In 2018, the light went out in my life. My beautiful, intelligent, loving Mother passed away.
Things will never be the same without her.
2019 was about recognizing this new chapter without her.
Unexpectedly, a phrase began to reverberate in my life: who cares?
Getting a raise, being selected to speak, a paper published.
who cares?
Pulling my hamstring, getting a ticket, catching a cold.
who cares?
I saw Lizzo in concert, danced in public for the third year in a row, traveled to Croatia, and even made some major life decisions.
who cares?
Obviously I care but no longer did I have someone who was as excited about my life as I was. Who could feel the pain I felt almost as I did myself, or more as she often claimed.
In some ways, this is very isolating. Sure, I have a loving father, family, partner, and friends but it’s not the same nor should it be.
Yet in other ways, it’s oddly freeing. My mother embued a lot of independence in me but it was hard to escape thinking”what would your mother think” when facing daring choices. How many times I put on a dress, only to remind myself to “cover-up”, or not and think “she would”. Trust, it still happens. I often find myself looking towards the skies, even saying out loud, “Okay, Mama. I get it.”
2019 was about surviving. 2020, I’m feeling ready to start living again.
With her still at my side, albeit not on this plane; I am trying with all my might to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I couldn’t imagine the difficulty she and my father went through deciding for me to have bariatric surgery at 16. The struggles with the insurance company and having to change their lives to accommodate my new reality.
I dedicate this site to her, a woman unafraid to do whatever takes for her self and her family. Regardless of what others thought.
I still have so much to learn from her.