waiting for lifelines they may never cast.

    And who knows, maybe this time I will be seen. Maybe this time, I will be appreciated.
    Maybe this time, I will be loved in the way that I love.
    That would be something, wouldn’t it?
    There are no promises, but there is certainly a chance.
    But there’s no chance without deliberate choice.
    So you see, I cannot languish here much longer. I cannot.
    I wish I could. I really, really wish I could.
    I’ve lived out a million invisible lifetimes trying to find a scenario in which I could linger in this languishing forever… And I cannot.

    Once upon a time, I was the type of person who would enjoy poking a sleeping bear just to delight in the surprise of it all. Maybe I should be that type of person again.

    I would like to know what happens when the Bear awakens. Really awakens. What then?
    Once she has rubbed the sleep from her eyes and shaken the last traces of Winter from her fur, what possibilities await her then? What wilds will she see? What adventures will she encounter?

    I don’t have answers yet, but on the breeze there are subtle notes of Spring’s renascent splendor and for the first time in a long time ─ in the year of our Lord 2023 ─ I don’t think I want to Languish here anymore.

  • Year 34 + a twist

    Year 34 + a twist

    I put off starting this post quite a bit this year and had trouble putting my finger on why that was. I did want to write the post. I truly love this annual tradition of mine and this year has been eye-opening for me. I wanted to share more about it, but something seemed… off. I couldn’t place it.

    So I decided instead to “prepare” for writing this post. I determined the best preparation would be reading and re-reading my original 40 by 40 list, taking honest stock of what I did do, what I didn’t, and what I wish I had already done. But every time I revisited the list, I found myself struggling with that “off” feeling again and it sent me into a frustration spiral.

    One night last week, with my birthday looming, I laid in bed willing myself to focus on reading the last “Classic” necessary to technically cross another item off my list and it suddenly hit me: I no longer fully align with the woman who made the list.

    The original list was published shortly after my 30th birthday in 2016. That was the year I watched my daughter turn one and the year I first suspected (though couldn’t admit to even myself) that my marriage might not last. My job change that year that would ultimately put me on a professional path I had never before considered and along with the rest of the world, I watched the 2016 election unfold. I cried as one of my heroes gave her concession speech, and then held my breath to see what would happen next.

    A lot happened next.

    2016 and the version of who I was at 30 years old seems far, far away. We can all argue all day about how the world has changed in that handful of years, but I am certain of one thing: I am NOT the same woman who wrote that list.

    The world isn’t a static place full of static people with unchanging desires and dreams. I could spend the next five years of my life identifying all the ways I’ve changed in the past five years of my life only to find that the passed time had once again shifted my alignment.

    What I am trying to say is this: If I made a 40 by 40 list today, some of those same things may possibly make the cut, but not all of them would.

    With that realization, it started to seem rather silly that I felt obligated to check boxes off a list that another woman had written. Why would my annual reflection or self-critique be beholden to desires that I no longer have? Even more, how could I properly reflect on my own growth and awareness without holding myself accountable for working towards new dreams I discover along the way?

    So what does all this mean? Well, I’m not cutting any items from the list but I no longer feel compelled to complete them all either. Now I see each item as a time capsule reminding me of a moment when something in particular held my interest or attention. And I want to add new things to my list as I go because there is so much more I want to do on this side of 40 that 2016-me never even considered.

    So here’s my updates and additions. And I can honestly say that over the next five years, absolutely everything is subject to change:

    Purchase and Display Original Artwork from a Local Artist (Level 2)

    I did pick a local artist and friend (Looking at you Meg!) who I adore and discussed the piece I wanted with her earlier this year. But you know, life happens and it isn’t yet hanging in my house. That’s okay. The thought of it being there one day already makes me happy and I plan on sharing the shit out of it when it does finally grace my walls!

    Meet 5 “Internet Friends” in real life (Level 3)

    As an elder millennial, I remember a time where people thought it was weird to call people from the internet you’ve never met in person your friends. But between the lockdown and the pandemic, that ship has sailed and I will happily admit that I love so many people that I’ve never had the pleasure of embarrassing in public. Next week that will change though when the beautiful Natalie Kristeen comes to the Natural State! I absolutely cannot wait!

    Invest in Luxury Bedding (Level 3)

    Over the last 5 years I have bought multiple sets of expensive sheets and duvets all boasting high ratings and long lists of happy customers. And yet, I still find myself regularly sleeping on Target brand sheets and curling up for the night with a fuzzy blanket from my sofa. So, this is officially a cry for help: Help me find luxury bedding that I don’t hate y’all. I sleep hot so I prefer cool sheets. I am needy so I prefer something weighted. And I have a toenail that can get a little snaggly at times so durability is a must. Oh, and I like my fitted sheet to be TIGHT. Super tight. No oversized saggy mess over here. So feel free to hit me up with any (and all) suggestions at this point. I’m beyond tired of spending money only to end up disappointed and back at Target.

    Go Scuba Diving (Level 4)/Take a girls only vacation (Level 3)

    Check, check, and CHECK! This summer I had the pleasure of taking my very first dive trip in Bonaire with some amazing women and friends. Was it perfect? Nope. But life seldom is. There were hiccups along the way (including at at least three missed flights) but at the end of the day, I got to experience something I’ve always wanted to experience and it was pretty damn cool. So I’m pretty damn happy about it.

    List Additions (For Now):

    Get Published- My original list included writing something small for myself that I was proud of and that was nice. But I’ve done that time and time again and I want to challenge myself to more so I am officially expanding the original item: I’d like to be published. I’m working on a variety of things and one day, I want others to read them because quite frankly, I think the things I have to say are worthy of hearing. A younger version of myself never would have said that and I think that kind of growth is pretty fucking cool.

    Climb a Tree – I get how crazy this makes me sound but I don’t care. As a kid, I loved to climb trees. Hell, I literally used to climb a tree in my backyard and write poetry in a notebook made of homemade paper. Somewhere along the road to adulthood, I stopped climbing trees and I’m not even sure why. So the next time I see a tree that is begging to be climbed, I want to go for it without hesitation. Life is too short to not climb the tree.

    Low Priorities (For Now):

    Keep a garden alive for one full season (Level One) – I have no desire to be Annie Oakley; I am a city girl who enjoys the farmer’s market and my lawn guy in equal measure. I don’t see myself learning the intracentries of fertilizer anytime soon but I suppose I can never say never.

    Renew wedding vows (Level 2) – I hate to be the one to break the news, but I’m divorced. And my ex-husband is remarried. So, the odds of renewing the wedding vows we exchanged when I was 26 is approximately… Zero. In truth, I’m not sure I am the marrying-type anymore. I suppose only time will tell. Either way, I’m not losing sleep over not being able to cross this one off the list.

    Curate and maintain a stylish and versatile wardrobe that
    compliments my body type (Level 3)     – Pssst! Guess what? What compliments my body changes over time because my body changes over time! Bless the innocent heart I had at 30 thinking that once I was done having kids I would fall into a steady routine and maintain the same figure the rest of my life. But I do enjoy reducing my carbon footprint through thrifting and experiencing with styles I once considered too out of the box for me. So all in all, I like where I’m at with this one for now.

    ____________________________

    So that’s the end of 34. As I enter into my 35th year, a recent TikTok keeps popping up in my mind. It declared that your 20’s aren’t your prime, but are instead the primer. I like that but I want to add to it. If your 20’s are the primer, your 30’s are for experimenting with color. Enjoy in some haphazardness and don’t worry too much about drop cloths or taping off the corners. It’s just paint babe. You are always capable of adding another layer.

    So what do you say?

    Let’s all go experiment in color this year!

  • The Misunderstood Value of Female Friendships

    The Misunderstood Value of Female Friendships

    So many things in 2019 have forced me to stop and take stock of my life decisions. I’ve spent countless hours pouring over all the choices I’ve made through the years in an effort to capture what went wrong or, better said, where I lost myself along the way. And while a few of these decisions are clear-cut and I can now resolve not to stray from the path again, one haunts me: Why did I give up my girlfriends?

    The common excuse of course, would be that life is busy. Being a full-time mom, attorney, and wife (not to mention daughter and sister) left me with fewer hours to spread around. And while that’s perhaps the easiest, and most commonly accepted rationale, when I dive into it, it just doesn’t hold water.

    If time alone accounted for my decision, then how do I explain the fact that in the same time period, I watched and re-watched the entire Parks & Recreations series… like four times? That’s 125 episodes of let’s just say, approximately 20 minutes each. That means that I spent 2,500 hours (or a little over 104 days) of my life over the past several years just watching one show that brings me joy. When I break it down like that (not to mention all the other countless hours I’ve wasted on re-watching shows or scrolling through social media) the truth becomes clear — it just isn’t solely about time.

    So I continued to turn this question over and over in my head, until I arrived at a hard and uneasy truth: I didn’t understand or appreciate the value of female friendships.

    That stings to admit to myself, much less publish for all to read. After all, the All-Encompassing Power of Female Friendships are well documented and are embraced by feminists the world over. So why then have I spent years of my life discounting or ignoring them?

    I think the fault lies within myself of course. Like the vast majority of women in America, I grew up feeling inadequate. Society, including the people closest to me, constantly sent me subliminal messages that I alone, wasn’t enough. I wasn’t pretty enough. My breasts were big enough. My stomach wasn’t flat enough. My features weren’t dainty enough. I wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t funny enough. I was instead, merely Kate and that alone seemed inadequate.

    And where did I seek comfort for feeling inadequate? Sadly, it was typically from the very source of those inadequate feelings. Don’t feel fit enough? Here, read all these magazine articles featuring fitness models that you’ll never look like and follow this easy 10-minute routine each night before bed. Don’t feel funny enough? Well, self-deprecating humor is a cure-all. It always gets a laugh and has a built in trigger to keep your self-esteem in complete check. Don’t feel pretty enough? No problem. Find a dude who will tell you aloud that you are beautiful and then turn that into a relationship even though it may not suit either of you.

    None of that is to say that I haven’t had my share of female friends over the year. I have — Growing up. In college. In law school. And even now. But during each of those phases of my life, I didn’t allow the amazing women I knew to play the role they were born to play and in return, I certainly didn’t do the same for them. More directly, I did not realize that for female friendships to have power over our lives and our destinies, we have to first, hand them the torch.

    So what does that look like?

    I’m still learning this honestly, but I think I’m getting better at it. It means checking in with friends – not out of obligations, but out of genuine care and concern for them. It means asking for a lunch date – not just because you need to vent about life but because you want to hear about theirs. It means showing up to events not because there is anything in it for you, but rather, because it means something to them and that alone is worth schlepping across town in the middle of winter. It means admiring qualities in females without envying them. It means realizing their path is not yours and that’s okay. It means stepping out of the spotlight so that it can shine on your fellow female instead. It means realizing that judgment – of them or of yourself – only serves to benefit those who cares about neither.

    Each time I’ve done these things, I am stunned at how the universe returns the favor. I’ve literally had my breath taken away by the stunning generosity and care I’ve received from women who, quite frankly, didn’t owe me a damn thing.

    I used to think that the single most important relationship in your life was your partnership. Your marriage. I used to think that you should prioritize it over everything else, because at the end of the day, the kids grow up and friends move away, but your partner is always your partner.

    But perhaps it isn’t healthy to have a “single most” important relationship. Maybe that’s the fallacy that causes us (or well, caused me at least) to give up on the girlfriends in my life. What if by insisting on such a thing, you and any such relationship, are inherently made less healthy and whole?

    Like me, you are a beautifully complex and magnificent creature. You read that correctly. (As women, we’d do well to remind ourselves of it more often.) One person cannot possibly understand and appreciate the complete wonder that you contain. Frankly, it is irresponsible to place that burden on a single set of shoulders. Plus, that wonder within you aches to learn and to grow from the experiences of other women. It desires to support another woman on her journey. It craves a type of validation, care, and understanding that an intimate partner simply cannot provide.

    I’ve seen the error of my ways. I thought relationships existed in a vacuum. I thought I could work hard on one without much regard to the others. But that’s wholly incorrect. Intimate relationships and friendship are really an amalgamation. Neither can truly thrive if you are wholly neglecting the other. I now understand that I need and deserve the strong, unshakable, and incomparable beauty that female friendship brings to my life and to my spirit.

    And so do you, my friend.

  • Year 32

    Year 32

    Birthdays have always been a big deal to me. Truthfully, I used to celebrate my entire birth month but then #LittleLadyHolland came along on October 14th and I had to reevaluate that a bit. Since her birth, the month of October has understandably been about her and I’m 100% okay with that for super obvious reasons. But the kid inside of me still loves a good birthday celebration even if my birthday is a bit of an afterthought now.This year feels different though. Perhaps it is because my 32nd year on Earth was my hardest yet. I honestly went into my 32nd year feeling more hopeful than ever. In Year 31 I had visited France. I was more plugged into my community. My job and my family seemed better than ever before. I felt like life was more than good; it was amazing. And as I continually saw glimpses of what the future held for me and my family, I became more and more excited to see how the next year would unfold.But I never saw it unfolding like it did. I’m still in the throws of it all. I have good days and bad days. More accurately, I have good hours and bad hours. And while I cannot share too much, I can now say with confidence that on October 18, 2018,  I only saw half of the picture. Waking up to the reality of the other half has been hard, but easy things don’t refine you. I’m overdue for some refinement.

    As always, let’s revisit my 40 by 40 list of things I hoped to accomplish this decade. Here’s a brief rundown of what I’ve marked off my list in Year 32:

    Write a letter to myself that I can read at 50 (Level 1)

    I just did this yesterday. I was looking over my list and becoming a little disheartened that I hadn’t truly accomplished as much as I wanted to in the past year and I thought — I should do this one. You see, I had been putting this one off. Even though I initially put it down as a Level 1 accomplishment, and therefore, an easy one, I’d discovered over the past couple of years that it was, in fact, harder than I thought. I’d started it a few times but always gave up on it. I kept thinking that I needed life to be “set” before I could write it. I needed to know where I would land — I needed to be able to point to something concrete so that future Kate use it as a guidepost back to harmony in the event she’d strayed. With that sort of pressure, it was hard to get anything out of my head and onto paper because life, of course, is chaos and we are never truly “set”. But yesterday morning, as I settled down at my desk, ready to embark on a day of work, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t think of a better time in my life to write this letter. Yes, life is full of ups and downs right now. It is far from set. But maybe that’s what I need to remember. I need to remember that somethings never change and thankfully, others are always in flux. So I wrote myself that letter — it’s four pages. When finished, I sat down and read it aloud to myself in front of some photos of me and Holland while sipping hot tea. It was a moment I hope not to forget and one that, in seventeen years, I hope I can vividly recall as I open my letter for the first time.

    Go zip lining (Level 2)

    In June we went to Colorado for a family reunion of sorts. While I’d flown through and over Colorado many times, I’d never actually visited the state itself. It is such a beautiful state. Don’t get me wrong — I think I’m still likely pick a beach over a mountain a majority of the time, but I gained a new appreciation for the mountains on that trip. Much like the beach, I found that they have a humbling beauty to them that in person, make you feel as if you are both terribly important and supremely insignificant. One day during the trip, we visited the Royal Gorge. The Royal Gorge is a canyon, very fittingly, of the Arkansas River located west of Canon City, Colorado. My generous grandparents-in-law offered to pay for me to zip-line over the gorge so I took them up on the offer. At 1,200 feet above the Arkansas River, the Royal Gorge zip line is the highest zip line in America! It was amazingly fun and the only downside is that the ride itself was fairly short overall. It was fantastic though and I truly hope it isn’t my last zip-lining experience!

    Take a girls only vacation (Level 3)

    In July, my best friend Alex, accompanied Holland and me on a tip to Santa Barbara, California. Though it was not originally scheduled as a girls only vacation, unforeseen events turned it into one and honestly, it was amazing. I shared details pretty liberally on Instagram at the time including the first time Holland’s tiny toes touched ocean water (a moment this beach-loving mama will never forget). So many moments from that trip have already morphed into fond memories that I often recall when life feels hard. While I sincerely hope it is not the last “girls only” vacation in my 30’s (I already tentatively have a few others in the works) it is one that I am supremely thankful for and already cherish!

    ________________________

    In additional to officially crossing the above items off my list, there are a few “Honorable Mentions” this year. This last year really pushed me out of my comfort zone and while I could technically cross some of the following off my list, I’m not going to quite yet because I think there is more to come in these areas. So let’s quickly visit a few honorable mentions:

    Attend service at a house of worship of a religion I am not familiar with 

    Earlier this year I felt a calling to find a church family. I know how that sounds — especially if you aren’t religious or spiritual but it’s true. Years ago I had given up on ever finding a church that encompassed and lived out the Gospel as I interpreted it. For years I had kept that side of my life private — reading Rachel Held Evans‘ blog and Twitter feed and feeling, mostly content, with the community it offered. But then, as you probably know, RHE tragically passed away. For someone who did not personally know her, I was shocked as just how crushed I was to lose her. But underneath the sorrow, there was a small voice. I heard it every time I checked #BecauseofRHE for new messages of lament. I slowly realized that there was a whole community out there who read the Gospel as I did and I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could find a church community that did too. Each time I pressed this thought down in my mind, it would arise again. Finally, I relented and put a list together of churches that I’d be open to visiting. On my second such visit, I hit the jackpot. I found my way into a local Episcopal church, and while it was supremely different from any “church” experience I’ve ever had in the past, I fell in love with it. With the people, with the traditions and customs, with stained glass and the choir. While parts of it still feel foreign to me, I am really enjoying learning more about it and settling in. I also love that Holland talks about going to church with enthusiasm and that we often find ourselves having somewhat theological chats before bed or at dinner. While I still plan on attending service at a house of worship that is not Christian, I feel like my foray into the Episcopal church this year is noteworthy and is a first step on a much needed path.

    Put a wild color streak(s) in my hair (even if temporary)

    I’m not sure if it totally counts as “wild” but earlier this year I broke my nearly decade long “no-color” streak and went ombre with my hair. At first, the ends were a bit amber in color but over time, I’ve lightened them even more. In person, the tips of my hair are definitely blonde and that’s a color that, for this brunette, is at least somewhat wild. I do however, still plan on incorporating a truly wild color in my hair, at least temporarily, in the future so I’m not going to cross this one off the list quite yet.

    Get a Holland related tattoo

    While I do not yet have my Holland related tattoo, I have figured out what that tattoo is going to be and have already set a date (plus paid a deposit) for it. Not spilling the beans yet, but let’s just say, this is one that I’m definitely crossing off the list in Year 33.

    Go Scuba Diving

    Speaking of things I plan to cross off the list soon, an opportunity has hit my radar where I might, just might, get to go on a week-long scuba diving trip in 2020. A lot of things would have to fall into place for me in order to make it happen, including me being able to find the finances to pull it off (at the moment, that particular piece seems the most challenging). Nonetheless, I’m excited about the prospect so I’m going to put this out into the universe and hope it can all come together! Wish me luck.

    ________________________

    The more I think about it, technically speaking, today is not the end of my 32nd year (that was yesterday). Today, I turn 33 so it’s really the beginning of my 33rd year. I like that framing better. In the midst of so many endings, I like the idea of beginning anew. Sometimes we need to rest and to re-evaluate the lives we lead before we set off on new travels. This post today has helped me do that – I’ve been blessed before, I’m blessed now, and I’ll be blessed again. It’s time to start anew in a new year of a new life. Let’s go 33 — I’ve got big plans for you! 

  • Finding an Online Tribe & Loving Them Hard

    Finding an Online Tribe & Loving Them Hard

    I have been an adult for quite some time. I have two degrees (blah… student debt), a husband, a kid, a mortgage, a car note, and a full time job. My days mostly consist of rushing to get to work, working, and then enjoying my daughter for a few hours before she goes to bed. Then of course, there is always laundry to do, Netflix shows to be binged, and let’s face it — that wine doesn’t drink itself. Oh, and occasionally I have to shower. 
    I’ll be honest — “friendships” in the adult world are hard AF.
    In high school, I could ride around town after school with friends, blast Eminem, and dream about life in another town. In college, I could get dolled up and party until the wee hours of the morning with my girls and relish in the fact that I was young and unbreakable. In law school, I could skip a class and enjoy margaritas on a patio with my friends while chatting about crazy professors. 
    Now? In the real world, friendships are much more difficult. Occasionally I can grab lunch with someone when they aren’t in court and I’m not on a teleconference. On rare occasions, I might leave the mounds of dirty laundry and undone household projects behind and actually meet up with a friend on the weekend to chat about what a shitshow adulthood really is and lament the fact that no one warned us. These moments are freeing and grand, but they are rare. Very rare.

    I recently got to meet up with a fellow tribe mom, Stacy, for shopping and margaritas!

    So what is a woman to do when she needs a full-time but low maintenance tribe?

    She seeks one out.
    I’m here to confess that my tribe is a group of women — fellow mothers — that I met online. 
    I really shouldn’t be surprised that I met my friends this way. After all, Adam and I met online. But meeting someone online initially is quite different than only interacting with someone virtually. A few years ago, a more cynical Kate would have told you that you cannot be true friends with someone you have never met. That Kate was wrong. Blogging itself initially opened me up to the idea of online friends. I met wonderful women, like Amber Thomas, who I came to admire and adore despite never once “meeting.”

    Prior to becoming a mother, motherhood scared me. I was never one to seek out babies and the look on my face when someone asked if I wanted to babysit their small child probably gave away my abject terror. So when I was pregnant, I knew that I needed to find like minded women to help assure me that I would somehow survive and that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t screw it all up completely. I went in search of these women and much to my surprise, I met them online.

    Let me just say this — an online tribe is a godsend for adult friendships!

    My tribe is always at my fingertips. We chat on Facebook and through an app called GroupMe. Our children are all roughly the same age so we share stories and trade mothering secrets and techniques. We often complain about long work days or jokingly plot about places to bury the bodies of annoying spouses. We ask for advice and we give reassurance on everything from teething to fashion to politics. We come from all different walks of life and live in all different corners of the US and Canada. Some of us have more than one kid. Some of us are divorced. Some of us work full-time. Some of us are stay at home moms. Our uniting thread is the fact that we all sought out our tribe and that we all continue to come back to care and support one another regardless of our differences.

    As the holiday approach, we are exchanging Christmas cards and gifts and planning future meetups. Some of us have already gotten together in real life and all of those have been fun. But when you have an online tribe — meetups are only a small part of the overall picture. You see, our friendships were formed and built online. So, while never meeting face to face isn’t ideal, it also doesn’t kill the friendships. The friendships thrive on so little effort and as a busy adult, that is so freeing.

    I’m not saying that people shouldn’t have “real life” friends or that they shouldn’t try to make an “effort” in their friendships. They should. I do. But with my “real life” friends, going long periods of time without seeing each other face to face often feels like defeat. It is disheartening and when we do ultimately get together, we end up putting a lot of pressure on ourselves to do it again.. and SOONER this time.

    With my online tribe that kind of pressure just doesn’t exist. They are always there for me without any guilt-ridden aftertaste. I can turn to them when my day is slow and share baby pictures or I chat with them for hours about the West World season finale. Really, the only downside of having an online tribe is having to admit to “real life” people that some of your best friends “live in” your phone or computer. But that is a fact for me now — 26 of my best friends are badass moms who I have never met in person. They are funny. They are sarcastic. They are passionate. They are kind. They are supportive. They are all different. And most importantly, they are all my Tribe.

    So when being an adult and having adult friendships becomes hard, I would always recommend finding an online tribe and loving them hard.

    10/10… would online Tribe again! (<— A little Tribe humor)

  • Monday Morning Thoughts

    Monday Morning Thoughts

    It’s Monday and my mind is unfocused. In a last ditch attempt to get some work done, I thought I would use the blog as a mind-dump. Here goes:
    1) Why do people like printed legging so much? Seriously. I don’t get it. Especially when the print is something holiday related like Christmas trees or pumpkins. Printed leggings are cute when you are under 10 but after that I think it seems a bit over the top. Along that line of thought — what is up with dolman tops? I mean, I love them when your arms are down but when you raise your arms it looks like you are a chicken. A chicken! Who wants to look like a chicken? It is no secret that I struggle with fashion and clothing choices, but I just can’t wrap my head around these two things.
    2) I am beginning to understand why parents live vicariously through their children. I am watching the Olympics — knowing that I’ll be 30 in 2 months time so my shot at a medal is gone. BUT… #LittleLadyHolland could do it, right? Right? I can’t decide whether she should be a gymnast or a soccer star. Maybe I’ll let her choose when she is older. #nopressureparenting
    3) I’m really, really kicking myself lately for not being financially savvy when Adam and I first got married. We both have always had good jobs making good money. But, instead of really budgeting our money and doing smart things with it — like paying off debt — we just spent it. I don’t even really know what we spent it on. We don’t live extravagant lives. We haven’t had a vacation since our honeymoon. Neither of us have any labels hanging in our closets. And yet, I can promise you we have somehow wasted SO much money over the last three years. It really makes me sick if I start thinking about it too much. Now, we are using YNAB.com and I am feeling very confident that we are going to be able to “snowball” a lot of our debt and make great changes. But still, three years of earnings down the drain does NOT feel good man.
    4) My daughter is now 10 months old! Eeek! How did that happen? She is walking. Talking. She has learned to say “No” so the attitude is strong already. Just like her mama…
    5) How is voting for Trump still a thing? No seriously. How? I have never been one to be super dramatic about my chosen candidate’s potential lost. I’ve always rolled my eyes when people would say, “If ___________ wins then I am just going to move to Canada!” In the past, no single candidate (Romney, McCain, Bush) have ever made me think moving to another country would be preferable to living under their presidency. But Trump makes me reconsider my stance on such blanket statements. The trouble is though, I don’t even know WHERE we could move because I have legit fear that a Trump presidency would be SO disastrous that we wouldn’t be safe anywhere in the world. I sometimes wonder if this is how World War III happens. The thought of giving that maniac control of the nuclear codes seriously keeps me up a night. 
    6) I have lost all of my pregnancy weight and then some and I am so happy about it. I’m working out using the MommaStrong.com program and I’ve been eating a homemade salad each day for lunch and avoiding breakroom treats. It honestly hasn’t been too hard. I feel like I will lose even more once I stop breastfeeding. That day might come sooner rather than later if Miss Holland doesn’t learn how to quit chomping down on me with her six little teeth. Ouch! Any tips out there to stop the biting?
    7) I have never once used SnapChat but I did check out Instagram Stories the other day and I don’t completely hate it. But I see there isn’t really a place to “like” or comment on something so I assume you just have to message people directly for feedback. I guess I can get behind that but it is weird having a form of social media with little to no feedback. Is that the way SnapChat works as well?
    Ok — my mind is feeling a bit of clarity.Now off to grab some more caffeine before I really tackle the shit out of this Monday. Cheers!

  • Playing Around with UncommonGoods

    Playing Around with UncommonGoods

    Playtime is among my favorite time.

    When we first had Holland, I was very unsure of how to “play” with her. I mean, it is a little hard to “play” with someone who can barely even track you with her eyes. Now is a different story. Holland is 7.5 months old and playtime is pretty much anytime she isn’t asleep. But from very early on, I was concerned with the type of play and the kind of playthings Holland would have.

    I don’t mind Holland having “girlie” toys but I wanted to expose her to a wide variety of toys. I didn’t mind her having a toy or two that made noises and had lights, but I also wanted her to have to think for herself and not always rely the toy to do all the work. In short, I wanted playtime for Holland to be educational and full of surprises. I wanted her to have to exercise that little mind of hers and I wanted her to grow up believing that she could do anything and be anything that she wanted. If she wants to dress up like a fairy princess one day… so be it. But I wanted to give her options and let her know that she could also build skyscrapers or be a scientist like her Dad.

    Once that decision was made, I had a new hurdle to cross: Finding appropriate toys! I don’t know if you have tried lately, but toy stores are SO crazy. Everything is blue or pink. Everything is divided into dress up or construction. And everything.. and I mean nearly everything makes noise! That’s not to say that I haven’t found some great options at local stores (I have) but I also learned very early on that the internet would be our friend when it came to finding toys for Holland.

    One place in particular that I have loved shopping from is UncommonGoods. I will confess, Adam and I shopped at UncommonGoods long before Holland showed up. Adam would occasionally treat himself to a handy gadget of some kind for the kitchen or I would snag a perfect house warming present for a friend. I was initially drawn to their company because they make a conscious effort to partner with small businesses and manufacturers. They also focus on sustainability and are environmentally responsible. I always try to #BuySmart so these were selling points for me.

    So it was probably fairly natural for me to turn to them for Holland too! She loves playing with blocks and hand puppets but most recently we bought her the “Little Patient” doll (at Adam’s request) and she just loves it. I love it too because let’s face it, it is pretty funny to watch a baby tear the guts (and other organs) out of Erwin (that’s the doll’s name by the way) as she squeals with delight! Who knows? Maybe she will grow up to be a doctor. (Or a psycho. She really enjoyed chewing on doll’s heart!)

    Adam and I don’t necessarily want to be the crazy strict parents that don’t let our kid have fun. We don’t. But we honestly do believe that all play is not created equal. I personally love to see Holland really digging in and enjoying a toy that makes her mind tick. I think those are the moments that really help shape her personality and instill in her a love for learning.

    And really, there are two things I really want this kid to love in life: 1) Learning; and 2) Harry Potter. If I can accomplish that, I think I will have succeeded as a parent.

    ________________________

    Oh yeah, and don’t forget that Father’s Day is coming up. UncommonGoods has lots of goodies that Dad is guaranteed to love! Happy Shopping.

  • Things I Wish I had Believed During High School

    Things I Wish I had Believed During High School

    Sometime this Fall, right around the time that Baby “Florken” (or the “Blorken” as many of you have been referring to it) makes its appearance, I’ll likely get an invite to my 10 year high school reunion. I’ll be honest, I don’t think I’ll go. It’s not that high school was a bad time for me or that the place is filled with bad memories. Neither of those are really the truth. I enjoyed parts of high school. I had friends, hobbies, and some memories I cherish dearly. But overall, high school simply reminds me of a person I no longer am and that reminder is something I think I’d just rather do without.

    So in honor of high school reunions everywhere, I thought I’d put together a list of things I wished I had believed in high school:

    I know I look a little “depressed” in this high school picture, but I swear I won “Most Spirited” and “Peppiest” awards throughout high school. Contrary to photographic evidence, I was sometimes a very happy teen. 

    1) I wish I had believed that different wasn’t bad: I remember spending so much time focused on why I thought differently, acted differently, and felt differently. It never crossed my mind that being different was truly a gift. Now, I see that being different led me to a life much different than those of many of my classmates. And truly, I love my life now so much that I realize that “so different”, in the long run, pays off.

    2) I wish I had believed that my mom wasn’t out to get me: My mom had my best interest at heart. It is true that even looking back I feel she over reacted at time to certain things. But, in large part, I can see now that she was trying to raise me to be a woman of principle and to have values for myself I wouldn’t later regret. Thank you Mom. I didn’t make it easy on you, but you never gave up.

    3) I wish I had believed in true friendship: Honestly,  forget having “best friends” because I don’t even have many “high school” friends I still communicate with regularly. In high school, I seemed to think that friendships would last forever based solely on the gossip we shared, the rules we broke, or the number of times we could roll our eyes at what adults said to us. Those things do not build lasting friendships. Now that I’m an adult, I’ve learned that friendships are built on being there when times get tough and putting another before yourself. I value my “true” friendships now so much and wish desperately I had understood that concept in high school and built more lasting relationships.

    4) I wish I had believed I was worth it: In high school, I didn’t truly value myself. On occasion I would dress cheap and act in ways that didn’t tell the world that I was worth anything more than a passing glance. Even more, I would date complete and total asshats just because I didn’t believe I was worth anything better than that. I often wonder how different life would have been if I would have just put my foot down and demanded to be treated how I truly deserved. My relationship with Adam has been eye-opening in every way and I can’t imagine a future child ever settling for less than the person absolutely meant for them. Asshats beware — don’t try to date my kid. I will end you!

    5) I wish I had believed that life is so much bigger than who you are in high school: I knew that there was life beyond high school and I did look forward to it. I often dreamed about college and careers. Still, I was always so wrapped up in trying to be liked and being seen as a “cool” kid. It never truly hit me that 10 years later, “who” I was or wasn’t in high school would be far, far from my thoughts and cares. While I believe those four years are important, I don’t believe for a second that they truly define anyone. We each are collectively stitched together from the whole of our experiences and I wish I had known how many more things would happen to create the pattern that is me.

    Alright, there’s my list. Tell me — what do you wish you would have believed during your high school experience?