Chosen

Thank you to all the people who have chosen me in my life.

From my first boyfriend who gave me all of our many firsts to my ex-husband who at least chose me for a time at least I was chosen and wanted at some point in my life by someone. Someone who wanted me and chose to commit to me and building a life with me for whatever time we had.

I don’t know if I will ever have that again with anyone so I can’t help but be grateful for the times I was chosen as a partner as someone desirable to have around. Whatever my flaws or features, I was wanted.

The callous that’s been protecting my heart for so long is falling away. Just as I prayed it would. And as it falls further and further away there’s a lot of pain and sadness. Feelings I haven’t allowed myself to feel and thoughts I haven’t allowed myself to think. Now they come crashing in like a damn tsunami. Such it is.

I’m sad sometimes. I am scared sometimes. But I’m always alone. I want a relationship with someone who chooses me every day. I want flowers for no reason. I want birthday presents from the one who loves me. I want vacations and date nights. I want a life partner who will walk alongside me and encourage me in our journey. I want to wake up and feel the warmth of his body in my bed. I want to feel his strong body next to mine. I want to watch him sleep and be the first thing he sees when he wakes.

One day, maybe I will be blessed with a loving, long-lasting, blessed by God relationship where I will feel wholly accepted, deeply loved, and chosen. And I will choose him. Every day. Every moment. For all of my remaining breaths and beyond, I will choose my partner and invest in us with every action, thought, and dream. Just as I would hope for him to do the same for us. One day, I want to forget what it felt like to feel alone, scared and sad. I want to forget the feelings but hold dearly to the lessons so as to never feel this way again. I want to build with someone. I want to build down, not out, not up, but down deep… grow roots and find water, let the tendrils of love sink deep and far into the souls we share and interweave so firmly as to never be broken or unbound. I want the depth of unconditional love for my partner, similar to that love of a child; deep, unbreakable, unconditional, altruistic, peaceful, wholesome love that restores faith, breeds hope, and is strong enough to endure growing pains and struggle that is innate to all relationships.

I will lift my eyes to God and rely on Him and his timing to make this a reality. He knows the needs of my heart and he will deliver in his own time and him own way. I will keep dreaming and hoping for the day when He answers. ❤️🙏🏼

Prayerfully,

The Repressed Peach

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Weary

Oh my soul. My soul is so weary from the last year. I feel tender and sore from the aches and pains this past year had been fraught with. I’m not so sad now or going through anything at this moment but the trials the last year brought has calloused my tender heart. Just like a scab that covers a wound when the scab finally falls off the skin underneath is a bit tender and sensitive. Such is the status of my heart and soul. I feel like the scales of callous are falling off little by little through the life I’m living and connections I’m making. I’m back in church where I feel the wooing of God again. I’m connecting with my feelings again and I realize I have a lot of feelings I’ve not given voice to. I’m feeling the sensitivity of my tender soul blooming again in my chest. As in my last post it’s like how the Grinch feels his heart swell in his chest and he sheds a tear. This is exactly how I feel. I feel the genuine desire to be happy and to be free to feel, laugh, love and enjoy life. I can’t help but cry and feel super sensitive. I don’t really know how to manage it except to feel and allow myself the time to experience the emotions fully. Prayer sounds like a good coping mechanism in this season. Maybe surrounding myself with people who love me? That sounds like a novel idea. Lots of hugs, maybe some laughter, comfy nights of sleep, a stiff drink from time to time… and I guess anything else that might allow me to feel good.

You know what though? I’m totally okay with feeling all this sensitivity and achy-ness. I want to feel. I want to be vulnerable and sensitive. I want to shed a tear when I feel sad, joyful, angry, whatever… I don’t want to keep that in anymore, I want to share it and let it out. I want to give myself permission to feel exactly what I feel as it comes. All this will lead my soul to rebound from the pain of the events of the last year.

Living a life you’re proud of is important. It doesn’t matter what you’ve dreamed of if you’re not making it a reality. Living a life of purpose is real and necessary. Now that I’m in the profession I’ve aspired toward, I’m finally fulfilled. I feel like I’m living a purposeful, intentional existence and earning an income that allows me to live comfortably. This gives me a sense of peace and comfort as I can rest in this domain of my life and focus on other domains that need some tending specifically my relationships with others.

I want to speak freely and speak gently. I want to edit only my words to reflect my purest intention. I want to be true to my word in all things and not have to think back on anything. I want to be brave and courageous in my relationships but not crass or brazen. I want honesty without shame or ridicule. I want genuine interaction without agenda or fear. I want to trust again. Wholly. But most of all, I want people to be the same with me.

I know in time this will be a season of my past and I will grow into new areas. In the meantime I’m gonna work on myself a bit. I’m gonna keep my eyes on tendering my heart and connecting with God and friends while I feel the joy spring eternal in my soul again.

Warmly yours,

The Repressed Peach

So tell me about yourself…

Well let me tell you… I don’t really have a good response to an inquiry of this nature. What do you want to know? What are you curious about? What suppositions have you made about me that I can refute for you?

The basics. Let’s start there.

I moved around quite a bit as a young child. I grew up mostly in Arizona but I have a few formative years in Tennessee as well as Wisconsin.

Abuse was rampant in my household. As the eldest child of three I was witness to many atrocities of the human condition. Physical abuse. Sexual abuse. Drug abuse. Extreme poverty. Homelessness. Endangered children. Dirty, hungry, sad children. Children with no parenting. It was an awful environment. One that I knew I needed to remove myself from. School became my refuge. Teachers were my confidants. I sought solace in my friends and their parents. Life continued this way for the majority of my upbringing.

When I turned 18 I got my first tattoo. Two weeks later I graduated high school. Two weeks after that I moved out of my mom’s house. Six months later I moved back to Wisconsin with $400 in my pocket and my Honda Civic hatchback packed to the hilt. I drove myself across the country during a time in which cell phones were not common or affordable. With nowhere to officially live and no job, I started a life of my own on my own. My aunt helped me find roommates and let me sleep on her sofa for a couple weeks until I got connected. Within a couple days I landed four different jobs in various industries. This was early January 1998 so it was cold and snowy but my Arizona blood quickly acclimated to the new environment. Soon after my arrival in Wisconsin I got the itch to get into college. I didn’t know anything about how to apply for college. I didn’t know how I could pay for it. I didn’t know where to even start. As a first generation high school graduate from an impoverished family, I hadn’t the faintest idea about what college entailed or how I was supposed to gain access to the enchanted buildings that seemed to only open for those magic wand bearing individuals with silver spoons dangling from their nectar-laden lips. I just knew education was what I needed. Somehow I managed to enroll in community college and earned a couple credits in early childhood education. I finally had health insurance through my employer and had dental coverage too so one day I went the dentist for a routine cleaning and the hygienist asked me about school. I told her about my few classes at community college. She then proceeded to tell me about her daughter who had joined the Air National Guard to get her education paid for. I hadn’t ever even heard of the Guard or the Air Force for that matter. Truly I thought it was just something from Top Gun… I had no idea it was a real branch of the military. So, within two weeks of that conversation with the hygienist I went to the Recruiter and enlisted in the US Air Force. Not the reserves, not the Guard, but active duty US Air Force. And so began the best chapter of the rest of my life. Although I separated from the military eight years ago, I feel as though it was the absolute best decision of my life. I’m still reaping the rewards of enlistment all these years later. In fact, it would’ve been 18 years ago this past July that I started my military career. Boy does time fly when life is happening like it should and good things are taking place.

To date, I’ve been in education for seven years and going into my 8th academic year. I have held many positions in education so far. Special education inclusion teacher, English teacher, special education department chairperson, assistant soccer coach, head soccer coach, class sponsor, ARD Facilitator, and now, my current position as school counselor. I’ve spent my time serving in education in various forms and while I’ve been here for some time I feel like I’m still getting to know who I am and how to function. Part of that is all of the changes I’ve had but all of them have been good for me; I’ve grown and learned so much. Regarding my current role as counselor I feel like I have finally achieved my ultimate goal. I’ve dreamed of this day for years. I can remember all the way back to fifth grade and talking with my friend about what I wanted to be when I grew up and distinctly remember saying I wanted to be a counselor. I wanted to work with kids who have faced the problems I had as a kid. I wanted to be for someone else what my teachers were for me and MORE! I toyed with the idea a couple times and thought maybe I would be a child psychologist or something but quickly went back to counseling when I realized psychologists only wrote prescriptions and research papers. Not my cup of tea. At all. I want to talk. I want to provide guidance. I want to cry alongside my students and listen with open ears and heart. I want to connect them to the agencies who can help. I want to guide them through the college or career paths they will face. I want to walk alongside them as they choose their paths for adulthood. So here I am… ready, willing, and very capable of giving everything they need and want to be successful young people.

Here are a few random things about me:

I have six tattoos. I want a couple more.

I have been skydiving.

I have gone on two humanitarian missions with the military.

I know more about the human eye than most anyone wants to know.

I have had two miscarriages and have one living teenage child.

I love the Green Bay Packers, San Antonio Spurs and the UW Badgers.

I’m a sports fan and enjoy watching nearly all sports.

I played soccer in high school and on an adult co-ed league.

I’ve played quite a few other sports too.

I’m Christian but not religious.

I believe in light, love, faith, good karma, warm nights, hot baths, cold drinks, strong hugs, the giggle of babies, and true love heal all that ails our world.

Motherhood is the best gift God ever gave me.

Garbage in=garbage out. I cannot watch videos or movies depicting humans defiling other humans in any shape or form. It isn’t entertainment to me and it poisons my heart and soul. I have to protect my soul from evils like that.

I’m not perfect (read any other post in this blog for evidence) but I aim to be a good person and do right by others.

I’m passionate about what I believe and rejoice in it often.

Few people truly know me although many think they have me pegged.

I’m constantly brewing with ideas and theories about endless facets of the human condition although I have no audience or group in which to volley those ideas.

I’ve been in love 3 times but only one man holds the keys to my heart and he’s the man of my dreams although he isn’t mine.

Married once and divorced once.

I’ve secretly (well not so much anymore I guess…) thought I was capable of being a bodybuilder.

The home I live in is the first home I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve always had to live in other people’s homes but never my own until now. And I built it.

I rarely get sick.

I love spicy food, Thai food, hearty meals, and light fare.

I like a good beer, Crown Royal and Dr Pepper, or glass of wine for special occasions or in social situations. Otherwise my favorite beverages are coffee, Dr. Pepper and unsweet iced tea.

My real dad and step dad have both died.

I don’t suffer any addictions.

I cry easily and often. When I laugh, when I’m sad, touched by a song or gesture, kindness, a good song, spiritual movements, and more.

I love to read.

I love to learn.

I’m not a great cook but can make some mean peach cobbler.

I’m a great teacher and decent writer.

I try to always remember where I came from so I never lose sight of where I’m going.

Humility and kindness go very far in any situation.

And to put my feather in my cap, my son thinks I’m pretty dope, a great mom and that I understand him better than anyone.

I don’t know if any of this will develop into anything more but I think it’s important to sometimes sit back and take stock of who you are and what you’re about. I feel like I’ve been reacting a lot lately and it was high time for introspection.

Humbly yours,

The Repressed Peach

Better than I ever had.

I’ve been in a few relationships in my life, most notably my failed marriage. I’ve loved hard in each of the relationships and I’ve learned so much about myself and the depths to which I love and why I love people the way I do. I’ve learned what makes my heart skip a beat, the butterflies flutter in my tummy, and give life to the warmth of my soul.

Like the tender touch of a man’s strong hand on the small of my back. The tender smile during a shared joke or memory. Romantic gestures like a song sang softly in my ear while dancing in the living room. Warm, starlit nights in the backyard listening to music. Passionate kisses under the shower head, bodies wet and pressed against each other. The tiniest streak of jealousy exposed when a moment of time is stolen by another. One of my favorites is in the heat of passion, being lifted swiftly up around the hips of my man, and the kissing that follows. I have so many moments collected throughout the years from various experiences and yet no individual person gave me as much insight and memories as you.

Perspective.

Imagine only having Saturday sex in the shower with no foreplay, no passion, no tenderness, just obligation, selfishness, and mechanical sex. That was four years of my marriage. Not much compared to some, but a lifetime for me. I can’t operate like that. My husband, the person who was supposed to love and cherish me all my days, the person who fathered my child, was only interested in me after he was wasted. Imagine the person you’re married to only wants to have sex with you while they’re drunk. I’ve had many experiences and I can tell you that I have never felt so cheap and used. I felt taken and disgusted by the sex not cherished or loved. I didn’t even feel liked. I could’ve just been a hole in the wall and gotten as much out of the experience with the same result for him. My own husband made me feel like a cheap whore. As you can imagine, anything better than that had to be pretty good.

But baby, you were so much more than “pretty good”. Despite the imperfect nature of our relationship, you always made me feel like a queen. And not just any queen. I always felt like your queen. You cherished me. You made sure I heard it. You made sure I felt it in every touch of my body. Every word you uttered built me up and breathed life into me. Every moment you gave to me, no matter how long, gave me hope and peace. I felt connected to you in every way possible all the time. I never felt cheap. I never felt used. I never felt “less than”. I never felt empty. I never felt a void that needed to be filled. I never felt disrespected. Ever. And I still haven’t. Baby, in all that we’ve been through in this, you’ve been the best I’ve ever had. Hands down. The. Best. Ever.

I can’t imagine someone giving me anything more than what you have. I can’t imagine a partner who I understand without a single word uttered. A man who completes me in deeper ways than I can express. A soul so connected to me that I can nearly feel your battles waging war inside your heart. You’ll always be the best I ever had in this way too. ❤️

I feel like anyone else is just someone I would have to settle for. Someone who does just enough to maintain a decent relationship but lacks the passion we share. I don’t know if I can sentence myself to a life like that. I don’t know if I can have less than what you’ve given me. You’ve set the bar high babe.

Undyingly yours,

The Repressed Peach

Happy again

I wrote a post a couple months ago about this sense of sadness that was the undertone for all other emotions. And you know it’s been a minute since I’ve felt true happiness. I can’t say that I’m entirely there just yet, but I can say that I’m definitely on the upswing. I haven’t felt the need to cry humongous alligator tears over my heartache. I don’t feel a deep sense of foreboding. I don’t feel the full weight of the breakup on my shoulders every day. My thoughts aren’t consumed anymore. The songs I listen to speak to all aspects of my life instead of just my heart. Conversations I have don’t spark an immediate memory of us. It’s a good shift. It is a shift supported by some doctor prescribed chemical compounds that have altered my perception but I’m feeling some possible long term effects.

What we had will never be less than it was. Never. No matter how much time passes, what anyone says, or what we do about it… it will always be the best 5 years of my entire life. I will always relish our days, moments, sacred times. I will hold you close to my heart forever. I have just found that it’s not necessary for me to be sad anymore. I can be happy and still love you. I can be happy and still wish you happiness I can be happy and move forward with life. I’m working on the depths of happiness in the facets of life. Like finding happiness in the breeze outside, the beautiful melody of the wind-chime, the cool fresh air on my skin, a freshly made bed of clean sheets, the giggle of a baby nearby, a cold strong drink after a hard day’s work, and so much more. Happiness is being found in the usual moments of the gift of life God has given me. I’m grateful. I’m thankful. I’m blessed. And I’m peacefully happy.

I’m still a work in progress. Far from a finished masterpiece with many layers left to discover about myself and the world around me, and with fortitude, peace, happiness and good friends, I will find a deep spring of happiness that will run my whole life long.

Lovingly yours,

The Repressed Peach

Judgment.

Judgment is a very heavy word and yet it carries so many variations in meaning. Some use the word lightly and in amusing ways such as “don’t judge me and the kind of music I listen to” and others refer to it in biblical terms like “hell fire and brimstone”. Depending on the conversation, you might find both uses satisfyingly appropriate or not at all. Judgment has its place in society. It’s a testament of our values and our position on different topics and behaviors. Ultimately, it’s a reflection of our truths. Your truth is your perspective and your perspective is gained through experience. Everyone’s life is made up of experiences; some are good, others are bad, and some are down right awful. And yet, these experiences shape us into who we are. While judgment has its place and serves a purpose, there are times when judgment is ugly and comes from a place of hate. This is what I’m finding in some social circles. Not everyone can wrap their head around my life experiences and many certainly struggle with the tales of my love life. Vastly, I’ve received love and support from people near and dear to me. Strangers here have offered their two cents and given kind advice. Yet, there are others who don’t express any sympathy or offer any support for me in this. I get it… I know that some people cannot accept certain things about people. I know that others have varied life experiences that cause such disdain for certain aspects of life. Even more so, society has taken a serious stance about love affairs backed by religious teachings, idioms, and quips. With this said though, love affairs are scarcely different than any other woe life throws at you. Parenting troubles, financial ruin, marriage and divorce, homelessness, infertility, drug abuse, addiction, etc. all maintain parallels with love affairs that few people care to acknowledge. People dismiss the idea of a love affair as something someone chose or something that could’ve been avoided. Something that only sleazy human beings engage in. Immoral, baseless scums of the world are the perpetrators akin to pedophiles and rapists. However, the judgment so easily cast by those who’ve never experienced either side of the scenario lack understanding and intel. I could’ve no easier controlled who I fell in love with than the color of my hair or skin tone. I didn’t set out to fall in love with a married man. I didn’t go to work at a specific place to meet my soulmate. I didn’t get put in the same office as this man so that I could wreak havoc on his and my own life. No. I didn’t set out for this course purposefully. In fact, I planned exactly the opposite in regard to relationships. I made vows to myself that I found to be incredibly hard to maintain as I got to know this man. I realized with each passing day, that no matter what I did, I could not resist him and he couldn’t resist me either. It was something cosmic, something so much bigger than just a tasteless, lust-filled, carnal act. Yet again, it was exactly the opposite; it was a rich, life-giving, passionate, eye opening, life-changing experience. Unlike the judgment and the social constructs that ridicule and shame this type of relationship, I found myself full of love, able to love deeper than ever before, and soulfully connected to my mate.  The love I developed, and the love I still have for this man, was deeper and more intense than any other feeling I’ve had in my life. Love stories are made of this stuff. Songs are written. Shakespeare wrote of this. Beethoven crafted masterpieces with this. Michelangelo painted with this passion. Buildings were erected and wars won with the love and passion my soul carries for this man. So see, this experience shapes my reality. It shapes how I see others around me as it helps me see them  for who they are while giving me insight to the limits of human understanding. We all have our own cross to bear; some crosses may seem more familiar or we can nod in appreciation for what another has to endure, but make no mistake about it, a cross is a cross is a cross.

In closing, one of my favorites idioms:

“Those who live in glass houses ought not throw stones.”

Be mindful of the judgment you cast on others as you endure your own battles in life. We are all just trying to make every day count and no matter how hard we try, we aren’t gonna get out of it alive. It makes little sense to cause others too much trouble along the way as you just might trip on your own robes in the process.

Thoughtfully,

The Repressed Peach 

A work of progress

I have long thought that perfectionism was a virtue and that I was going to master it. Recently, I have learned otherwise. I am not going to perfect perfectionism, not even close. I am a constant work of progress. Indulge me a few moments to fill you in.

What I once used as survival techniques to get through a challenging childhood I held on to through the early years of adulthood. I didn’t realize I didn’t need to use those sharp tools anymore. I didn’t need to wield my mighty sword and slay dragons because dragons were no more. I was free of those burdens but in the meantime, I hadn’t learned how to deal with a whole new world and a whole new me that didn’t need to fight for life, for a future, for hope. The battle was won and I was free to live fully. I just didn’t know it.

At age 21, the Air Force had beckoned my name and I enlisted. I still didn’t know how to live a good life but what I was doing up to the point I signed the dotted line definitely wasn’t working well. So I changed. I did something different. One thing I’ve always been good at is realizing when I’m not getting the results I expected.

As an Airman Basic, a smidgen older than the majority of the young adults who had joined alongside me, yet I was not much better off in knowing how to speak to people and represent myself without sounding like a jerk. I was a diamond in the rough. A huge chunk of proverbial coal that needed to go a couple rounds in the rock tumbler to knock some sharp edges off. And my work of progress was catapulted into full speed ahead. I’ve had many mentors along the way. Some people took the liberty to love me and help me grow while others couldn’t care less for me and they too helped me grow. I was determined to realize my full potential in life as well as in the military. I needed perfection. I needed acceptance. I needed to be ok. As a result, I learned my job very quickly and became a well-recognized ophthalmic technician across the globe. I was an expert in my field by all accounts. I was not perfect yet though. I had a lot more to learn and more I wanted to accomplish.

And then I became a wife and a mom. My ideals of how life would go changed. The picture of perfection became a more skewed, adulterated concept and I started to abandon the idea altogether. I was just going to do what was good and necessary and life would be ok. I was wrong. Perfectionism is wrong too, let me be clear about that, but just doing enough isn’t enough either.

As I’ve aged I’ve become more aware of myself and my place in the world. I long for feedback which helps me grow, but my source of feedback has changed. I seek wisdom and guidance from my Lord. I don’t seek approval from my peers or supervisors as much as I once did. And I am humbled by the constant ebb and flow of my energy and drive to be a better version of myself. I realize more clearly now than ever before, perfectionism is for wimps and the weak of heart. As a relatively new teacher, I have not perfected my craft. I have a lot of work to do to become a fantastic teacher. As a single mom, I don’t play with my son enough and I forget things that he wishes I would remember. I don’t forget on purpose, I just don’t know all the things that are important to him yet. As a Christian woman, I don’t have all the answers and certainly don’t have my scriptures memorized. I can’t even tell you what chapter of the bible certain stories are in! I criticize, I judge, I break rules and I am still a bit too sharp-tongued at the most inopportune times. While I do many things well, I am nowhere near perfect.

Perfectionism says I am good enough right now and forevermore so hold your peace. Perfectionism declares change is not necessary, and more importantly, irrelevant, because one will be devolving rather than evolving meaning that being perfect doesn’t lend itself to growth. I am definitely no longer a perfectionist. I am most definitely a person in search of new versions of myself and am eager to write new chapters in my life. I am just a constant work of progress.

Progressively yours,
The Repressed Peach