So, that’s why they call it chemistry?

Hello friends, glad to have you back & happy to have you here/hear.

In my previous post I referenced some pretty heavy moments- suicidal ideations, depression, and lack of functioning. If you thought it was a lot reading it, imagine living it (I’m sure some of you can).  I am happy to report that within this last week it has been a lot more tame and stable. I’ve felt alert and present and able to complete daily tasks. Life seems more manageable. Thank yeezy for that, because I was not ready to handle another week of that.

This past week, while much easier to handle, was still full of moments I thought about sharing with you all. I had a lot of processing time, friend time, down time, bachelor nation time, and dating apps time. You may find yourself more interested in some of those things over other things on that list. I could go on for hours about the most recent bachelor season, but I won’t bore those of you not interested in it. To sum up my opinions though- they all suck, including Peter. Let’s wrap it up…

Speaking of one loser dating a bunch of people- this week I want to to discuss my dive back into dating. It’s what I get the most requests for, so I shall oblige the masses. I also like that I am being really ballsy and jumping back into dating during mercury retrograde. What an adventure. I had made it a personal goal to not date until after February, but you know, V Day came and I was like let’s just see, which then turned into scheduling dates. It all happened so fast. **Not really, I knew exactly what I was doing, so whatever. My main goal with taking a break was to clear my head and stop feeling so bogged down. I was ghosted twice in December and it took a toll. It is not cool to be ghosted during your birthday month. There should be a rule against it. But while I was treating myself on Valentines day, I thought you know what, I’m ready to get back out there and jump back on the ol’ dating horse. The wind blew, as I wrapped myself in my sheer sweater on the beach porch, just a single, 40 year old, divorcee, ready to date again. Sorry, went into my own little romcom there. Let’s get back to reality.

Because in reality, this is not a romcom at all. It would be like if a romcom removed all the rom, and only included com – that is how I would describe dating on the apps. The good news is though, that I am a big fan of comedy. Messages about my figure tend to take the lead. “MMM love those curves,” appear in bold letters, like it’s supposed to make me what? Drop my pants for them? I screenshot for my friends and occasionally insta and then don’t engage. Second funniest dudes are the ones who like to say hello and then nothing else for 4 months. Not exactly a ghoster because I didn’t invest any time in them, but like what are you doing? Why did you say hello? So mysterious, so funny. Then there are the people that literally didn’t read anything on my profile and ask me everything about what is already there. “So, where do you work?” Bro, it’s literally the first piece of info on there. Less funny, more annoying. This now leaves like 2 people who I actually have a conversation with. Eventually we meet and then we mutually decide if we want to keep meeting or play the disappearing act. Ooh, maybe it’s comedy and some mystery, a commyst™ if you will.

Like I said, I oddly love it. Not just the comedy of it all, but the whole meeting new humans and figuring this all out. Don’t quote me on this if in a year I’m still on the apps and it isn’t working and I am ded. Truly, my favorite part of the apps are the first few month or so. I’m just so full of hope and my grade A detective skills back online. Full systems go. No, I don’t mean detective work like stalking their social media, I mean in the sense of who they are and who they are in reference to me.

Each date, each person I meet or talk with, I learn more about myself. What I want and don’t want. I also just love meeting new people. I am the type on the apps (because everyone is a different type) to be like ‘lets meet up ASAP’. Yes, I am that girl. I want real conversation and I want it right away. You would be amazed by how many people are great at texting and not so great at talking and vice versa. Plus, I’ve seen catfish. Don’t even try to play me like that. Little tip for those in the same app boat, I highly recommend the coffee date. It’s the easiest, most low-key way to get to know people. One hour, over yummy drinks, without alcohol impairing judgement. Plus, to me it feels like a lot less pressure. It’s not this big formal date I have to dress up for. I’m getting coffee with a potential friend. Because what is a partner if not a friend that you also do romantic stuff with? (romantic = sex)

Even as I am writing this I am realizing the change in mindset I have had since taking my break. I’m trying to look at dating as more experimental than definitive. I am molecule A and I am adding different molecules to my equation until I find one that seems to make sense. Ya know, I really loved chemistry as a kid, so this is all making a lot of sense to me. Woah, is that why they call it having chemistry. What a lightbulb moment. I love when things just seem to come together.

I guess all of this is to say that we humans put a lot of pressure on ourselves all the time. Do this, don’t do this, feel this way, don’t feel this way and I just want to call some bullsh*t on it. Do I want to find someone special that I want to spend the rest of my life with, I don’t f****ing know. I don’t even know what I am doing this weekend, I’m not really interested in thinking about a lifetime. I don’t even know how long my lifetime is. Do I want to find a friend to do romantic stuff with who only wants to do that romantic stuff with me (still talking about sex)- yeah, I do. Am I over feeling bad that I don’t have that yet- absolutely. Which is precisely why I chose the featured image that I did: That feeling can kiss my a**.

To the ones that already have it, I hope it is a friend that you feel safe and healthy with. To the ones that don’t have it, I hope that you feel safe and healthy with yourself and try not to let society tell you that you’re doing it wrong, or that you need to be with someone, or that you need to feel a certain way. You’re doing great and you are exactly where you supposed to be right now. Be easy on yourself… and maybe review your chemistry notes from high school, could find something useful in there.

Oh, and if anyone, yourself included, is mean to you, tell them to kiss your a**. And that’s advice for everyone.

A[wo]men

 

Black History Month’s featured Black Artist:

“‘I woke up in this
In my skin
I can’t wash it away, so you can’t take it from me
My brown skin”

Melissa Jefferson (Lizzo), My Skin

My Skin was released by Lizzo in 2015 on her album Big Grrrl Small World. Lizzo is a fierce advocate for people and her song My Skin was born out of the desire to stand up against racial profiling. She has also made a lot of strides in fat activism often referring to body positivity in her music. Her references to self-love were a major influence in my life as soon as I listened to her. She has this way of making me feel beautiful in any light. No matter what I am doing, when Lizzo comes on my playlist it feels like she is a friend, telling me not to talk down to myself- ever. And lest us not forget that Lizzo, the queen, is single.

P.S. Excited to bring you our upcoming brave and honest story teller next week. She’s been through a lot and has a learned a lot along the way. I hope you come back to read her beautiful story.

P.P.S Yes, that is my butt.

Diving into Love

C/W suicidal ideations

Welcome back, loves. Glad to be here, even if only 5 days ago I would not have said that. Went through a small spout of depression this week. The bad kind. The kind where I could barely get out of bed, brushing my teeth was considered a victory, and the idea of disappearing sounded more ideal than anything else. Haven’t felt that down in a long time. Luckily, the feeling didn’t stick around too long and I am out on the other side.

While it was hard to be in that state, I did get to reflect on some pretty cool self improvements. First, I recognized what was happening. I didn’t try to pretend it wasn’t there or act like I couldn’t explain it. It was a feeling I knew well and I jumped in. I thrust my body off of the diving board, gracefully crashing to the bottom of the pool. Second, when I hit the water and was gasping for air, I listened to that. My body told me to breathe and I took long, deep breaths. It said rest, so I laid on the couch all day on Sunday. It said eat, so I ate. It said don’t eat, so I didn’t eat. It said take a walk, and I took a walk. That is a huge improvement. In the past, I felt as though I couldn’t trust my body; my body was the enemy. If my body said eat, I would say “why are you trying to make me fat?” A gross statement in and of itself. Now, when my body says eat, I say “what are we craving? What type of fuel do we need?” What a relief to find trust in my body. Finally, I didn’t let it hang around too long. I had previously wrote a post about needing to fight. That we need to fight when things don’t feel worth fighting for anymore. This is where listening to your body can get a little complicated, because if I let it my body could stay under water for a very long time. It’s easier to not kick and just stare up at the surface through the water seeing a blur of what life used to look like. It’s safe down there. But see, I had to kick because my body also screamed for air. That line is understanding desire vs need. I spent a few days below the surface before breaking through- pushing my legs and arms as hard as I could to in order to reach the surface. What did that look like in reality as opposed to this diving metaphor?

It was crying and telling myself that all things change. It was saying that this feeling, as hard as it is to feel, will indeed change. It was saying that this is not how I want to live. It was hiding under that covers and then coming out from under the covers. It was going to work, after 1100 ‘snoozes’ of the alarm.  It was doing things one step at a time. It was everything I could muster. It was reaching out for help; it was me telling my friends I’m drowning. (Can’t seem to escape the swim metaphors *shoulder shrug emoji*.)

At one point, I started to feel like a burden. That is a sign for me that I am reaching the lowest place, the place that is hard to come back from. The place with suicidal ideations. I had to repeat to myself that I am not a burden and that people love me. I was sitting in the dark, my arms wrapped around myself, fighting that feeling when all of the sudden there was a bright light in my face. My best friend was calling me. I picked up sobbing into the phone. She said her “best friend spidey senses were tingling”. She knew I need her more than I realized I needed her. We talked on the phone for a couple of hours. When I first answered I was crying, barely able to breathe, feeling like I couldn’t go on. By the end of the conversation I couldn’t remember why I was upset to begin with. It was like my soul had been restored. A simple conversation from a friend who sat there with me and said “I wish I could do or say something, but all I can say is I love you.” The thing is… that was all I needed. I needed to be reminded that I am loved, I am loving, and I am lovable.

Which brings me to the point of this post. I know, it was a really lengthy way of getting here, but I am dramatic and had to build it up. But seriously, it’s that time of the year. If you’re sitting there confused, I’ll fill you in. LOVE TIME aka Valentines Day aka hallmarks holiday. This Friday is that day that romance gets shoved into our faces and us single folx are reminded that we are not in a relationship. Okay, that may have sounded a little bitter, but honestly I am not bitter about it. I love Valentines Day.  When people ask me why (which is just rude, tbh) I always respond with “why would anyone hate a holiday that celebrates love!” I mean I know why, but I LOVE love. Yeah, I’m annoying like that. Every year I make a point to celebrate the love I have for myself. This year I am treating myself to some takeout and a bikini wax! I also believe I owe myself extra because last year I spent the day crying into my pillow because I ran into my ex with another girl. Gotta make up for that disaster. I think I see a massage in my near future.

This year though, I want to make it a point to celebrate even more love. This year, I want to remind the people that I love that I love them, because Valentines day isn’t just about your romantic partners- it’s about having a day dedicated to reminding the important people in your life that you care. My friends, as is evident from the story above, are life saving humans. My family lifts me up and gives me so much support. This type of love, well, its unlike any other. It gives me power to get through feelings of suicide that can lead to me forgetting I was even having those feelings in the matter of two hours.

I refuse to be bitter on a day about love because I am luckily enough to be surrounded by it. That is a gift I will never take for granted. When I was sitting in the dark, crying, asking someone to make the pain stop I got that prayer answered. I am pleading with you this year, for Valentines day, celebrate all the people you love. Pick up the phone and call your friends, family, dog, neighbor. Spread it around like it is bursting out of you. You may just answer someones prayer.

And I know one day isn’t enough, we must say it continually. So, staying on theme, I am just going to dive right in: I love you, my dear reader.

A[wo]men

Black History Month’s featured Black Artist:

“Everything want to be loved. Us sing and dance and holler, just trying to be loved.”

Alice Walker, The Color Purple

Published in 1982, The Color Purple focuses on the life of a black women in America the 1930’s. Alice Walkers way of writing is done in a way that nothing else matters while I am reading her material. The book was also adapted into film and a broadway show. I saw the broadway show and it was hands down the best performance I have seen thus far. I cried… hard. Alice Walker herself is a brilliant mind that graduated valedictorian from her high school. She grew up struggling with personal difficulties and would find comfort in writing poetry and reading. The Color Purple was one of the first books I read when I started reading for pleasure (I was a late bloomer in that aspect). It will always hold a special place in my heart.

Jessie Foss: Single & Thriving

Hi all and welcome to the second post from another brave and honest story teller. This months story is one that hits close to home for me and to anyone that’s done the dreaded dating in the 21st century, but before I get there, let’s start at the beginning, shall we.

Our story teller this week is Jessie Foss. I met Jessie when I was working at my first job out of undergrad. I was young and scared shitless. *Enter Jessie my postgrad-work friend-angel* The program I worked for was under an AmeriCorps grant called BuildingOpportunities which operated out of Workforce Connections, Inc. which is where Jessie worked. I didn’t start working with Jessie right away. Our original building was actually off site, so I only went in to bother her when I needed gas cards. She was always nice and gave me what I needed, but the interactions lasted no more than five minutes.

Then, my position changed in the company and I moved into the main building. Jessie recalls the excitement too. See, me and Jessie had a passion that saved us from the 9-5 office jobs in which we were sitting. Just what was that passion, you ask? The Bachelor. It was literally our saving grace being able to talk about the farmer from Iowa who was the actual worst, but also had the most dramatic season according to Chris Harrison circa 2015.

“I always love it when you can connect with somebody at work over ridiculous things… so yeah, yeah I loved having you over there that we could just talk about dumb stuff like that” she joked.

It really did save us because the other thing we had in common was a real struggle with the boss. One of my favorite memories of Jessie was when I posted a blog about how my boss called me naive and I cried in the bathroom. I remember her reaching out to me that night, or maybe the next morning, and just giving me the support I needed. It never ceases to amaze me how close I can become with my ‘work friends’ even if we never talk outside of the office. These are the people that get you through the tough meetings, the long days, and the mean bosses. Jessie was that person for me. 

I hadn’t talked to Jessie much since I left that job except for the occasional message about The Bachelor, but as soon as we started talking it was like we never left that office building. We Facetimed as she entertained her pup, Carver, who is the literal cutest, like longtime friends would do.

She was on her couch in standard Sunday attire, the cozies I like to call them, with her hair looking fabulous as it always does. She has this amazing curly hair that I have pure jealousy over and a nose ring that I wish I was cool enough to pull off. Jess was just as bubbly as I remember her too. We pretty much laughed our way through the entire interview. Jess does some of her own freelance writing for the Coulee Region Women’s Magazine with her own hopes to write a book one day which I have no doubt that she will get done. She is a determined individual who knows what she wants and is not afraid to go after it which you will understand as her story unfolds. After the walk down memory lane, I just dove right into it:

“And so as far as the story goes… for my first interview I just kind of said ya know, is there a story that you want to tell or had in mind? Like what were you thinking of for your story?” I asked.

“…One of the things that resonated with me that you recently wrote was about the dating burnout. It’s so real. Like so real.”

This was the story I didn’t know I needed. Everything Jess said I resounded with a hard “yes, exactly.” She sat in her truth of being a 37 year-old woman who was still putting herself out there and trying her best to figure out what she wants while also feeling completely exhausted by everything dating entails. I think my favorite part of the interview was how confident she sat in this truth knowing that she was doing what she needs to do for herself. I often talk to people about dating and it is typically coated in this sad overlay of just wanting to be wanted. Jess, like most humans, wants to have a partner and be with someone and she also knows the things she does not want. (Funny enough, off the road truckers are something she definitely does not want. She’s not sure why because they make decent money, but it’s just an automatic no. Along with anyone that lists the school of life or hard knocks for their education. LOL Automatic ‘no’s’ for me include dead animals in a pic and people that write nothing. I’m sure both of our lists could go on.) Honestly, the whole conversation was filled, not with sadness, but that of like ‘I just want people to know what it is like to be in this situation and stop giving me bad advice or making me feel bad for my approach.’ She was essentially saying, this is me on my own “journey for love” (to quote our fav show) and if you could just let me be my own leading lady that would be great.

One thing I think we both want to shout from the rooftops to our well-meaning and at times hurtful friends is the saying that ‘if you stop looking, that’s when you’ll find love.’ Jess responded to this best when she said “I find [that] to be such crap too. Shut up. I just want to punch people a lot of times. I’m very crabby about it… I hate it because, I’m like, it makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong by putting effort into something thats important to you.” We get what you are saying, we really do. Except you really, really don’t get what she is saying. If you haven’t been single for a long time or haven’t dated in this century you don’t know what it is like. What your single friend really wants is for you to just listen and actually just keep the advice to yourself.

The conversation from there went on to talk about the people we have met in the process and the not-so-great-dates we have been on- Dudes that just up and ghost, to people that have no idea how to communicate, to the person that is DTF (down to f***, as Jess learned from her google search the first time someone sent it to her). Honestly, we talked about how scary it is to date right now. Online, you could be talking to anyone. We’ve seen every episode of catfish, okay? We know how it works.

I agreed with her ideas of safety and said “I think it has to be like a balance, like protect yourself, and also be open, and it’s a hard balance to find.”

She responded saying “I don’t think I’ve found that yet.”

Truthfully, I don’t think any of us have. What is the right amount of openness? How much do we share and how much do we hold back. How long until we can confirm the person on the other side of the screen isn’t a murderer, or married, or has 11 toes? I, for sure, don’t know. I have a whole blog about my life on the internet. Do I share it with my Bumble matches or do I keep it to myself? They could very easily find it with a simple instagram search I suppose. I preach openness, but I also don’t know where to draw the line sometimes.

Which is how we landed on the topic of the profile– it starts the whole connection in the first place. What to write, who am I trying to portray, is this picture sexy enough for someone to like, but not too sexy for them to know I wait a few dates before I’m DTF? IT IS A BIG DEAL. Jess has this dream of just “[putting] your worst pictures and like what you’re really like on a daily basis. Im probably gonna be a little bitchy sometimes… [and] if your gonna waste my time, my emotions, you’re not serious about this, like swipe left. Otherwise I’m cool.” Jess, I fully support this profile idea. I think the honesty and bravery revolution should filter into the online dating sphere. One hundred percent here. for. it.

We then talked about the part of the story that Jess really wants to take to her future book which will be titled “Your Last Single Friend”. She talked about what is like to be 37 and single and how this plays a role in her search. She said that it sometimes gets to her that she doesn’t have a partner that can take care of her during her upcoming surgery or be there after work, but the real struggle is “not having anybody else that relates to your life. Like that’s always hard. You don’t have that person to reach out to because [they] get it.”

And this is exactly what this blog is about. It’s about the connection that comes from sharing, because I know Jess isn’t my last single friend. I know people older, younger, and the same age that just haven’t found that person or person(s). I am also finding that more and more people are working to not settle, to find relationships that are meaningful and feel right. She mentioned the old adage if they are a certain age, then there must be a reason they are single. The more I think about this, the more I think that people are single because we aren’t falling for the stupid tricks society is feeding us. No matter the age, we aren’t just getting into relationships just for the heck of it. Jess wants someone that will go to church with her, likes dogs, communicates, and is preferably a male nurse. I see this in her future because she knows what she wants and she is not going to settle. We’ve seen the failed relationships, the abuse, the poor communication, the heartache and we are not here to continue that cycle. I think Jess and people like her are the people that remind me that I am doing exactly what I want to be doing and when I meet a person that I want to give more time and energy to, great. And until then they will go down in the bank of bad dates that I share with all my other single friends, who are out there relating to that content wholeheartedly.  

A[wo]men & Jessie Foss

I want to thank Jessie for sharing her story and being so brave and honest with me about what it is like to be 37, single, and thriving. If you or someone else you know has a story that they would like to share please fill out the contact information on this page. And if you are single and want to send some love and support to the rest of us single humans, well that is just always appreciated.

Kitty Sopow: The Wish

Imagine you’re a child sitting in a field of grass; you see a dandelion and your eyes perk up. As you pluck it from the base of the earth, you think of the one thing you wish for most in the world. What was that young you thinking of? What did you whisper to yourself as you blew the seeds into space to take on a new life? 

For Kitty Sopow it was always the dream of her parents getting back together.

This week we will be exploring the brave and honest story from my dear friend, Kitty.

I met Kitty in a Target in Anchorage, which is strange because neither of us lived in Anchorage and neither of us lived in a Target, although it sometimes feels like it. Kitty had known my then boyfriend through Skype calls as they worked together on a project. As we were strolling down the aisle I remember him squinting his eyes and saying to me ‘I think I know her’. Then he said it to her, “I think I know you”. I remember looking at Kitty and thinking ‘damn… she’s cool.’ She had punk rock hair, 70’s fashion glasses, with printed leggings and an oversized sweatshirt on. She had a huge grin on her face as she finally got to meet her friend outside of the screen. I lingered back from the conversation, as shy people often do, trying to not embarrass myself in front of the cool kid.

“Kitty, what were your first impressions of me?”

“I could tell.. you were like ‘something is wrong with this bitch!’”

“HA All I kept thinking is… this girl is a badass!”

“WHAT?!?”

This is where I like to begin because this is where Kitty and I began. And, as I’ve learned many times in my life, first impressions are often *pardon my language* total shit. She said she thought I didn’t like her. She thought I was assessing her, trying to figure out if she was into my boyfriend or not. She shared that when she first moved to the island in Alaska for the summer, which is how we became closer than a Target meet and greet, she thought I was a “wet blanket”. RUDE. To be fair, she only knew me for five seconds and thought I was scared she was into my boyfriend- I can’t hold that against her. We all do it. Another commonality among the human race. And so, this was where our story began: Through thoughts not discussed, but impacting the relationship regardless.

As we continued on the with the interview, agreeing that we were closer friends by overcoming our preconceived ideas, I started to find a common theme- often the things we don’t talk about are creating the biggest impact in our relationships.

“Why do you want to tell your story? 

“Well, ya know, I want to support you. And I’m always the one recording stories, so [I thought] it would be kinda nice to reverse the rolls…”

Kitty just graduated with a Masters of Science in Applied Anthropology in August of 2019. This degree is what brought her to Klawock, Alaska and into my life. For her thesis she wrote about subsistence on Prince of Wales. She interviewed people about the role subsistence plays in their lives. I spent many nights with Kitty hearing her talk about her interviews and would see the way she lit up when she became a part of someones story. In a way, I think she influenced me to start this project of telling other peoples stories. Seeing the way she became so involved and immeshed in each persons way of life was intoxicating.

“What do you like about your role as the interviewer?” I asked. 

“You know, you just sit in silence and people just tell you what’s important to them and I think that’s really cool.” 

Kitty, still airing that ‘cool girl’ vibe even today, is sitting on her bed, morning hair falling every which way, as she paints her toenails a merlot red. Oversized boxer shorts and a fitted tank top sets the tone for an ‘I woke up like this’ conversation.

“So [Kitty] the other part of today, obviously, is talking about a story that you have that you feel like might connect with other people… Do you have a story in mind?”

This is where I started to see a different side of Kitty. Her words became a little more rushed than normal and I could feel her energy shift from confident to unsure. The cool-girl vibe still lingered but mixed with a story that she has been holding in for some time. 

“Can I cry while I tell you.. I think I know a story I want to tell…” 

Her eyes were watering and her voice began to shake. She took a deep breath in.

“When I was a kid, there were dandelions all over the place, obviously in the spring. And uh, and my Aunt told me if I picked one up and blew, when all the whispers went away in one blow your dream/wish would come true. And they would always say that stupid wish would come true, like, if you wish on the first star that you saw or, or like, *sniffles* you blew all your birthday cake candles out in one blow your wish would come true, but I never could… and for years all I did was wish my parents would get back together. And yeah… sometimes I sit here and I forget that for years I would just oh, I would wish so hard every night when I’d see a star, every year on my birthday, or every f****ing single breath in the spring I would wish that. And they never got back together and so… I would go from like being at my dads house with my step-mom who hated me, to going to my moms house with my step-dad who we hated.”

I could tell this was something she didn’t talk about often. This was a story that came through with most of her relationships, both platonic and not, but was never said out loud. It felt as though Baby Kitty was sitting across from me, still just wishing on her flowers, candles, stars and now blog posts for the miracle of a family that didn’t know the word ‘divorce’. I know she isn’t alone. I’ve sat with friends, clients, partners, you name it, who all dreamed of different family dynamics. My parents never got divorced, but I remember when things would get bad, using some of my own wishes on a desire to feel like the Brady Bunch. I didn’t talk about it for a long time though. Blood is thicker than water, therefore, it is easier to drown in. As Kitty took her deep breaths between sentences, it felt like she was working her way up to the surface. With each word that left her lips, the heaviness seemed to start lifting. She was no longer holding in the story that held her under for so long.

Kitty was coming up for air in front of my eyes. 

Kitty went on with how this whole situation impacted her choices moving forward. She, like a lot of kids that have difficult relationships with their families, learned to be independent. She knew as soon as she could leave their care she would; her ambitions fueled by the desire to be done with needing her family. That mentality, however, started to feel a bit bit blurry when she got the news that takes over much of the space in her mind today. 

“I was just like thinking you know, wow, like I spent years just thinking about that one wish, ya know? Now it’s just weird because well my moms got breast cancer… and I had to call my dad and tell him. And it was like, I’ve know for a long time that my moms had cancer like at first she had skin cancer, then had cervical cancer, and now its in her breasts and lymph nodes and my dad didn’t know any of this… and he was like ‘Oh, thanks for telling me.’ And I just thought that was, like, just weird. It’s so weird. What’s really weird, okay, is so my dad’s mom also has cancer. Everyone else knew that my mom had cancer but my dad didn’t and it was just weird. ‘Oh yeah dad, sorry, you’re the last one to know my moms had cancer for like a year… And its like, you know, I know my dad at one point had to have feelings for my mom… so, like, I wonder what he is thinking?… his mom has cancer, his ex wife now has cancer, I wonder if he’s thinking ‘oh my daughter is going to get cancer.’

As she said this sentence I could feel my body start to heat up, because all I could hear in that sentence was ‘oh, is my friend going to get cancer?’ My friend, that was so rawly telling me about the difficult childhood she had and her family’s battle with cancer, and the person that was there for me in some of my darkest times, would I see the day that she get’s sick? I tried to let the thought pass through, not letting it derail the conversation. 

She continued on about this strange dynamic that now existed and then it hit me, was my friend sitting there also wondering if she was going to get cancer? 

“You know [Kitty] you mentioned your dad wondering if you were going to get cancer, but is that something you’re thinking about?”

“I think so. I always thought I was going to die from suicide or cancer,” she shared as she was laughing through her nose.

Kitty uses laughter as a way to cope with the dark things in her life. It is something that I love the most about her. She continued to make jokes throughout the interview, saying things like “my mom is the one-percenter of breast cancer, so bow down, she is a one-percenter.” When I lived with Kitty we would spend hours laughing at everything we could. We would talk about our suicidal ideations like it was going to be the kickstart for our stand-up shows. No matter the topic we find a way to laugh together. But the good thing about knowing Kitty, even more after this interview, is that I know that between the laughs there are deep, deep pains that spill out with hard crying. This interview was no different, oscillating between laughter and tears. I could feel her pain and I could feel her trying to cope with that pain. 

She went on to talk about her two siblings who have gone through the same events, but how they handled it much differently. 

Kitty talks about her family through a lens of empathy, wanting to have a deeper understanding of the choices that were made as to lessen the pain and the way it impacts her daily life. She told me about her brothers and how much it affects them. She recalled the disconnect from her older brother as he pushed away from any sort of connection, which they have now started to rebuild. Then to her younger brother, who is still working on finding himself. As she then laughs and throws in “So, yes I am the middle, obviously.” Needing to interject some more comedy to help protect herself. 

All of this disconnect and hurt with her family kept her on the move. She winded up in Alaska in August of 2012. If there is one thing that Kitty has always made clear to me, it’s that Alaska held one of the most special places in her heart. 

“And so, do you think you’ll be in Alaska forever?”

“You know, I used to think that, until my mom got sick again. I’m gonna go home for a little bit. It’s not healthy for me to be there for a long time. I haven’t been home for more than 5 days in like 7 years. Yeah, I was thinking about going home for a month.” She was quick to note that she wouldn’t be staying at her families homes, she would be renting a place, still finding ways to keep herself safe. 

It felt as though Kitty was letting go of something as the interview came to an end. She was recognizing that as we get older we can take our history and rather than let it define us we can let it inform us. Kitty still cares deeply for her family, regardless of the unfulfilled wishes from her childhood. She is there for her mom and they are all working together to get through all the ways cancer derails their lives. Her wish now transforming into one of keeping her mother alive, healthy, and married to anyone, so long as she can stick around.

Kitty, who I see as a strong, bad-ass, presented me with very real vulnerability. I felt so connected to someone I already call a close friend. Hearing her story, I was humbled by the ways I didn’t know this part of my friend. It reminded me that whether you are sitting with a complete stranger or your best friend, there are always new stories to discover, so long as you leave space for people to tell you what’s important to them.

“Okay last question for you, Kitty. Is there anything you want to recommend to people hearing your story and have experienced or are experiencing the things you have experienced?”

“Uhm, probably just self-care and mindfulness and sometimes self-care isn’t a bubble bath it’s actually getting a f****ing therapist and talking about some shit. In order to have productive self-care I think you need to know a lot about yourself… Self-care doesn’t necessarily feel good. It can honestly be the most painful thing you ever do.”

Blunt enters the screen, another coping skill she has acquired over time.  

She continues, as she exhales from a deep drag, “my mom consumes every thought of mine right now. I’ve been crying a lot lately… Here I go crying again.”

“I wish I could hug you.”

Through the tears, “I just want to say that if my mom were here she would say ‘google how to do your own breast exam. And don’t forget to get your mammogram at dat 40’ and then she would cross her arms and give you the look.” 

Sound advice, I would say.

And I would like to add, never stop wishing on anything you can. As Kitty so perfectly demonstrated, sometimes hope is all that we have to get us through a difficult time.

A[wo]men & Kitty Sopow

* Featured image gathered from story-teller (From left bottom to right bottom: Joe, Terry-mom, Kitty, Pearce-dad, Bobby)

Vows, schmows. I don’t care.

Is it hereditary?

I really don’t know.

-Divorce by Kitty Sopow

If you or someone you know is interested in having their story told please fill out the contact form located on this website.

***For more information on the story-teller, follow her on instagram @sopowart

Life Updates

Okay, folksies, I want to first and foremost apologize for my missing post last Sunday. I was travelling and honestly the thought of writing a blog post while on a ferry sounded like it would hurt my head, so I left my laptop behind in hopes that you would all forgive me. I feel like you do because my readers are kind, loving, gracious humans, right? Great now that that is out of the way I have some v. important life updates.

Number 1: My posts may become more irregular. I know this is not very convenient and I apologize for this. I am hoping to post at least once every couple of weeks, but I also don’t want to make any false promises. You’re welcome. Why is my writing going to become more irregular? I have some super exciting news! I am teaming up with my good friend and co-worker as we start work on WRITING A SHOW! This project is something my friend Beth has held onto for a very long time and one of my greatest passions is watching TV, so it just seemed like a good partnership. We started writing last night and honestly y’all, I think it could really be something. I am not going to give the deets away, but I will keep you updated on progress and such.

This project is something I have desperately needed because life has been a tad stressful these last couple of weeks. I have had two days that I just couldn’t function. I felt as though I was in a haze. I am usually pretty good at checking in with myself and figuring out what I need and that has not been happening in the last few weeks. My sister is going through some pretty tough things right now and the hardest part is knowing that I can’t be there for her. Living away from family is tough. Living away from them on an island is tougher. It is strange that as a child I used to dream of living far away, changing my name to Mia, and falling in love with a British boy. (Way to many Mary Kate and Ashley movies encouraged this). Now, as a 27 year old, I find myself calling my parents daily and crying because I am homesick. 13 year-old me wouldn’t even recognize this B. I do feel lucky though, in the sense that technology (as much as I bemoan it) gives me the ability to transport home. I can video chat, text, and call to get pieces of home that tide me over before I get to go visit again. And for those of you wondering, my sister is doing as best she can for now, she was having a tougher time than usual over the past couple of weeks. She is a tough cookie though, so I know she will make out of this battle. #fuckcancer

I also feel lucky because I have people here that are beyond supportive. The great part about working for a mental health organization is that they understand that mental health is important! (Not always though and those orgs need to get their shit together.) My supervisor encourages me to take the time I need and that makes a world of difference. I also have really solid friendships that I am forming and feel comfortable talking about the things I am going through. It feels like only a short while ago I was writing about being friendless and struggling to fit in. Now, this little/big island feels more and more like a place I could stay as each day passes. This may also be due to my other life update… I’ve started seeing someone! See, I told you life has been a little crazy. He has been incredibly supportive and helpful as I struggle with being away from my family and the work/life balance we all work to achieve. I am not going to say much more than this because as much as I am an open book, he is not, and I would like to respect that. I will say though, he makes me very happy.

Which brings me to my last life update: Work. Work is busy and fun and sad and exciting and tough and every other emotion I could think of. I am still loving it, but I am not going to lie, it is a little overwhelming. I have nightmares about my kiddos and their families constantly. I try to disengage after work, but some days are harder than others. When I was sitting in school and my teachers constantly talked about self-care and burnout in the field of Social Work I thought I was hearing what they were saying. I clearly did not. Self-care is sort of a trigger word for me now. Feeling stressed about not doing self-care, I’m pretty sure, is the opposite goal the word is looking to achieve. I’ve begun to replace it with self-compassion and that has helped. Compassion allows me to see myself as I see my clients: human. I think that is where the haze came from the last two weeks. I was avoiding the feelings I was supposed to be feeling all under the guise of self-care. I didn’t want to accept that I make mistakes or that I can have bad days or that I can’t help everyone. I am trying to be better at looking at myself as I do my clients. What strategies will help me get through today? Today I choose to do 1 minute of deep breathing, leave space for me to cry, and call my mom.

Oh and in case y’all forgot, it is Mother’s Day (quick go call your moms too!). I feel obliged to tell you all… I am not a mom, I am not pregnant, and I don’t own any pets. However, most of the mom’s I know are the mitochondria of life. (The powerhouse of the cell, for those of you forgetting your high school bio class.) I have the absolute pleasure of getting one of the best mom’s known to womankind. She does what needs to be done, sometime in sacrifice of herself. She has shown me kindness, love, and compassion. She has taught me the power in vulnerability, the strength in weakness, and how to multitask like a badass. So, I conclude this post with a poem by Nayyirah Waheed:

my

mother

was

my first country.

the first place i ever lived.

–lands

Magical Humans aka Friends

Ah, it has arrived. My least favorite of all Sundays because I have to hear the name Tom Brady 17000 times and every time I hear his name I want to punch my own face. You may be surprised to know that I LOVE sports. If you just looked at me, you would likely assume sports is not really my thing. It’s fair. I don’t exude competitive behavior. I don’t slap other peoples butts. In fact, I find that rude.  And I don’t drink milk because it gives me tummy problems, even though it’s the official drink of the Olympics. With that being said, some of my favorite heroes and sheroes of all time are Michael Jordan, Kristi Yamaguchi, Brett Favre (pre 2007), Aaron Rodgers, Jordy Nelson, Serena Williams, Simone Biles and the list goes on..

This post however, is not intended to be an all day recount of my love of sports and/or athletes, although it could probably get it’s own post entirely. Have I mentioned I love sports? Honestly, as I was sitting here thinking about what to write today, I just kept thinking about my (s)heroes. Which then of course reminded me of this board game that I play with my clients, which includes a card that ask who your hero is. Which then made me think, “Okay, what is the literal definition of hero?” *You are currently getting a look into how my brain works, scary** Turns out the definition of hero is “a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.”

I’ve got to be honest with y’all, this week has been full of a lot of intense things. I don’t want to get into the details because most of them are not my details to share. I have friends that have a lot on their plate and every time I hear a new challenge they are facing I just think about their courage… bet you can see where I am going with this. Today, I would like to write a post honoring my friends because they are my heroes and because they deserved to be recognized. And even though I love sports, I would much rather watch my friends get rings and paid billions of dollars for doing what they do. They are some of the worlds best people ever created and the greatness they bring to this world often goes unnoticed.

Life is scary right now. I am sure you have all felt it. January was like a whole year long. It’s the dead of winter and every day there is something new in the news that makes me want bury my head in the sand. I am convinced the old saying ‘when it rains it pours’ was created in the month of February because it is flooding. Every conversation I have had with my friends this week has not been light. It seems we are all going through something and I just want to reach through my phone and give them a big hug. I hope that when they read this post they can feel my hug. I want them to feel safe.

Because that is exactly what they do for me. Last week, when I wrote about my depression my friends reached out. From millions of miles away my friends took my hand and told me I was going to be okay because that is the type of people I have managed to bring into my life. Happy to report that I woke up today without the whispers of depression in my ear. Writing this post didn’t feel like a chore. It seems the cloud has lifted. I am often a skeptic when it comes to miracles, but I am telling y’all my friends are magic.

Without dragging this post out to a novel (because I could really write a whole book on the greatness of my friends), I would like to keep it short and to the point.

Dear friends,

I see you. I hear you. I love you. 

Yours truly,

Sarah