Coming to Boise, Collin and I only knew a handful of people who lived in the area. Luckily, we had our kids (and our co-parenting family) as our tribe to lean on for support during this transition.
After some time at my job, I got to know my coworkers pretty well and spent time with them outside of the office. We lunched, shared TMI, went to birthday parties, celebrated divorces, yoga’d, and happy hour’d. This was my “MHD” tribe.
Continue reading “a quest called tribe… (pt. two)”I realized that I was so deeply unhappy with myself that I couldn’t even look in the mirror. If I did happen to catch a glimpse of my reflection, I didn’t recognize the person staring back. I pretended not to care about my appearance after awhile, citing “#thatquarantinelife” and “#workingfromhomewithababyatoddlerapreteenandateenlife.” Though these are legitimate stressors, they are also excuses. BS excuses.
Sure, times are hard and you don’t have to be perfect, but when you start to feel disgusting in your own skin (and there’s something you can do about it, but you just don’t), there is something wrong. In my particular case, there was no one to blame but myself.
Continue reading “circle the drain… (pt. three)”