It’s about being uncomfortable, mile after boring mile. It’s about wanting, and learning, and wishing, and doing, and crawling, and sailing as we make our way. It’s about thoughts turned into words turned into actions. And sometimes it can be about lacing up a pair of pretty running shoes -- ...
Don’t ask me about my sun, my moon, my stars;
Don’t think they will teach you my triumphs and scars.
The truth you are seeking won’t come in a word.
The secrets I’m keeping will speak when I want them heard.
Don’t ask me my sign -- no, don’t ask me that yet.
I know I’m not perfect, and so perhaps it feels a little hypocritical to say Peace out to this succubus with the Coach purse. There’s a point though where my jaw is clenched, my eye is twitching, and I have to say 'Enough'.
I was told never to trust a woman with your man for five minutes. Women will sleep with your man. Women will wreck your home. Women will shatter your fairy tale romance to bits for sport. I believed this lie because I had women brazenly try to hook up with my then-husband like his gleaming ...