We All Have A Story- Part II

This is a follow-up to a blog I wrote in September 2012 titled "We All Have a Story." (http://thelifeofamoderndaynomad.blogspot.com/2012/09/we-all-have-story.html)

In a previous blog, after meeting and interacting with a young, homeless girl, Katie, on the streets of Chattanooga, I wrote the following words:  

I need to take the time to ask and listen. I need to learn about others and understand their stories before I just assume their situations. I need to love others as much as I love myself because I know that the love I have inside of me may make a difference in the life of someone else who doesn’t understand or know love like I do... Until then I will listen to those around me. I will understand and not assume. I will open up my mind and heart to whatever it is the world wants me to know and learn. I will share my story to those who want to know it. I will strive to make a difference in whatever ways I am destined to do so.

Since then I have thought about Katie every now and again. Sometimes I have also forgotten to have a conscious mind of the lives of others. There have been plenty of days when I think to myself: “Erin, you don’t know where they’ve been. You don’t know their story. You don’t know what life is throwing at them right now.” Yet, there have been plenty of other days when I’m oblivious, judgmental, and cruel in my thoughts towards others.

This morning during a conversation about judging others for things they may indirectly do that interfere in our own lives made me remember these words I had written so long ago. We all face challenges and need understanding from time to time, and we also all judge others for the challenges that they may be facing that we have no knowledge of and may even refuse to acknowledge. Think about it. Think about the last time you were ticked off because of something some stranger unknowingly did to you. You know: that guy who is driving crazily down the interstate, weaving in and out of traffic, trying so hard to win the race in the Nashville I-40 500, who causes several to honk, cuss, and think bad, negative thoughts which could result in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Or the woman who is fifteen minutes late boarding the plane to a flight when the other 299 passengers have been anxiously and angrily ready and waiting on her arrival only to be met with boos and dirty looks. 

Now, let’s take a minute to think about where that man racing down the interstate may be going. He may be going to meet his friends for a beer and doesn’t want to miss kick-off. He may be going to work and overslept, so he uses speed to make up for time. He may, however, be racing to the hospital because his wife of fifty years was in a life-threatening car accident and was life-flighted to Vanderbilt. Or he may be on his way to St. Thomas where his four-year old son is being treated for Leukemia, but he had to be away from him for eight hours to go to work to pay the piles of bills that still cannot be paid on time. Who knows? A good guess would be not one person in that line of cars who honked at him or gave him the old salute of the middle finger that day as he was in a hurry to get wherever he was going.

How about the woman who was late to board her flight causing the other passengers to be late to wherever they are going? She could have spent thirty extra minutes trying on seventy different outfits to only conclude she has “nothing to wear.” She may have been sucked into Farmville or Candy Crush and couldn’t pull herself away from the computer soon enough to make it to the airport in time. She may, however, be on her way to be with her sick mother who lives on the other side of the country, and before she boarded the plane, she had to get her three children dressed, packed, and carried to the designated babysitter, all by herself, of course, because her soldier husband died oversees in battle three months prior. Who knows? A good guess would be not one person on that plane who booed her as she clumsily shuffled down the narrow aisle of dirty looks and judgmental stares.

So, again I am reminded that I need to remember that everyone has a story. That story may change from day to day. That story may be more affected by one’s childhood or more affected by a specific recent event. Regardless, it is story I do not know. A story that may or may not be a good one. A story that I may never know or may never want to know because it is too heart-breaking. A story that I am not in control of or have anything to do with. The only thing that I am in control of is my actions, thoughts, and love towards others. I can choose to judge, or I can choose to take my own advice: 

I need to take the time to ask and listen. I need to learn about others and understand their stories before I just assume their situations. I need to love others as much as I love myself because I know that the love I have inside of me may make a difference in the life of someone else who doesn’t understand or know love like I do... Until then I will listen to those around me. I will understand and not assume. I will open up my mind and heart to whatever it is the world wants me to know and learn. I will share my story to those who want to know it. I will strive to make a difference in whatever ways I am destined to do so.

I challenge you to think about this as well. Think about it the next time you see a homeless man on the streets who is too proud to take a dollar from anyone. Think about it the next time you witness an angry woman in the line at a grocery store. Think about it the next time a person may accidently cause you miss your connecting flight (and it is not the end of the world, but whatever is going on in his/her life could, in fact, be the end of their world). Think about it the next time you find yourself getting angered because of what someone else is doing or how he/she is dealing with whatever life is throwing at them that day, week, month, or year. Chances are, at that very moment, all they need is love: a smile, a kind word, an understanding glance. And, chances are, you’ll feel better because of this positive interaction as well.

 

Magic

He is magical. I am magical. We are magic together.  That is the thing that matters. It’s not the big fancy house, the fast sports car, the thousands of dollars in the bank account: it’s the magic. Alone we are fantastic individuals, and when we come together we are so much more. The happiness that beams from our faces, the sparkle in our eyes, and the love in our hearts. That’s it. That’s what I have waited for all these years. That is what I have fought so hard to find. That is for what I have been preparing my heart and my life. That is what my ultimate destiny has always been.

When I witness other love relationships is when I really see the magic he and I share. I’ve seen it before between others a time or two, and luckily for me it was the first example of a love relationship to which I have ever been exposed.  My parents still have that magic. Shoot, they may even be more magical now than they were thirty years ago. In fact, there have been quite a few times when I’ve (unfortunately) felt somewhat set up for disaster because their love is so great and true. How could I ever reach the perfect, once in a lifetime love that my parents found? It couldn’t be the “norm,” and my experiences and the other examples I have seen have proven that is not the “norm.” Now that I have found that kind of love myself, I am thankful that was the example I had to follow. My heart would have never been 100% happy with anything less. And, yes, it is easy to say that now. 

I am so thankful to God for making me be extremely patient in my life’s journey. I am thankful that He has always loved me and strengthened me to be ready for a godly man. I am thankful for the lessons I needed to learn and the heartache and healing my heart had to go through to fully appreciate everything that I have in my life at this moment. I am so thankful to my parents whose magical example taught me what true love is all about and how a partnership can and does work in a loving environment.  I am thankful to my mother for teaching me to respect and love myself first and foremost and then how to give the same amount of love to only a man who is worthy. I am thankful to my father who is the first man to love me. I am thankful that he taught me how a man should love a woman and to never accept anything less. I am thankful to them both for loving each other and allowing the three of us to witness that love still to this day.  And, I am thankful to the man who accepts and appreciates the love I have to give him each day and gives all of his heart and love to me in return. I am thankful for this day and every day that may come that we are the love and the magic that we share together. After all, that is the thing that matters.

Buying Myself Flowers

I have spent some time this morning reflecting on how much influence we allow others to have on who we are as a person: on our happiness, our self-esteem, our confidence in any given circumstance, on our overall well-being and path in life. It makes perfectly good sense why we do it: we are trained to be motivated (positively and negatively) by external things. As children we are disciplined, praised, encouraged, made to feel certain ways in certain moments, and made to not feel certain ways other times- all by someone or something else. I'm certain that it all comes from good intentions as our parents and authority figures have the job of training us to become “productive members” in society.

Unfortunately many people do not realize that with time comes change; it’s evitable- change in ourselves, change in society, change in the progression of behavior- and our programs can be rewritten to best fit who we are at any given time and in any given environment. (It’s part of Neuro-Linguistic Programming. Not familiar with NLP? Google it! It’s fascinating, and I have found that there is much truth in the theory). More importantly what many do not understand is that internal motivation/self-confidence should ultimately triumph over every obstacle/harmful person that one might face along life’s way.

With that being said, I will be the first to admit how hard that is to remember sometimes. I pride myself in having an overall high and healthy amount of confidence. I love who I am, where I’ve been, and the future of happiness that lies ahead of me. Yet, there are times when I allow someone or something to negatively affect that. It may be a comment, an action, or merely a tone of voice sent in my direction. Whatever it is that may take place, for a moment (and sometimes for quite a few moments), I allow that smidge of whatever- disrespect, negativity, disappointment, cruelty- make a ding in my self-esteem. Over time those little dings add up to a larger dent, and if I [subconsciously] allow them to, they eventually cause a wall to be built up, a little coldness to seep into my heart, and/or maybe a semi-permanent decrease in how I value who I am as a person.  

Yep, all because of something or someone else.

When I really narrow it down to the raw facts, it is sad. It’s sad that we give others so much credit and ownership of something in which we should be in control. One’s self-worth. The word “self” is defined as the evaluation by oneself of one's worth as an individual in distinction from one's interpersonal or social roles (http://www.merriam-webster.com/ dictionary/self-definition). Keyword: One. That’s it, just one. Número uno. So in all reality, it should only take the one person to change, affect, value, etc. the value of oneself. However, that is not generally the case.

Here’s where the change comes in. As individuals we must be the ones who change that mindset in ourselves and then change that mindset in the generations to come. I must be the one to change how I allow others to affect me. You must be the one to change how you allow others to affect you. Easy? Yes and no. The hard part will be just remembering and getting that to become the automatic response once we have reprogrammed our individual patterns in our brains. The easy (and fun!) part will be creating happiness for ourselves, and it all starts with feeling good about one’s self. It’s hard for me to believe that anyone on this planet would purposely choose to feel unhappy with who he or she is as a person. So, that really should be the easy part- choosing to be happy with who we are as an individual and holding that view higher than anyone else’s view of who we are.

First step for me today: I went and bought myself flowers. Flowers make me feel good. They are a symbol of love and appreciation, so it only made sense that I would give them to myself.

What will be your first step today in loving and appreciating who you are?

Finding Balance: Being Erin & A "Road Widow"

I have struggled quite a bit over the past two weeks. It’s funny, really, because when CJ and I first met, he “warned” me of this touring stuff. He would tell me stories of not being able to freely communicate whenever we wanted, of him leaving on Thursdays and coming home on Sundays (and then times when he’d be gone weeks at a time), and of the loneliness I may feel when he is away. I was very spoiled in the beginning since we did start dating during the off-season. From December to March, he was home. We were able to focus on us, our love, and on the life we were creating together. Yeah, he played all over downtown at least five days a week, but it was exciting! I could go see him whenever I wanted, and he was always there when I woke up in the morning. After living that life for a few months, I was confident that I had it all figured out and his touring wouldn't bother me one bit. Ha! Was I wrong!

I was convinced that I- the super independent, gypsy, free-spirited, strong woman that I am- could handle anything and I’d actually enjoy being alone (since I was used to it and content with it before I even met the guy). March wasn’t so hard, but I sure did miss him. Then, he was on a nationwide tour in June and July. That was different, and I missed him even more, but I was still okay. Then, this month-long radio tour came along. Geez.

I guess I got so used to his other schedules (and focusing on taking care of his sister who lived with us for the first six months of our relationship) that my expectations quickly needed to be adjusted and I wasn't quite sure what was going on. I realized that I was spending my days worrying about what he was doing, where he was, how many hours were left until he’d be home, or really if he’d even get to come home the next weekend. Then, I had back problems and felt “abandoned” when he had to leave to go back on the road. I was so focused on his career, his schedule, his arrivals, etc. that I forgot to focus any of my energy on ME. I didn't actively participate in my hobbies. I didn't have a schedule of my own because I didn't have any leftover time to focus on it (…or so I thought). I confused “support” of him and his passion with my own breathing, eating, and living of HIS life. That wasn't what he needed or what was making me happy. My job was lacking, and watching him live his dreams each and every day while I wasn't did not make any of this any easier. [I realize now that was so unfair to both of us. Live and learn, huh?]

Then, I woke up. All of this was me- me unhappy with myself, unhappy with the lack of a passionate career, unhappy with how my life has turned out because of the decisions I've made and wouldn't change in a heartbeat. He and I talked about my “unhappiness,” our roles within this life of ours together and ours individually, and how things could be if I would just concentrate on myself a little more. He’s fine; he needs my love and support, but he doesn't need me to remember every little detail or worry about him all the time. I wasn't, though, because I forgot about myself and my wants and needs that only I can fulfill. (Oh my goodness... When did I become that woman???)

The moment I decided to remember myself, my needs, and my interests is the moment that I found this blog: http://roadwidows.com/ . It’s fantastic. It helps me to not beat myself up too much and it also helps me to hold myself accountable. Now when I get an e-mail to update me on the latest posting, I send it to him, and we talk about it together whenever we've both had a chance to read it. We can relate, and it helps us realize we are and will be okay. We’re not alone, and it can work! Now I am actively focusing my time and energy on once again starting up my career- one that I can be passionate about and get just as much love and satisfaction from if he’s here or if he’s on the road. I know that this is still just beginning. Eight months into this and two weeks away from our first completed tour-season still classifies me as a “rookie.” Luckily I have the love of the greatest man I know and the support/advice of the strong Road Widows- I will be fine. Everything will be fine. 

Remembering to Be Happy

Happiness- it is a choice. At any given moment we can choose to be happy or get upset or hold a grudge or forgive. Oh, emotions. Oh, happiness. Being happy, staying happy... happy, happy, happy... it is easier said than done sometimes. Lately it has been much easier said than done for me. I know that I control my emotions and I know that I am the only one who will make me happy or will allow myself to feel unhappy.  Yet, sometimes, it is difficult to decipher that through all of the life going on around me.

Instead it tends to be "easier" to depend on others-- pressure off of me and onto you-- fair, no, but easier in the moment, yes. I also find it easier to focus my energy on making others happy. Again, pressure is off. If my energy is directed towards others, and they are happy, I have succeeded. If I focus my energy on me and for some reason I am still unhappy, then I have in some way "failed" myself and my well-being. I go so far to even convincing myself that if others are happy, then automatically I will find happiness through them. When I take a step back and really look at that mindset, I know it's silly. It is true that making others happy is emotionally pleasing to me. I'm a giver. I live to be kind to others and to myself. I will put myself aside if someone else is "needier" than I am at any given moment. Most of the time pleasing others makes me happy; other times I do push my happiness to the back of the line and tie myself up with a smile so others don't know what I am doing.

Controlling, yes. Borderline crazy, maybe. Real, absolutely.

Then, when I am lost and have no idea how to get back to that inner peace of happiness and self-satisfaction, it hits me. I control me. My energy and time needs to be directed to me and only me before I should ever consider throwing it into someone or something else outside of myself. I don't have to control others and/or a situation to just be. To be happy. To be content. To be me. I can still give and do kind gestures because it does make me feel good inside and in return others smile along with me. Two smiles are better than one. But, my smile is great. If I am not smiling and sincerely happy, why in the world should I expect others to smile? And even more so, why in the world am I exerting MY energy onto them when I can't first and foremost spend it on myself?

I just have to remember. I have to remember to be happy. I have to remember that I am in control of me and not anything or anyone else. I have to remember to give myself my infamous "pep talks" in the morning, every morning- on good days and especially on bad days. I have to remember to smile a real smile. I have to remember to focus on me sometimes and do what I need to do to be and stay happy. I just have to remember that happiness is a choice, and it's the best choice.

Today, I choose happiness. I am happy. #smiling

They Are MY Emotions, and I'll Cry If I Want To

For the good part of eight years, I spent a lot energy apologizing for my feelings and pretended to be someone I wasn't. I did it so much, I even started to believe that I should act and feel a certain way. Soon, I didn't even notice I was doing: it became natural, and that emotionless, selfless person was me. Poof! Just like that the automatic "I'm sorry's" and changing the way I felt because others thought I should feel differently was my existence. Then one day when I had had enough and couldn't bear one more minute of pretending and going through the motions of the emotionless life that I was living, I decided I couldn't (and wouldn't) do it any longer.

Since then I have compromised my feelings for others at times. I have come to understand that sometimes life demands that of us, and it is okay. There are moments and situations where one must step outside their selfish, one-sided way of thinking and consider others, their feelings, and their expectations/ demands. The "other" may be a partner, a friend, a child, a coworker, a corporation, or a group to which one belongs. The difference now is that I don't lose sight of my feelings in the meantime. Instead, I consider it somewhat of a trade-off: What I do for another somehow has an advantage for me and my well-being. However, there are those other times where my stubbornness won't let me compromise my feelings in fear that I may once again fall into that scary trap of being the emotionless robot that I was those many years ago. In those moments I may shut down and use one of the several defense mechanisms I carefully designed and created to protect my health and my heart.

That could be a weakness that could haunt me for the rest of my days. Because it has taken me so long to value and appreciate my feelings (no matter how appropriate or justified they may be at any given time), it is a hard pill to swallow when one depreciates (or tries to depreciate) how I am feeling for any given reason. The new Erin believes that my feels are my feelings, and I will be darned if anyone tries to control them.  Even when I can't control a certain emotion ('cause I'll admit at times I let my emotions get the best of me to the point that even I'm not sure why I'm feeling the way I am feeling), no one else will control it for me. As crazy as this may sound, I'd rather the emotion control me than allow someone else try to control my emotions for me (Remember, after all, I still am a woman= estrogen in large amounts).

But when the emotions subside and the reality of life isn't clouded by the craziness any longer, I gain control once again. It all just seems to fall back into place, and life is good. 99% of the time, no one else knows what goes on in my heart and my head with me and the emotions I feel. It's me: I am who I am. I won't apologize for feeling a certain way, but I will apologize if I allow my emotions to affect anyone else in a negative way. No one will ever change the way I feel if I don't allow them to. People can add to my happiness, my sadness, my enthusiasm, or, at times, even my confusion, but ultimately I create it all. I control it, and all of it is okay because it makes me stand apart from the ordinary, going-through-the-emotions people who are afraid to take control of their lives and their destined happiness and/or unhappiness.

I choose happiness.

 

When It All Falls Into Place

Over the course of the past four years of trying to find myself, learn life lessons, recover and triumph over what seemed like a lifetime of obstacles and pain, healing a broken heart and then mending it from time to time, and finally learning to trust not only others but most importantly myself, the same sentence has been echoed in my head by my family and friends: Everything will fall into place.

The once optimistic turned realist (and at times: pessimistic) woman in me would secretly laugh and roll my eyes at this statement. Understandably, we all want life to work out exactly how we have envisioned it; believe me, I surely did. Unfortunately (ha!) for me, I had been burned so many times and exhausted my energy and emotions on everyone else to the point that I had come to believe that my chaotic life of moves and unstableness of chasing dreams would forever be the life I’d lead even if nothing ever quite “fell into place.” And I had come to accept that and be perfectly satisfied with that lifestyle. I was even semi-planning a three-month hiatus to a beach somewhere bringing along only a tent and bikini. (The optimistic in me had decided she could have a garden on the beach and eat whatever she could grow.)

But, just as easily as it turned chaotic and unstable, one day it did: everything just fell into place. I am still not really sure how it all happened. At this point it’s such a blur: a blur of happiness, laughter, love, and contentment. However it finally happened, it happened. That’s the point. Even for me- the untrusting-selfish-walls-built-up-and-never-coming-down-wandering-never-stopping-given-up-hope girl that I had turned into- it all just fell into place!

And still from time to time when I reflect on my past (mainly the past four years since almost everything before that has been repressed and consciously forgotten), I try to figure it all out. I try to label what was always unclear- the breakups, the lost friendships, the seven moves in six months, the nice guys to whom I would never give a second thought, the moments of uncontrollable tears, and the random meeting of strangers that would lead to fantastic nights of learning and laughing- and somehow it all makes perfect sense now. It all had to happen exactly like it did for this present life to be as fantastic and full of love and happiness as it is.

No what-ifs or regret are left in my heart. If even one thing had been different or sabotaged by my unwillingness, it may all be different now. Because I have grown and accepted who I am and where I come from and everything involved in that process, I am completely whole and happy. It all fell into place, and it is exactly how I needed it to be.

Cause and Effect: Happiness From Craziness

Sara Evans "A Little Bit Stronger" is on the radio. Two years ago I would be a crying mess right about now. Gosh, even last year at this time I probably would have cried (for different reasons, of course). Today, however, the smile on my face says it all: "Better off without you; I'm getting stronger without you"...Perfect. It's moments like this when I reflect back over the past four and a half years that really make me appreciate everything and everyone that I had to go through to get me to where I am right this second. This second is all that matters anyway, right? 

From losing a husband and "best friend" (when, in all reality, I only gained myself and a happy future), to moving a zillion times in two years, to adding numerous cracks into an already broken heart, and on top of all of that discounting everything that I truly wanted to settle for a mediocre life with someone(s) who would maybe love me one day like I loved them (note: "love" like I only knew the definition to be at the time). It's all a crazy whirlwind now. It's hard to believe that one person could go through that much in so little time. Sometimes it's even harder to believe that person was me.

I ignored what I didn't want to see, noticed only what I allowed myself to notice, loved without any reservation, and endured more than I would ever wish for another human being to ever endure. I cried way too many tears and gave my incomplete heart to anyone who would briefly hold on to it because that meant I didn't have to struggle and be responsible with all of its fractures. Cowardly, huh? Thank goodness I finally got control of all the madness that was my life once upon a time.

Funny thing is that I had to do it all over just to get me to the place I am today, I would do it in a heartbeat. Not even a heartbeat- half a heartbeat. The smiles upon my face at any given moment in the day, the laughter that echoes in this house, the love for myself and for others that I constantly feel in my heart- everything in the past was worth all of this in the present. Eventually this second will be history as well. I know that I will be so proud of myself when I look back upon these days and remember the moments of sacrifices, dedication, support, and love that I give daily to prepare for an even better future than what I can only imagine. 

Life: it's fantastic.

Just Please Don't Break My Heart

"Don't break my heart. Please, just don't break my heart": The words that have repeated over and over in my head every time I meet someone new. The silent words that are usually faster than the "Hi, my name is...," or the "It's nice to meet yous" that would be automatic to any normal person. Normal being the key word here as I have been anything but "normal" when it comes to love and relationships (or life for that matter) over the past four years.

Instead of focusing on me- my needs, my wants, my future, my present- the majority of my focus has been on not getting hurt and not letting anyone too close to my heart because letting someone in ultimately leads to just another break in my already broken heart. Crazy logic, huh? Although I had worked very hard on tearing down the walls that were the barricade of my heart for so long, I always remained conscious of my heart and kept the little walls of protection nearby just in case of an emergency. My energy was dedicated to not getting hurt instead of feeling love. Every now and again I would allow myself to get vulnerable enough to feel and experience almost-love. But then just as quickly as I allowed myself to feel, I retreated; I pulled back and lost any sight of almost-love that could or could not have been.

As the Law of Attraction states: By focusing on positive or negative thoughts, one can bring about positive or negative results. I was focused on not getting my heart broken. Every ounce of my energy was driven by negative thoughts in an away-pattern. Instead of focusing on love (the ultimate positive) and accepting a towards-pattern of life, I allowed myself to feel protected by the subtle fact that if I didn't allow myself to get hurt, I wouldn't get hurt. I was running away from what I wanted instead of running towards it.

Silly girl.

From all that came learning, and I am immensely grateful for those lessons. Knowing what I know now has finally enabled me to love fearlessly and open-heartedly. Not once in the last four months have I worried about my heart getting broken. Instead, I have focused my energy on love and embraced each ounce of love I have received. I am not saying it's not scary at times, but it is all worth it. Regardless of what the future holds, I am dedicated to me, and I will challenge myself to remain focused on the positives, the lessons, and the love that is evident in my life.

 

The Journey That Led Me "Home"

It's so nice to once again know the feeling of a "home." It has been quite a while since I recognized that feeling and sense of security, and yesterday as I was driving back from my visit in Warner Robins, Georgia, I felt it for the very first time in a long time. During my six-hour drive north to Tennessee, I spent some time reflecting on my definition of "home" and the journey I have been since 2007 when I first recognized the absence of a "home" in my life. I wrote down the path I took; I talked to God and thanked Him for each and every step I took that led me to where I am now; most importantly, I realized and felt appreciation for every single thing that makes up the place I now call my home. 

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This morning I googled "home" to see what Old Mr. Webster had to say on the word. Here's what I found:

1 one's place of residence 

2 the social unit formed by a family living together

3 a familiar or usual setting : congenial environment; also :the focus of one's domestic attention <home is where the heart is>

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To me a "home" is so much more. Yeah, it is a place that one resides, but it is also a place where there is love, laughter, acceptance, trust, a sense of unity, respect, and a feeling of stability and comfort. For twenty-three years I never knew anything different when someone mentioned the word. I guess I figured everyone felt those things and that was the only way a home could be. Since then I have learned and experienced a "home" in several different ways. Not all of them have been a negative interpretation of the word, but sometimes it has been. For me, the void of those feelings have been a negative component in my life. Well, until now anyway.

My journey from ages twenty-three to the present has made me realize how fantastic and blessed my home life has been and now is again. Over the past two and a half years, I haven't consistently felt the presence of a "home" in my life. Every now and again I will get glimpses but nothing more. Even when I would visit Tennessee, it didn't quite feel the same.

Tennessee was my home from 1991-2007, and then it was the only real home I knew between 2007-2009 after moving my entire life to Georgia. Georgia was never my "home;" it was merely my place of existence where I went through the motions of domestic life and a teaching career. Once I moved back to Tennessee after spending six weeks backpacking through Europe in 2010, it wasn't the "home" I had known it to be all those years before. Yeah, my family was there, and I will never discredit the love and commitment we have for each other, yet I knew there was something more out there- more for me to learn, find, experience- and I wasn't going to stop until I found it (or at the least tried to find it). Little did I know at the time, it would ultimately bring me back to Tennessee where everything that I was destined to find was patiently waiting for me. 
 

On January 6, 2011 I left for Portland, Oregon.  Honestly, I couldn't stand one more day in Tennessee. Although I thoroughly enjoyed every moment I had spent with my family and friends over the past seven months, I knew I had to go find myself and create my own happiness. I needed to go. I needed to love, lose, learn, and be away from whatever it was that was still holding me back from my personal growth and the life I was destined to have some day. 

Although I love the city, Portland didn't feel like "home" to me either. The novelty quickly wore off; happiness was no where to be found. The life I thought I'd have and the feelings that I expected to feel were nonexistent. Not one day in Oregon felt right. I went through the motions, tried to be patient, and waited for the changes that would never take place. Six weeks later I stopped fooling myself and everyone around me, packed my things, said my goodbyes, and headed to the airport. (Picture Casey James' "Crying On a Suitcase." Yep. I was that girl.) At that moment I felt more lost and confused than ever. Where would I go? What would I do? Everything that I was hoping to find was never there.

Now what?

Instead of going straight back to Tennessee, I boarded a plane for Denver, Colorado. I still needed time: time to cry, time to feel sorry for myself, and time away from all the "I told you so's" I knew were waiting for me the minute I stepped on Nashville soil. I spent an entire week in Colorado. That week was exactly what I needed! I cried (a lot), laughed even more, had fun, and learned so much. For a second I felt the "home" I had been longing for that had been so void in my life over the past seven months. 

When I finally went back to Tennessee, I had no idea what to do. I had no job, no car, nothing. I moved back in with my parents (who were always amazing during my journey and continue to be so today) for a couple of weeks. One day I received a call from my former boss at Bonaire Middle School in Georgia. She offered me a long-term substitute position on my old team of teachers. I would be filling in for five weeks for the math teacher while she was recovering from surgery. I instantly thought "What the heck? What do you have to lose here?," so, I left for Georgia. I spent the next five weeks living with some friends, teaching 7th grade math, training for a half-marathon, and finally started to deal with the heartache and pain that had been haunting my life and my heart. 

Once again I went back to Tennessee where I lived for another six weeks or so. I spent a week in Nashville and the next few weeks in Chattanooga. One day I woke up and decided that I would wait no longer. I was moving to Denver, Colorado as soon as I found the courage. That happened on June 29th. I packed up my two-door Honda and left Nashville with two friends who would see me through the first few of days of the rest of my life. A few days later, as we crossed into Colorado, I felt it. I felt like I was "home" at last. 
 

That feeling lasted until Christmas time. That's when it hit me: Colorado may have just been my temporary "home." I had grown so much. I learned about myself, my heart, healing, forgiveness, and how much potential I had no matter where I was, who I was with, or what I was doing. I did things over those six months that I never thought possible. I walked on fire (literally!); I forgave; I loved myself completely and owned and accepted everything that had been my stumbling blocks in the past; I started lowering the walls that were protecting my heart; I realized that I may be the sole source of my forever happiness, and I was okay with all of it. 

 
From Christmas through May, I enjoyed my time in Colorado. I traveled, made a ton of friends, learned through relationships, and gave myself the freedom to feel again. Throughout those months I heard Tennessee calling me "home" to whatever is was that was waiting there for me. Sometimes I thought I knew what it was, but regardless, I knew I had to go at least for a little while. So, on May 22nd I drove 1,200 miles back to the place that I used to know so well. 
 

At first I didn't know how to feel or what to do. I had certain expectations that didn't play out. I tried to take one day at a time. I enjoyed the company of my friends and the experiences that laid before me. Still, it wasn't quite the same. In mid-August I made the decision to go down to Chattanooga for a couple of months to figure some things out. My parents were there, and I thought, just maybe, I would feel the homeyness with them there. And, I did, but still there was something pulling me back to Nashville.

At the end of October, I drove back to Nashville. I had a job but no where to live. Fortunately I have fantastic friends who always support me and take care of me when I can't figure out how to take care of myself. Over the duration of a few weeks, I stayed in Bridget and Alan's guest room. They took care of me and offered me everything I needed until I figured out a living situation.

That's when it all started to fall into place, and the rest is history.

Now it's April, and I am still in Nashville. Crazy, huh? I am happier now than I ever remember being as an adult. I feel the security, love, and confidence that I have been searching for.  I create my own happiness now and have learned to not just wait around for things to happen. I know that my journey has not stopped; it has just merely changed direction. Before I was wandering aimlessly trying to get by and making the best out of as many experiences through my spontaneous adventures as possible. Now I am experiencing life in a whole new light. I am living life with an open heart and open eyes while appreciating the stability and acceptance for which my heart has been hopelessly searching. Although I continue to take one day at a time, I cannot help but to be ecstatic about the amazing future that I know is ahead of me! I'm not afraid to fall or fail anymore; instead I am embracing those moments and accepting the lessons they have to teach me. Most importantly, I am taking full advantage of the love that this life is giving me and giving back all of my love in return. I am finally home once again.
 

A Simple Reminder of a Father's Love

This morning as I sit in the living room listening to CJ prepare for this show this weekend, a song catches my ear. Being a musician's girlfriend means music is around, always. Most of the time I hear the song, but I don't listen to the song, to the meaning. It's a song written for a father from a woman who is getting married. It's in these moments that I am reminded how great a father's love truly is in a daughter's life: how great my father's love is in my life.

"Today I became his wife, and I'll be your baby girl for life"-- That's it. No matter where this world brings me, whose life I am in at the time, or whatever last name I may take, my daddy is mine and I am his forever. Nothing changes that. His love for me doesn't get replaced; it just continues to strengthen me and shine through despite the obstacles life may throw at me. When I lose the love of another, I know that his love is there to catch me and keep me going. When I find new love, his love is there to encourage me and let me know everything will be okay no matter what the future holds for this heart. On top of all of that, his love is the greatest example of the love I deserve and should embrace with open arms.

He was there for my first bath, my first laugh. He taught me about sports, cars, how a lady should be treated, and about God. He threw the ball outside with me every day after he had worked ten hours, and he told me I was beautiful each day as well. He hugged me, coached me, and was proud of me and continues to do so today. He walked me down the aisle and gave me away. He held me on the dance floor on what was the happiest day of my life. He held me on the day I felt my world was falling apart and was there to pick up the pieces of the mess I had made. He lets me go off to whatever city, state, or country my gypsy-spirit leads me and is always waiting with open arms to welcome me home. He contiues to laugh with me, cry with me, and love me through the good and bad moments in my crazy life. And, no matter if he agrees or not with my decisions, he remains my biggest fan and is proud of the woman he sees when he looks at me.

His love never stops, and I am his baby girl for life.

Plans.

If you take the time to make plans, you expect them to play out, right? You put all of your energy, love, and time into whatever it is that is so important to you: a college degree, a marriage, a child, a career. Nothing will get in your way or distract you from making that plan unfold exactly as you have foreseen in your mind. After all, that is the purpose of a plan. Plain and simple.

But what happens when the plan does not play out exactly as one has planned? The bumps, the obstacles, the dead ends. All the time, blood, sweat, and tears... for what? For a "plan" that ultimately had no perfect story or happy ending. Then what? What happens to that energy or the chapters that were written in one's head but went unwritten in life? Does it all just disappear without another thought?

Could it just be easier to go through life plan-less? No happy endings, yet no pain of failure? If there is no plan to begin with, does the heartbreak of a broken plan go away as well? One day at a time: no expectations; no disappointments.
Or is the excitement of a plan and the roads paved to reach the plan the way to go? Hard work, determination, and the feeling of success if the plan unravels as intended. Is that the secret to life?

I've lived both ways. I have found instant happiness in the plan-less years: no expectations= surprises, excitement, and a carefree existence that opened up a whole new world for me. But, there were also cloudy, hard-to-focus paths in front of me that, at times, left me with confusion, wonder, and thoughts of idle laziness that did not please me one bit. On the flip-side, the planned years turned bad caused me to experience heartache in a way that I never knew was possible. The long-term effects of failure from the planned years that went monstrously wrong still linger around at times. Although the thoughts of the "what ifs" have been retired and buried forever, the fear of making those mistakes again has made a permanent home in both my heart and my mind.

At the end of the day, I just want to know that I am living my life to the fullest, be it through a well-thought out plan or through moments of spontaneity and excitement. If one path is easier today, the other may be ten times easier tomorrow. If the "easy" path makes me happy one day, the other path may make me even more happy in the days to come. I guess only time with tell and plans will work out exactly as they are intended to: as planned or possibly even better than planned.

A Child's Smile

As humans we teach ourselves to smile no matter what. If we are happy, a smile is automatic. If we are upset, most of us smile anyway to avoid the inevitable question of "What's wrong?" It's just how it works. More times than not, it is easier to fake a smile than it is to explain what's wrong to everyone who asks.
 

A couple of nights ago while the band was entertaining the crowd with a well-known country song, I watched on as a young boy was given a guitar pick while he patiently listened to the band at a local touristy bar that surely his parents forced him to go to because they aren't in Nashville every day. As he was handed the pick and eagerly asked from the player on stage to stroke the guitar a few times, his face lit up. It was real. Genuine. Amazing. Pure.

I continued to watch on as his glowing, smiling face stared at the stage in ubber excitement, the pick never leaving the death grip of his little fingers. In that moment I was reminded of how much a smile really means. No matter how stressful life is, how upset one is, or whatever else is going on in one's life, a true smile doesn't lie. Sometimes I look back at pictures of myself and think: "Dang, Erin. That smile wasn't real. It was forced, fake, and sad." Other times I see a smile upon my face that couldn't be pretended no matter how hard I tried. It's real, exciting, and full of happiness and love. That's how a smile should be, every time, regardless of whatever is going on around us.

Emotions: They come so naturally to children. When kids are happy, they smile. When they are sad, they cry. As a person grows and matures, he trains himself to be tough and disguise emotions in ways that are more socially acceptable. Smiles change meaning and real emotions subconsciously get buried inside. It doesn’t have to be this way though. Patterns are never too far gone that they cannot be rewritten. One's smile can mean the same at adulthood as it once did during childhood. We just have to remember the real meaning behind the emotion, and then it will be effortless.

KDR: My Favorite Love Story

love [luhv] noun: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person

Sometimes I wonder what exactly was going through my parents’ minds as they ventured out on their very first date in October 1981. Did they have any idea that for (at least) the next thirty-one years they would never love another and would be forever connected in a way that is only found in a Hollywood romance movie? Did my father know that this was the woman he would marry, care for, support, and love each day for the rest of his life? Did my mother know that this man would be the father of her children, the best friend she could have ever imagined, and the forever love that she never knew was out there waiting on her?

All I know is that whatever happened that night would be the start of one of the greatest love stories ever told. Something had to have gone correctly because after two more months, my dad slipped a ring on my mom’s finger and asked her to marry him. A few short weeks later, they would be forever known as “Mr. and Mrs. Kevin and Debby Ritter.”  And for the past twenty-nine years I have been fortunate enough to have that incredible love story unravel right in front of me.

As a child I thought everyone’s parents acted as mine did: hugs and kisses each morning and night, respect and honor reflecting in the other’s eyes as they exchanged glances across the dinner table, holding hands on the couch after a long day’s work, little jokes and laughter radiating off the walls of their sweet home, and the never-ending admiration they shared for one another on a daily basis. The older I got, the more unique I found their love to be. Rarely have I witnessed another couple quite like my parents. Now that I am an adult and have been involved in my own love relationships, it is even more evident how true my parents’ relationship is, has been, and forever will be. I am so blessed to have this constant reminder of what “true love” really is about and to feel the love between this man and this woman pour down on and surround me every second of my existence.

Not only is the love between my mother and my father alone strong, the love that they together give to their family is that much stronger. In everything they did and continue to do, my brother, sister, and I are taught love. We feel it, unconditionally, and in return, we recognize love for what it truly is and return that love to those in our lives. We willingly receive it and, even more so, we unselfishly and generously give love to all those around us.  We could have never asked for a better example of love, respect, and dedication than that of what we received from watching our parents. Not only are we better people because of the love that was showered onto us, but the world is that much better of a place all because two people fell in love and worked every day to ensure that love was everlasting.

Happy Anniversary, mom and dad! I am so grateful for the example that you have set for me and the love that you have given to me.  You will forever be my favorite love story.

 

Timing Really Is Everything

On October 6, 2011 I wrote a draft titled "Nightly Love Affair." For some reason I never finished or published the draft. I found it today as I was shuffling through my blogs and reflecting on the past (almost) twenty-nine years of life and love that has been my existence on this earth. Here it is:

"In a recent blog I wrote about manifesting true love and finally feeling the love in my heart that I’ve always dreamed about. Since then I have consciously thought about the love of my life and, at times, I’ve even felt “him.”My heart is open and ready for the man I have always dreamed about. It is so empowering to know that I am finally in total control of my heart, and that it is healed and ready to love again.
Each night, I dedicate my time before bed to “him” before I say my prayers and drift off to sleep. This past Tuesday was no exception. I spent some alone time mediating and manifesting this true love that I so desperately seek. Like I usually do, I listened to the love song station on Pandora, lit some candles, and turned down the lights. I shut my eyes and just listened to the music, imaging the words being sung by my dream man. And once again, I felt “him,” and my heart started to race. Before I knew it, a huge smile had crept onto my face.
I am not sure when I will find “him,” but I am sure that he’s out there! He’s near, and I can feel him!!! I will continue to seek him as he searches for me. It may be tomorrow; it may be a year from now… Who knows?! It could even be five years down the road. No matter how long it takes, I am so excited. Every day I wake up as excited as the last thinking maybe, just maybe, he will appear in front of me today. If he does, WOOOOHOOO!! If he doesn’t, then tomorrow I will wake up just as excited and eager as I did yesterday about this magical love that awaits me."

Oh how I remember those cold Denver, CO nights in late 2011 alone in my one-bedroom apartment. I would religiously think "him" into life. I would light candles, relax, listen to love songs, close my eyes, and spend minutes upon minutes in meditation and manifestation. I would literally feel love for a person that I had never met before. I had no idea who he was, when he would come to me, or how we would meet. I did, however, know in my heart that he was out there somewhere preparing himself for me as I was preparing myself for him. How exciting!!!


Now sixteen months later, after hundreds of days of preparation, a few lost love relationships, several obstacles, and thousands of lessons learned, I know that I have found him. The man that I have dreamt about. The man that was waiting at the end of the tunnel for me. The man that will love me like no man ever has or like no other ever will. The man that looks at me and knows that he is worthy of me while feeling lucky every second we spend together. The man who treats me like my father treats my mother. The man that God has designed for me and for only me.

It just so happened that I met him exactly when I needed to meet him. God knew that on that October night I was not ready. He knew that even a year later I wouldn't be quite ready. He had so much more to teach me, and I had a lot more growing up to do before I would be the woman ready to receive such love. Timing really is everything, and this love was definitely worth that wait.




 

Long Live and Stay Beautiful

You came into my life at the exact moment I needed you. For months the world revolved around two people thirsting for love, acceptance, healing, and confidence. The first thought as we opened our eyes in the morning to the last thing on our minds as we closed them at the end of each day. Distractions from things that were less than desirable and moments that were heartbreaking to say the least. You gave me hope that there are good men in the world: a man who loves with his whole heart and follows through on the words that he speaks. A godly man who trusts in the love that I am capable of and accepting of all that I could offer him. You gave me confidence when I wasn't strong enough to give it to myself and encouragement when I needed it the most. Through your voice on the phone, even at 1,200 miles away, hope was instilled in me that I could and would have the future for which I secretly longed. With you or with someone else, I would be happy. I would laugh. I would love. And most importantly, I would live the life that was designed for me by a God who knows me better than I know myself.

After seventy-six days of cross-country text messaging, late night phone calls, revealed secrets, a couple of close encounters that left us even more curious and engaged, the sharing of appropriate Taylor Swift song lyrics, and endless prayers for a hopeful love connection, we were finally united one warm May evening in Tennessee. Feelings of nervousness and anxiety filled the room as we tried to fathom the fact that we were finally together. At last. For so long that day was longed for, and it had finally arrived.

Now seven months later after one fantastic weekend, lots of tears, hopeful emotions quickly turned into lost dreams, and one heated late-night argument, I can sit here and be proud of how everything played out between us. I am so grateful that I had you exactly when I needed you: no more, no less. I am thankful for the words you said and didn't say. I am thankful for the connection we had while we were 1,200 miles away from one another that was void when we were finally face to face. I am thankful for the laughter through the phone that I can still hear as I think about our conversations that involved but weren't limited to our teeth history, Irish pub songs, the rescuing of bugs from your son, and childhood memories of Pebbles and growing up in small town Mt. Juliet.

Here's to you! May you have the life that you want and deserve. May you never settle for less than sparks that fly, enchanted encounters, amazing crafted beer, and lots of laughing. I hope you always remember those feelings that we shared through the distance between us and know in your heart that everything is meant to be exactly as it is. I hope you are always happy and, if you are ever not happy, I hope that you will remember the way back to that happiness. Remember those in your life who are real and trustworthy. Remember the lessons you have learned and the love you have received. Never take anything for granted and don't let others take all that you have to offer for granted. Above all, remember who you are as a man, a father, a friend, and a lover. Long live and stay beautiful. Forever.