More Reflections, A Year With a Bunny Part Two

One year ago, we adopted Mia from a local rabbit rescue. We knew life would change, but we didn’t consider how much we would change and grow from this experience. These are my reflections on how our little house bunny, Mia, has shaped us in our first year together.

Awareness

Today, I accidentally scared Mia. I came downstairs from working out, with music playing on my phone, distracted and not considering the little bunny, snoozing in a deep sleep. As soon as I looked up from my phone, I was highly aware of what my blissful ignorance hath wrought: ears standing tall, eyes wide, and body tense, ready to run at the slightest hint of danger. Before Mia, I was aware of what startled me, but with Mia and her own sensitive ears, it has challenged me to approach life with an even gentler touch. Today was a day I forgot, but with each passing month, these moments of unawareness are decreasing. Getting used to how aware Mia is of her surroundings was intimidating at first. I remember feeling on edge those first weeks, feeling like I was unable to relax – scared to scare Mia – a bit impossible of a standard!

I’ve learned to be quiet, internally and externally. The desire for quiet, for the little prey animal in our midst, has become a craving for quiet coming from a place inside me. What felt like a burden at first has become a blessing, because the awareness of the sound level, the peaceful environment I wish to create for Mia, has become a goal I desire for my own needs. The awareness of the quiet and the peace is something that I need, that Kyle needs. It’s healthier for us, but in this distracted and noise-polluted world, I don’t know if my awareness was going to attune to this again without Mia.

Structure

Mia has a schedule, possibly wearing a little watch somewhere under all that fur. She hops to her dinner spot around 5 pm, and waits for her breakfast starting at 8 am. She knows what time we should go to bed, with a precision I wish I could stick to. I’m not blessed with a sense of schedule. I tend to drift off course, but Mia is teaching me structure, and her needs are reminding me how comforting a schedule can be. Taking care of her is teaching me more about what I actually need to take care of myself in a healthier way. How is this little bunny so wise, so intuitive? The promise to care for her, every day, is a responsibility that I thought would feel heavy and burdensome, but instead, it is a way I have rediscovered purposeful living. I am grateful.

Letting Go

Detachment from physical things is the hardest lesson I’ve had to learn from living with Mia. Mia loves to chew my stuff. She has chewed holes in sentimental blankets, she has forever changed favorite pieces of furniture, and she will take a chunk out of newly made pieces fresh from my workroom. She doesn’t discriminate from store-bought items either – brand new overalls, my phone case, my Nalgene bottle. This has stressed me out. Mia has chewed the couch, a brand new coffee table hand-built by Kyle, the freshly painted baseboards, slippers, and I’m sure there will be more. I’ve gone through the stages of grief. I’ve had moments of intense frustration and questioning it all. But when I committed to adopting Mia, I told myself that I would remember that people are more important than things, and in this case, people and little furry members of the family.

The Floor is Great

I love sitting on the floor. I have always loved sitting on the floor; it grounds my mind – no pun intended. But dating and spending time at future in-law houses and not wanting to be weird, renting with worn wood floors, and moving into adulthood with busy schedules, changed my life from a cozy floor sitter to work chairs and collapsing into couches at the end of the day. Or sitting at my sewing table in a chair with bad posture. I stopped sitting on the floor. But with a rabbit, they like and need you to be on their level. I believe it is essential for bonding with your rabbit. At the beginning, it was hard. It felt unnatural after a decade of not being on the floor. The floor felt hard, unwelcoming. Even with carpet. But after a few months, I felt comfortable. My hips and back hurt less when I spend time on the floor. A year later, I am back to being a floor dweller. Without Mia, would I have ever gone back? I don’t know, but wow, my body feels more comfortable, younger even.

Slow Down, Be Present

The final thing that my rabbit soulmate has taught me this year is to be present and slow down. Mia is already four; she has an estimated lifespan of 12 years, which is not a lot of time when you really care about someone. I don’t want to miss any more moments with her. Kyle and I celebrated 9 years of marriage this year, 11 years together. Time feels like it is flying, and I want to be more present in my relationship with him. My mom and my stepdad are also getting older, and I want to be more present. Mia is teaching me that. Where I can, when I can make the choice to pause what I am doing to spend time with her, and I challenge myself to do so. That has been a challenge. I tend to hyperfixate on projects, which burn me out, but a difficult bad habit to break.

This year, I have created less, but I am feeling the balance being restored to my life. Without Mia hopping over to spend time with me, who knows if I would be shifting my perspective to a healthier state of mind? I can feel my mind and body feeling less stressed. Mia naps a lot, and that is another piece of the slowing-down puzzle that I am learning to accept without guilt. Rest is important. Rest is necessary. Slowing down is good for us. But we resist, because it’s tough to go against the grain. Rest is seen as lazy, even though our bodies and minds get burnt out. Living with Mia is helping me reset those misconceptions and take better care of myself.

Final Thoughts

I would 100% recommend adopting a rabbit if you have been thinking about it. Adopt any pet, actually, or volunteer at a local animal shelter. Do your research and get involved; it will change your life for the better. Animals are so calming. Mia has helped me open up again, in ways I thought I was closed off for good. It’s helped me understand my neurodivergence, my sensitivity, my trauma. She just gets me. She listens, she is there. She has become a best friend, and don’t we all need more of that in our lives? And what about Mia? Well, I’m honored that we got to provide her with her furever home. She has a big space to zoomie around, endless hay, and pets. She gets to watch TV, explore the couch, and have all her toys and treats to herself. She is the center of attention and trusts us. It’s amazing to know a prey animal trusts you. It challenges you to be the best person you can be.

November 17, 2025

Letters Of Healing #2 – Letting It Out Is Important Too

I have a bad habit, I’ve acquired over the past few years: I bottle things up so people don’t leave me. Hi, I’m Magz and I have a problem. A two-prong issue, actually, I am not processing my feelings, and I am irrationally concerned about rejection. It’s not good. I was taught to believe by family and society that it was because of divorce, specifically placing the blame on my dad, and to be honest, I believed that for a long time. But that answer leaves all of us who have experienced that or who fear rejection in this weird pseudo-reality of things being out of our control, which doesn’t help. It turns the intensity up all while limiting personal growth. How can you move on if this is baked into your personality, right? I mean, everyone who knows your story will instantly know your flaws – your parent or parents “didn’t love you enough” to stick around. Yeah, this is a toxic bunch of nonsense.

So what has helped me get more clarity on this, honestly, is learning about what makes my mind tick and how I can work with myself to be healthier. For me specifically, learning about neurodivergence, and specifically the possibility of undiagnosed autism or adhd, has helped me understand that there might be more to my penchant for brutal honesty than just being an off-putting person or a bad person. It might be that my brain simply processes differently, yet because I want to fit in – masking, I fall into people-pleasing patterns to “fit in” with those around me. Similar to learning about high-masking autism in females, with adhd, there is a sensitivity to rejection and difficulty with emotional regulation that makes processing the rejection more difficult. I can see these in the ways I have interacted with people throughout my life, especially family members.

I get stuck in these camps of either feeling the need to be brutally honest, especially if I feel an emotional meltdown coming on from bottling everything up, or I clam up and shove it down, no matter how much it hurts to “please” the person. All this does is create a cycle of emotional repression, overwhelm, and meltdown behind the scenes. Loneliness, anger, bitterness, shame, fear of rejection, and pain. This is not what a healthy person looks like.

For too long, I’ve mistaken being “tough” with being healthy. It’s been the one-two punch of finding Elena Carroll’s reflective essays and watching Scrubs for these to start clicking in my brain. I find myself pinballing between being like Dr. Dorian, who lets people like Elliott walk all over him, and Dr. Cox, who shoves it all down and sinks into a pit of loneliness behind the shadows because dealing with my problems makes me feel uncomfortable.

My constant dysfunctional relationship, which gets more unhinged every year, my relationship with my mom is the place where I see all these problematic habits come to the surface. I will bottle something up for a decade, afraid of the confrontation, and then one day I will just explode about something else. To be fair, when I do blow up, it’s usually after my mom has contributed to my anger with a gem of guilt or a little nugget of criticism on some part of my personality. Like recently, I was told she was intentionally withholding her health updates after two concerning ER visits, because I am too “sensitive” to handle anything after I told her it has been scary thinking of being sick because I love her. Yep, I see where I have learned to shove everything down – you can’t be weak and express emotions, that’s for losers.

So where does that leave me? Well, I can either choose Option #1 – be honest about my frustrations and stand up for myself, which comes with consequences, Option #2 – bottle it up and fake a smile, all while my shoulders knit themselves into a stress knot and my jaw clenches like a bear trap, Option #3 – I avoid the relationship for months at a time and pretend like nothing happened. Lately, I’ve been thinking, why can’t I just be honest as it comes, instead of bottling up to the point where I am furious? I don’t live there anymore, there are no consequences for being honest gently, and in the moment that I disagree? That would be healthier, and somehow, over all these years, I forgot how to do this. Because adulthood is lonely. Grief is lonely. Sometimes that fear of rejection and people pleasing is all that you crave just to keep a relationship with a loved one steady, because you miss how easy it was when you were a kid.

I think health, though, might be more important than the illusion of peace, because I have not been managing stress well over the last ten years. My mental health took a toll, and so did my physical health. I’ve stored so much stress in my body, pretending I was happy about things that hurt me because I didn’t want to hear how I was different, not enough like my mom’s family, or weak for being sensitive, or a bad person for getting angry sometimes. I’ve had the same knot at the base of my neck for 5 years, which is not healthy at all. So what am I doing with all these revelations about who I am and what is healthy and what is not? I am slowly shifting through it. I’m taking space and a break from some of my more trying family relationships to get this stress worked out of my body and find my calm again. My husband, friends, and my beloved bun deserve better than for me to let things out of my control take a toll on my mental and physical health. Especially when they are the ones who pick up the pieces when I fall apart.

How do you manage stress? Do you struggle with people pleasing or bottling up emotions? Have people ever told you to change who you are to fit their standards?

July 22, 2025

#61 – Tornado Sirens and Big Emotions

Before I start, I wanted to add this disclaimer. I’m not against things that are good for the community. Even if they may not be my cup of tea in the moment. I’ve been struggling with all these big emotions swirling in my mind and these weather sirens were like my fear personified. I’m still working through coping tools for my neurodivergent traits and on the tricky days, loud noises are something I really struggle with. They scare me on a bright sunny day, even more so in the middle of impending doom. But I don’t believe for a second that the world should stop everything to address my needs. I am one person that is part of a bigger whole.

As I browsed Behr’s wall of paint colors, I picked up two paint chips one called Tornado Season and another Thundercloud. They are these two vibrant, moody blues. Bold, dark, striking. I took them home, and I even ordered Thundercloud for a project. Bold, impressive blues. Striking. I was struck by the realism on Tuesday as I was staring at the color in the sky. Coming for me. Enveloping me in the deep, dark blue. It was a blue that would permeate and color my skies longer than the storm would.

Tuesday was a complicated day. It began sunny, cooler, just fine. Mid-morning brought gentle rumbles of thunder that growled across the sky. The clouds darkened and night became day. It reminded me of the eclipse. Rain poured and the wind blew like a tropical depression that came through on our OBX vacation in 2012. The rain was endless, relentless. No big crashing thunder and no violent storms, just the relentless power of water-like waves breaking up on the coastline. You can’t control the tide and you can’t stop the rain.

The morning rain was the most intense rainstorm of the day, yet as thunder rolled again in the afternoon and the skies were brighter with lighter rain and gentler thunder, the local college in town sounded their emergency broadcast sirens. They either sound after the storm is upon us and it is too late to seek shelter or after the big storm has gone through, or my favorite after the storm has been downgraded so that you begin to question your sanity. I live ten blocks away at least from this college and I heard the siren and broadcaster over my headphones in my sewing room. These sirens are loud, intrusive, and in my opinion, are not helping when they go off at the wrong time.

As a person that is sensitive to loud noises, I struggle with these alert systems. The sirens go on and on and create a sense of panic in my brain from the cadence and noise. The storm was over but the alert kept going on. I appreciate the purpose and message of what they are trying to do with these alerts but they are so poorly managed that they are a nuisance. But the cherry on top of the cake was what came at 5 pm. My phone and older phone, which I use for music, along with my husband’s phone began to emit their own sirens. Three sirens went on and on as we had a severe storm alert, a tornado warning, and a tornado watch. Each time a small change was made to the watch or warning, being extended by 5 minutes, they would go off again.

The radar showed nothing. The skies were fine. Then the radar showed the storm clearly going in the opposite direction of our location. Yet the sirens continued from the phones. Next the warning expired and then our town’s tornado sirens began to ring out. It was over the concerning storm cell was going north, yet they carried on with the tornado siren. I held my hands to my ears and tried not to cry from the cacophony of noise that was building with no clear end. I understand they were trying to save lives, and I am not against the good of the community, but again the application of the tornado sirens after it was over, was distressing and confusing. There was so much confusion.

The sirens rang their final call and silence settled in. The sky to the north and the sky to the south were striking. The south was sunny and partly cloudy with white and silver puffy clouds. The sky to the north was a color I remembered. Thundercloud. It was dark but it was passing us by. I began to make dinner now that we were being told everything was fine. The water bubbled on the stove with pasta. Tornado Season. The sky to the north became as dark as the night with an eerie green tinge. The air was still, eerily still. I asked my husband if we were back in a tornado watch or warning. He said there was no new alert. Nothing. Nada.

No tornado sirens. Nothing. No emergency alert from my phone or the college. Tornado Season and Ocean Abyss clear as day in the clouds coming in like the tide. I began to make pesto uncertain if dinner would be served or if the alerts, the broadcasts, and the forecasting, were all about to serve us a surprise like none other. That deep gut feeling of something being wrong came. The clouds painted the sky above a color closer the Midnight Blue and the rain surged down. Thunder, lightning, wind. Power flickering. Big emotions flooding my mind. The alerts sounding in the quiet moments made everything scarier, there had been no pressure let off and instead it heightened the sensations like a horror movie frames a jump scare. The uncertainty of the sirens saying one thing and the sky another.

I’ve never experienced a day like that before. I’m so grateful that no one got hurt. No funnel touched down. Personally, I know I was overstimulated, and panicked by my own issues with the sirens, but more importantly, overwhelmed by the alarm sounds echoing throughout my personal life at the same time.

This year has been a series of big alarm bells. It started with my landlord telling us to purchase the house we were renting over appraisal price or get out of the hoops of buying a house impromptu. We’ve had some bumps along the road like car issues, a fridge dying, an air conditioner breaking, our homeowner’s insurance dropping us on the age of our house, etc. There’s been a lot of change and a lot of new financial responsibilities that are a privilege and an adjustment. But what is expressly weighing on me is my mom’s health right now. Some strange things are going on that the doctors can’t seem to prescribe a treatment plan for. Until we get to the bottom of this, I’m pretty scared. Like a constant tornado siren is hovering in the back of my mind. I’m not sleeping well because of it and all the change in general, and my fuse is short. So the well-meaning chaos of those weather alerts and emergency broadcasts ringing through the air, piled on top of the internal maelstrom I’m sailing through.

I’m thinking about my grandparents and their passing. Family history and health problems are creeping in my mind making large shadow monsters of worry. My mom and I have always been a thing. The divorce really bonded us together and the thought of her being really sick and the doctors not knowing how to fix it is freaking me out. I haven’t worried like this before. There has always been a simple explanation for any health issues she’s had. The way it makes me feel out of control and terrified. My mind is so loud right now. I miss my mind being quiet. That’s what I wish for amid those storms. To not feel impending doom from every level. It was quite a chaotic day. But who knew Behr’s paint was spot on?

August 8, 2024

To Bridget, Just As She Is: Accepting My Neurodivergence

One of my favorite scenes from Bridget Jones’ Diary is the dinner party at Bridget’s flat where she makes the blue soup and assorted congealed things. Despite the chaos and mishaps where she is authentically herself, Bridget’s friends and Mark Darcy toast her effort – “To Bridget…who we love…just as she is.”

In many ways, I identify with Bridget. I am a chaos monster who tries my hardest to not mess up, yet I do. I am a bit awkward, a bit of a goofball, I often feel out of place with who I think I should be compared to who I am if I am just myself. I spent most of my twenties trying to be someone I was not because I thought I needed to change to fit in. I wanted to succeed in life and my relationships, without getting to the root of why I felt like a weirdo.

Self-Reflection and Seeking Wise Counsel

I mentioned before that I discovered I was neurodivergent this spring because of the eclipse. I see now how poignant that timing was as my life would transform from April to July. Everything changed overnight, like everything, my relationship with my parents, my marriage, my living situation, my mental health, and the current direction of my life.

All for the better I can say with relief because life doesn’t always go that way. I see now that if I hadn’t been prepared for this season of life, things may not have changed for the better, my life could be in shambles instead.

Being unaware of my neurodivergent personality traits, caused me to feel uncomfortable, overwhelmed, and in a place of survival instead of feeling steady, relaxed, and open to the adventures life has for us. Changes seemed unbearable. Trust unthinkable. Faith was hard to find. I fought it, resisted letting go of control, and let God fully take the lead of what I was worried about.

Unbeknownst to me as to why I would need to brush up on wisdom, I felt led to study Proverbs at the beginning of 2024, and through this study, I was challenged to grow and broaden my approach to how I live life. To seek out wisdom, to prepare for things before they come in faith, to be fruitful with my time, and to guard my heart and mind from toxic patterns.

It was not an easy task, I really like wasting time and worrying about things that I can’t control. I can also be a negative person, instead of focusing on things that are positive and helpful, I’d circle down spirals of negative, snarky, toxicity. This kept me from seeing forgiveness, and being a cooperative person in my relationships, and made me too afraid to step out on faith for what God was planning for me. I needed to renew my mind!

God putting neurodivergence on my heart to look into opened so many doors, I see now, to understanding myself, my relationships, and what I truly want out of life. So as chaos descended in April, I was incredibly thankful that God went ahead of me and gave me such tools of understanding to navigate the big and scary things that were on the horizon.

Fights and Communication

A week before I learned that I was going to need a buy a house or move, my mom and I had a terrible fight. Like a really strange unavoidable fight like we were two asteroids on a crash course with each other.

At the time I was hurting and confused but through the fight, we actually accomplished huge milestones in communication. We placed new healthy boundaries and were brave enough to be honest with each other about what we needed. I was honest about my neurodivergence afterward because of the new safe space we created.

I didn’t know at the time but I had needed that safe space for a long time, over a decade, and I was going to need it immediately as my life was going to be in upheaval with the move and house-buying process.

Having my mom as my confidant, my buddy, and my raft in stormy seas, was exactly what I needed. It was incredible. From chaos to order. That’s how God works.

In the same way, understanding my neurodivergence helped me draw closer to Kyle, finally being able to communicate what I needed and how we could work together and support each other more effectively. It was something we were going to need to be able to work in sync to determine what we were going to do. If we planned to rent a new place or purchase a house, and if so, where? I can see now how all these little things were woven together to make these steps in faith easier because I sought out wisdom and prepared before the trial came.

Bridget, Just as She is

When things got tough, chaotic, and tricky for me to navigate as a highly sensitive person, neurodivergent, and struggling to navigate the change without feeling overstimulated and scared, I didn’t have to explain how I was feeling. Kyle, my mom, and Scott my dad were one step ahead and ready to catch me as I stumbled. Most importantly God was with me every step of the way, and it was incredible to feel His love through the people around me.

As we moved through the process, the move, the closing, the navigating the weird limbo between renting and buying, the move-in, etc. This wonderful, gentle landing place was there for me through the love of my family and friends and around me, the sensitivity toward what I needed. They made me feel loved and worthy through my vulnerable moments, encouraged me when I was feeling low, and comforted me when this world felt too big and too much for me.

I am forever grateful for this journey because I feel secure like I’m on solid ground again. I don’t feel like a weirdo anymore that needs to change to succeed. I feel ready for this world. Okay with who I am and not afraid to be myself because I am a little different.

I have accepted myself for who God created me to be, differences and all. My loved ones have reinforced this. I see this came together so seamlessly because I first sought wisdom, which helped me figure out what I needed from my relationships, and most importantly I learned to give my loved ones a chance to be there for me.

Letting people in is hard. It can also be incredibly rewarding. So is taking the time to encourage, accept, and support people who you love. When a community comes together, amazing things truly do happen, even on the smallest scale.

I challenge you to seek out wise counsel, self-reflection, and healthy boundaries, and find the people who love you just as you are. Be brave and let people see the real you. Be even more brave and support others, a random act of kindness goes a long way! For example on Saturday, my mom reached out and held my hand when we were in a big crowd. That small gesture reminded me that all the overstimulation I was feeling, was temporary and it was going to be okay.

Thank you, dear reader, for spending time with me today. ❤

July 2, 2024

#52 – Eight

This week has been a whirlwind, and it’s only Wednesday. It’s funny how some days can feel like an eternity to come and some feel long in a way that you don’t want the moment to end. Some events feel like an impending, hurtling, thing that you are on a collision course with and some feel like a sweet treasure, a thing you wished for and hope that it comes true. Duality is such a wild and wonderful thing to experience. It makes me appreciate the differences and the journey.

The Eighth of April 2024

In North America, April 8, 2024, created quite a stir. Somehow I managed to avoid the details of the eclipse until mid-March when the realization crashed down upon me that we were in the path of totality – 99.2% in my hometown. North of us on the shore of Lake Erie they were set to experience 100%. I was flabbergasted. This was going to be my first eclipse with totality and I was pretty uncertain about the experience. It was such an extraordinary event, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The enormity of that took time to process in my mind and while I came to terms with it I was filled with anxiety at the unknown.

I know that I was incredibly privileged to be right in the path and I am grateful for the once-in-a-lifetime experience even though I was nervous about it. I want to be genuine on this blog and hiding the amount of anxiety this experience gave me would be dishonest, especially because I know there were other people out there who were nervous about it too. Once I learned about the eclipse, it was like a constant bombardment of information. There was a lot of hype around this thing. As the days drew closer, it felt as though it was all that anyone was talking about.

Because there was no escape I had a choice – let the anxiety and the fear take the lead or let this experience teach me something about life and myself. At first, the fear had absolute control and I felt stuck. But I didn’t want to live my life in fear, so just as Kevin McCallister faces his fear of the furnace and the burglars, to prove that he is not afraid anymore, I decided to face my fear.

Now this is where I had to do some internal work and make some distinctions for myself, living in fear is not the same as experiencing moments of being afraid or anxious. We can’t control what we feel all the time, but we can make plans and develop coping tools to help us in times of fear and anxiety. I had to give myself grace that I wasn’t going to be perfect at this and I might get scared or overwhelmed but that it is a feeling not a guiding force. It was important to me that I made a plan of ways to help myself through the feelings I was having to get more comfortable and distract myself if it became overwhelming because deep down I was ashamed of my fear of the unknown, but also I didn’t want to ruin this for my husband who was quite excited to experience this from our yard.

I searched for videos of former eclipses to understand what it was going to look like and how it might feel to experience it. I mainly wanted to understand how dark it would get and for how long, as well as how long this process was going to take from start to finish. My husband had a great idea which was to have exit strategies such as going into my workroom and closing the blackout curtains to be in a sensory bubble with the light on. The eclipse’s totality was estimated at 3 min and 45 seconds here so he suggested I find a favorite K-pop song to listen to through the totality to bring me joy in a moment of overload. It was great grounding by him.

Three days before I started setting a timer for the length of the totality and going about my daily tasks to help my brain remember that it wasn’t long at all and it would be over soon if I didn’t like it. The best thing I found was a resource guide for neurodivergent kids that overviewed the whole process from start to finish. I know that I am a Highly Sensitive Person, but now I wonder if I should find out if I am neurodivergent because what I was struggling with had crossed over with this guide. It was the first resource that truly helped me prepare and feel at ease. I also prayed for God to help me shift my focus from fear to appreciation for this amazing event I was going to see and to see His majesty in the moment instead of my fear.

On the day of the eclipse, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach, it felt like the day I got married, something big and life-changing was on the horizon, not impending doom but something bigger than myself. A big moment for us all, like the morning of my college graduation, it was a big step into the unknown. This is where I could start to feel things falling into place. I realized my next-door neighbors who feel like family were going to be home for it and that felt so comforting.

When it began the neighbors who I clicked with all came outside and we experienced the eclipse start together. We then settled in and watched with the friends who feel like family and it was such an amazing bonding experience that I won’t forget. That being said, I did not make it through the event without having a panic attack which I know God helped me pull myself out of. At totality the light was so weird, the shadows disorienting, and the air too still and cold. It felt like a low-pressure system coming through and I felt overwhelmed by the oddness.

I’m glad I experienced it once, but I do not wish to see another one anytime soon. Once was enough, I’m sorry to say, it was too eerie for me. It was an incredible display of creation’s beauty but it was overstimulating and straight up uncomfortable for me to love it. I’m thrilled though for all the people who got to experience it and absolutely loved it. I want to be more like you!

Eight Years of Marriage

As the sun moved quickly, faster than the speed of sound through the eclipse path my world returned to normal my mind shifted from that place of anxiety to a restful contentment. April 8th was over, which meant April 9th was coming, my eighth wedding anniversary, and a whole day to spend with my husband. Another year in the books with my best friend! Another year passed, eight in total, a dream I hoped would happen when it got difficult and when life seemed stacked against us. We’re out of the honeymoon period, the newlywed haze, the seven-year itch, and all those weird qualifications our society puts on marriage. When it’s really about every day and choosing the other person each day. Committing to the team and playing for the good of the team.

We’ve had so many weird anniversaries where it felt like our world was barely holding on. We’ve had tough years where it felt like a fight to stay together because outside forces like family, finances, childhood trauma, grief, the pandemic, the recession, etc were stacked against us. It felt good to get up and have a normal day of spending time together with my best friend.

In the morning we ran errands and got Kyle a fishing license and me some trail shoes, we went to a used bookstore and grabbed some boba tea. We ate stir fry with noodles for lunch and sprayed for ants around the perimeter inside and out, later we went to the driving range, got Domino’s for dinner, soaked in the beauty of shooting stars and cherry blossoms on ACNH, and finally ended the evening with two of our favorite channels – Matt and Julia and Coupy Camper.

Normal, steady, friendship, connection, contentment, affection, I think this is what we all yearn for more than the flashy moments. Especially after a day of a once-in-a-lifetime event, being “boring” with my best friend in the normal sunshine in a place that feels familiar doing my favorite things, and preparing for more adventures, just felt right. It was the balance being restored in my world, something I am sure to hold dear for years to come.

April 10, 2024

#47 – Goodbye February

This month has straight up stunk. It was a pinball of coming off those allergic reactions I mentioned in #45 – Allergy and Winter Winds, coming down with a cold or a cold, getting better, having an allergic reaction to my eyeshadow, getting another cold, discovering my body wash and loofah combo was giving me irritation, in the form of friction hives, and having to stop drinking camomille to get the hives to go away. I was stuck in this loop of discouragement and I definitely let it live in my mind leading to worry and feeling stuck, basically, like this gif when Kim and Ron switch bodies because of Drakken’s body-switching machine. It was one flip to another flop, nothing progressing, just stuck.

That is life, it kicks our butts, leaves us discouraged, and some days feel like a bunch of little things going wrong are going to give us death by a thousand paper cuts. But honestly, that’s part of the journey of existence. Life does not give us any guarantees that each day is going to be sunshine and rainbows, some days are like a tsunami, and other days are like tripping, repeatedly. I’m thankful that it was only a bunch of small little things breaking my focus, instead of one of those big things that shake us to our core. As a highly sensitive person, I can let the little things swirl around in my head until they are big, shakeable problems that tower over me. These little setbacks taught me something pretty important, I need people in my life. I crave it more than my introverted nature is willing to admit.

On those days, when I felt frustrated and down, lost in the worry of my own head, the thing that pulled me back to the light were people. They helped me remember that I wasn’t alone, but instead that I am loved and needed by others in return. There is purpose and worth in the person I am in being there for others in my life.

It was the small things, Kyle taking care of me when I was feeling really crumby, like asking if I had taken medicine or refilling my water bottle before I realized it was empty. Him doing the dishes, cooking dinner, and making me tea in the morning as I was super slow pulling myself out of bed. Those are huge when you are feeling sick and he is so patient with me. Or my neighbor, who texted me one morning because our Amazon packages got mixed up, remembering she is next door and always there if I need a friend. A phone conversation with a friend, talking about anything or nothing, but the connection of catching up after a while and spending time in that bubble together is such a refreshing reset. Having one of those low-maintenance friendships where she texts me out of the blue and we spend time catching up writing digital letters to each other until the conversation fades, knowing we’ll pick it back up later on. Admitting to my mom that I was scared because she was having complications from her surgery this past summer, saying the fear aloud and facing that I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. A quick chat with my stepdad, talking nonsense but having a blast doing it. My brother-in-law video calling me out of the blue to catch up as we both cook dinner.

Those little moments of community, pull me out of the funk I was in faster than I realized. We really need people. This modern life is lonely. If nothing else, from this month, I learned how dissatisfied I am with the digital barriers there are to the community and how I don’t want to settle anymore. Because people matter and we need them even if we get peopled out easily. Goodbye, February, my relentless gremlin and ironically, the frank teacher I needed.

February 26, 2024

#46 – Sewing Studio

One afternoon day, I hit a wall and found a solution in my workout room. You see I’d been sewing in the living room, not because I wasn’t provided the opportunity to have a sewing room, I think I was just being stubborn. Throughout 2023 though, I began to outgrow the living room setup, galavanting from the coffee and dining room tables. My projects were scattered across the first floor of our home. It was chaos. Fabric scraps, yarn fluffs, knitting needles, pins, computer, charger, sewing machine, sewing pedal, notebooks, paintbrushes, etc.

I hit a wall when I felt frustrated for the 1000th time that my sewing machine was bouncing against the circular antique table instead of being balanced on a proper sewing table. I then switched to cutting out a pattern on the coffee table, littered with life and projects, in this ineffective space I cut the wrong piece. In frustration, I realized this was a product of my own decision-making. It was time to level up and clean the workout room for a proper studio.

I think I had been thinking about this longer than I realized, because, after Christmas, I hung up my new bunny calendar and K-pop posters in the workout room, like a future studio. Even though I wasn’t planning the conversion to a studio, it all worked out seamlessly. I moved some things around, decluttered others, and brought the white folding table up from the coat closet. I brought my machine and sewing notions up, including my sewing treasure chest Kyle made me last year. With art supplies, notebooks, and my computer in toe, there was a magic that happened. It was perfect!

The only money I spent on the conversion were new curtains to keep the space warmer, than the repurposed sheets I had sewn into curtains. It’s the breathing room I need to create and the space from this work I need. Knowing I can step away from a project for the night, without having to clean up the items for dinner, is life-changing. I’m sleeping better.

I think since getting married and working from home, I missed that private space, like having my own room again. I can shut the door and escape into my own little world. That was one of my favorite things about life as a single person. It’s good to keep those things, after life changes. I love my life, but I like who I am more with this studio. I am a lot more patient.

My favorite part of this workspace is the natural lighting. It’s so bright and airy, that it lifts my spirits every time I walk into the space.

February 13, 2024

#18 – Mandalorian Mindset

*Hello there, the following post contains spoilers.*

I was reminded of something this week as I watched the latest episode of The Mandalorian: how life changes. And how those changes shape our current circumstances and then affect how we consume stories. It will then affect why we return to the table to consume the food of the story, how often we return, and why we need the thrill of the escape. It changes how we experience the taste of the tale. But over time our palettes change and our appetites lead us to crave different plots. This I forgot.

I enjoyed the rogue direction of the third season. I know that is not a popular opinion, but watch the Clone Wars series and then you will see the value of this season. The Clone Wars animated series showcases Mandalore as it was, and Bo-Katan Kriese as she was before the purge. It makes a complete song out of little melodies of Mandalore sprinkled in the Star Wars universe. So with that in mind, I came to the table of Season 3, Episode 7 expecting one thing and left the table with indigestion ready to flip the table and walk away.

Because I was looking for something not really found in the Star Wars universe – hope and happiness.

It is not a cozy world and that used to be part of the Star Wars adventure for me. It was a rush to watch the epic struggle between the empire and the rebels, yet after a devastating 2020 and a dangerous beginning to 2021, I experienced a lot of personal adventure and personal loss. I felt a bit like I landed on the wrong side of the battle and lost my sure footing. I have been looking for more wins in what media I consume to escape the reality of life. Simply put, my appetite has been craving cozy and comforting. Stories where good triumphs over evil. Because let’s be honest, after seeing what Russia has done in Ukraine and China in Hong Kong, do we really need more reminders of what the Empire-like structures are capable of? But that is not what Stars Wars is about, I was making it about me and what I want, and I the viewer forgot what cuisine I signed up for.

As a highly sensitive person, I take in the emotion of whatever environment I’m in. I absorb the world like a sponge. This has good and bad connotations. I will empathize with your victories and will feel distraught by the pain of losses. With this in mind, watching the final scenes of “The Spies” was quite a lot for me. I was stuck where I sat and felt the wave of loss wash over me like it was happening in real life. I was so absorbed in the story I was reminded of times I have lost someone unjustly, the times my dad felt ripped from my life and I cried as the final blows came from the Red Guards.

I forgot to watch gently and prepare myself for the Star Wars formula of disrupting families, and the balance of good and evil which means evil never really disappears. In comparison to my study of the Bible in the past few years, I’ve gotten used to and even comfortable remembering that evil never wins and death is defeated. That doesn’t jive with Star Wars. It’s like in the Clone Wars, getting so attached to Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan as a unit. Nothing lasts forever in the Star Wars universe, and so the good will be balanced with the bad. Revenge of the Sith does come and unity is replaced with division.

What was so weird about this experience was that I realized how much I have changed and grown since I began watching The Mandalorian in 2020. In the break between December 2020 and March 2023, I became a different person and my life took a different shape. My wants for my life and my eyes for the world have been transformed by the Word of God and I found myself arguing in my head with the writers of The Mandalorian for their storytelling choices to continue the story arc of loss and suffering for these characters I truly love. But what I was arguing for in my head would not make the tale of Star Wars authentic anymore. It is the way it is for a reason.

But that is the point I was missing, it is a story and not real life, and the loss and suffering are not real. Because it is a story, it is teaching us something, communicating something. I think the key I was missing was that the characters of the Star Wars universe are fighters, they keep going when they are outnumbered.

They fight against the odds and choose to persevere when it doesn’t make sense to keep trying. That is a good thing.

We too easily give up on life when the hard things come. We are too easily discouraged by the fight ahead and do not show up with the heart to continue pressing on. I admire that kind of courage! I desire that kind of strength and perseverance. We are reminded by the story of Star Wars to never lose the rebel spirit and that is what makes the story so good. This is the way.

April 17, 2023