I seem to only blog when thing are good in life. I don’t like writing about sad or uncomfortable things. But I’m going to do it anyway.

The thing is, although a lot of good things have happened to me in the past year, there have also been some not-so-good things that I omitted from my last post summing up my year.

Josh left me.
Almost a year ago now. It was last April.

I have kept it hidden for the most part. I didn’t even say it on Facebook until a few weeks ago. I only told my very close friends and my family. I suppose it has taken it this long for me to admit it to myself.

It has been a really difficult year. I guess that goes without saying. I also learned a lot about myself, though. Turning 30 as a newly single woman was not exactly what I had in mind. I have a really good feeling about my 30’s though. I have journeyed up the career ladder, I am learning to play the guitar, and I have finally learned to be honest and kind with myself.

When Josh left, I was upset for a while, thinking that I was out of control. You see, I like to be in control. Of everything. But it taught me an important lesson. And although it may seem cliche, I needed to do what made me happy. If life isn’t making you happy, only you have the power to change it.

I have enjoyed my freedom. I am free to make my own choices without affecting anyone else. I am free to do exactly what I want with my life. I am free.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for those people who stuck by me and helped me through this difficult time. It took me almost a year but I think I am finally starting to see the light on the other side.

It has become a tradition for me to reflect on my year in blog/picture form. Amidst all of the gimmicky social media Facebook and Instagram things, this is my little piece of me.

It has been a rough year, but I think overall I reigned victorious.

If you want, you can also check out my posts from previous years:
2013: What a long, strange trip it’s been.
2012: What a long, strange trip it’s been.
2011: What a long, strange trip it’s been.
2010: What a long, strange trip it’s been.

Continue reading »

Here is a story for you.

My parents were always honest with me. They told me right from the beginning that I was adopted. In my little kid brain, I just assumed that something like half the kids are adopted and half of all kids grew in their moms’ bellies.

Moving along. Now I’m in third grade. Gym class. Girls’ locker room. Somehow the topic of adoption comes up in conversation. I think nothing of it and tell them all proudly that I am adopted. I am teased. I realise quickly that not one other girl in my class is adopted. At lunchtime I ask all the boys. None of them are adopted either.

I was angry. I felt like I had been lied to by my parents. I was different. I was not normal. Being different is bad in elementary school. The whole day, I was teased by the kids in my class. They told me that my real parents didn’t love me. Something was obviously wrong with me or they would have kept me.

Real parents? My parents were my real parents. What were they talking about?

I went home furious. At the mean little school kids. At my “real parents.” At my parents. How could they adopt me and do this to me?

My mom asked me how my day was.


She asked why. There was always something dramatic going on, but I don’t know if she was ready for this.

“Mom! Who else in my school is adopted?”

She tried very hard but couldn’t actually think of anyone else.

I demanded answers: “MOM! If Ms. White (the principal) told everyone in the school who is adopted to go stand on one side of the cafeteria and everyone who is not adopted to go to the other side of the cafeteria, do you mean to tell me I’d be ALL ALONE?!”

My mom didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, my little sister was listening. She was confused. She decided to butt in at this point. “Well no. I’d be there, too!”


She said it so nonchalantly that I couldn’t help but smile. Even in the third grade I realised that I wasn’t alone. I had a kickass family. We stuck by each other no matter what. That’s what family is. I wasn’t angry anymore. I will always remember that day: the only day in my life that I wasn’t sure I liked being adopted. And it didn’t last very long.

Being adopted is awesome.