After the Fire and Grace Retreat with Gina Hatzis and Rina Rovinelli, both viral sensations –  I had a BREAKTHROUGH of epic proportions in regards to owing my story, standing on top of it instead of in it- to make a commitment to show up and write every single day.

Even when it was fromon my crummy old phone that needs an upgrade, without my glasses, in a hotel room, in the dark, as my children snored in the adjacent bed and let out a bark when i moved and even on Christmas Day – without excuse.

The last week I’ve been have had a relapse in my lupus and everything hurts – BUT I’m still typing….

I’m not trying to say that writing or speaking with words in the only way to heal – but one must allow their stories speak or their body will do it for them and the price is costly!

By speak I mean, allowing it to exist somewhere, anywhere, that is not in your mind.

Whether that’s with a counsellor, a whisper into the universe, art, yoga, exercise, cross fit, painting, vision boards, singing or dancing in your kitchen Or blogging  – let it OUT.

I’m not saying this to address the importance of commitment ( I’ve failed that big one and a few others too )

Or to show up daily on your timeline, sometimes multiple times a day and think “ Damn girl…Chill.” Or “ Please don’t make me think too hard till I get home. I prefer to cry at home but im starting to wonder why I try so hard to hide being an empath.” …. I was asked to post before 6 am and after 6 pm, for this reason.

I don’t want anyone struggling to feel like where they are in their journey, should be further ahead.

If you are still here today – today can be day one again…..Honestly I was looking at my Facebook memories from a few years back and realize that bit of a setback was not as minor as I thought.

I’m not trying to suggest I have answers, answers generally only bring me to more questions!

I’ve simply taken my education, the years of work in mental health and the community, the 11 years I owned and operated a treatment children’s residence for crown wards, that couldn’t be placed in traditional foster or group homes ( we were anything but traditional – again whatever the hell that means). The 15 years I spent as house mother and just another one of the many wives of Wenlock ( that’s a bestseller right there – sometimes reality is stranger than fiction.) And of course, my LIVED EXPERIENCE, which tops all the others combined!

My goal is to offer fresh ideas, a different perspective, open the floor to discuss really hard things, and ensure everyone a seat at the table.

Our world has become so divisive,

I have stopped being a bystander standing in the corner and get out into the ring, to have a rationale and respect conversation.

I think we have forgotten, that we don’t have to believe everything our neighbor believes, to believe in each other! ( read that again )

Be kind and openminded and we just may learn something….

We are all human – imperfectly perfected, that way, perhaps for a reason, so we can grow, evolve, change and transform.

I had very smart business people given opposing views on success.

“ Carve put a niche – focus on mental health or women’s issues but not both.”

OR

“ Don’t form a niche market!” Don’t talk about spirituality or faith – it oppresses women. And I don’t disagree that religion has done that. But if I cannot share, how I healed, if it involves a very liberal view of the parables or the New Testament or any other ancient or sacred texts of wisdom or insight, passed down for centuries; is that not ALSO being oppressive?

For the first time, outside of the kitchen, I’ve broken the rules and not followed a recipe.

I’m leading with my heart and in 5 weeks, my little trauma queen community has grown exponentially-  people need a safe place to talk about hard things and most importantly, feel heard.

The mission clear and yet so expansive – it’s transects everything – REDEFINING NORMAL.

Everyone is welcome, regardless of gender, religion, sexual orientation, social class, marital, relationship or income status – trauma affects us ALL- it does not discriminate, nor do I…

I simply opened a door, and allowed everyone to pull up a chair and contribute to a conversation.

They are diverse – from Physicans and therapists ( we even have someone really important using an alias – I was allowed to say that ) to waiters and homemakers.

We are all service providers at the end of the day – NO one sits at the head of the table – especially not me.

I sent out a call into the universe – come as you are, bring your stories, your situation, your broken hearts, your tears, your sick AF dark humor, your alter egos, your inner critic and any one of your friends – the more the merrier!

That same sign “ the more the merrier” has hung in the entrance way to my home since my first house in 1992. I meant it then, and I mean it more even now.

Ironically, it’s in our stories which are often quite painful that we find the heart of CONNECTION!

Something that seems so lost these days, behind social media and divisiveness that often masquerades as inclusion!

Our world does not need more tolerance.

It needs more empathy!

It needs us to take a step back and put ourselves in another’s situation, before we ever conclude what we never would do.

Everyone who has ever said “ not me” has learned the hard way, that’s a fallacy.

I’m not Marianne Williamson or Brené Brown or Oprah or Ellen or Glennon Doyle or Reese Witherspoon or Mary Magdalene or any one of my heros!

I don’t claim to be… though I would LOVE to meet them and say THANK YOU!

And all though I can only aspire to write with the likes of Sylvia Plath or Sally Brampton, I don’t want my words to be recognized after suicide – that is NOT how my story will end. However  the tragedy that theirs did and so many others do every single day to trauma and depression, never escapes me. Not once.

I just made a commitment to SHOW UP just as I am, with the fantasy that “ if you build it they will come” and every day I bust my butt to be my truest highest version of myself; while never ever forgetting what it felt like to fall through rock bottom’s trap door.

I welcome everyone with arms open wide, hoping that others will join me in lifting a soul up.