What doesn't kill you...

People who build you up. People who inspire you. People who break you. People who enter and exit your life without you noticing. People who shape you. People who you help create.

The other night I was conversing with a dear friend of mine when he said, "... I am a master at keeping people well past an arms length from my heart... She not only broke my heart, but my soul as well..." This conversation, these words have lingered in my bones for days. They have dangled like chandelier earrings while I brush my teeth in the mirror each morning. They have massaged my scalp, repeating as I wash, rinse, repeat. It's not the notion, the idea of being broken by someone. I am more than experienced with the devastation rooted in a broken heart. It's the idea that has wedged itself in between the curve of the B, lounging like James Dean on the T. People, and how a person can effect us.

It is wildly debated, does a person have power over us or do we ALLOW them to have power over us. I really don't know how I feel about that. I know that even though I walk around daily with a false bravado and confidence brushing my shoulders like my red curls what people say haunts me. Is that because I ALLOW it to, or because the truth is people are what makes the person?

I can think, without strain, of at least five people who have helped shape me into the woman I am today. A neighbor who let me borrow her sexy romance novels when I was 12. A man who I was too scared to call "Dad." A teacher who taught me to read. A man who engulfed every ounce of me like a Cuban cigar, letting me stain his fingertips and make a home of his lungs, just close enough to his heart to make me feel warm before releasing me into the stale, cool air. Women who inspire me. Women who encourage me. Women who are better than me.

A person is the company they keep. A person is the experiences they have.

I think people need to focus more on what is going on, instead of what is ahead. The stranger sitting two seats in front of you on the bus, the girl who brings you your pasta bowl refill, the boy who rotates your tires... who is the judge on what is significant? Who decides what is significant, and what will or won't effect you years down the line.

I know I carry with me far more than I ever expected from the people who I have crossed paths with. But, at the end of the day it is those things I carry that create the creative, loving, affectionate, ambitious, ruthless woman I am today.

I feel no shame in that. Maybe hesitation. Perhaps a little fear. Even a little resistance. But no shame.

An Ode To Friends

I feel the need to express my appreciation. For the past few months I've been difficult and moody and emotional and the three of you have stuck by me without question or fear. I mean it when I say I would be lost without you, because you all are what has kept me above water this whole time. I'm a firm believer that in life you have two families, the families you are born with and the families you choose. I'm honored to call each and everyone of you family. Because I love you, and am so thankful to have you in my life.

I know you all well enough to know that you are wondering where this is coming from. Lets call it a moment of clarity, a moment of acceptance. I'm finally reaching out and allowing the harsh truth to wash over me with it's painful possibilities. And in this moment with it's beautify and tragedy and fleeting significance I wanted to tell you, all of you, that I love you. That you are my family. That to me, you three are home.

Thank you <3