It’s Thanksgiving morning, the skies are windy and stormy. Water in the sky. It’s a bittersweet lullaby, the silence of solitude and the light echoes of feline paws touching the floor… and the thoughts race, not so silently.

Never is the morning more silent than when the first of many different firsts arrive. They say these are the ones that hurt the most. You know that saying “that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?” – It’s true but it’s a bunch of bs…. and boy has life kicked me in the proverbial dick this year.

A great deal of things have transpired since I last was in this space. Too many to list, too chaotic to relive, too painful to endure all over again. Some spots have seen so much destruction, immeasurable heartbreak and disappointment. Some have been lights in dark rooms. One thing I have learned and am actively trying to engrain is that I will never move forward if I am constantly looking back. I’m bound to trip over something. It’s all a part of the learning process. Fall, get up. Hit the floor, stay there a bit. Finding the will to rise and completely demolish the broken home in hopes that you can salvage the foundation and rebuild into something stronger, better.

I don’t expect you to know or understand me, my decisions or my space. I am not in the business of proving anything to anyone and I am sure there has been plenty of misguided judgement and blame thrown in my direction this year. Have at it. At the end of the day, I know my truth. I live my truth. I feel my truth. And some of it is heinous and cruel and despite everything, I carry it within me, more silently than I should at times. Even amongst the maelstrom, I sleep peacefully on most nights… because when you walk away for the right reasons, with the best intentions in your heart, when you know your choices are an act of love or mercy or thinking about someone other than yourself… you don’t give a fuck what anyone wants to say, do, or assume about you. I know me better than you ever will and SHE is untouchable, fallible, delicate yet steel strong in ways you will never know or have the privilege to understand.

I’m desperately trying to learn about forgiveness and surrender. The repair of fractured trust. Tending to one’s own fires instead of putting out everyone else’s with water you don’t have to spare. All while learning to stand on your own feet and build pillars for the not-so-little in the middle of it all. It’s like juggling daggers… which can be fun, exhilarating but one wrong move and you’re bleeding everywhere.

November: The month of gratitude. I try to be grateful every day… and I make those lists often and year round. And I’m so fucking thankful to have air in my lungs, a wonderful space over my head that I call home, felines who know when I need it the most, the love and respect of my radiant Daughter, my amazing Sisters, the Coven of support, love and friendship that has held my hand, wiped my tears – from far and wide- forever reminding me of who I am when I don’t see her in the fog. You know who you are… it does not go unnoticed.

I celebrated my 45th birthday last week in what ended up being one of the hardest weeks yet. My trip around the sun anniversary is like your New Year’s Eve. I look back, overthink, reflect and resolve. Boy, has my life turned up over on itself in the past year, that’s for fucking sure. Change is some tough stuff, and the best lessons never arrive easily. Healing does not arrive without discomfort.

I will say this, I go into it with more security in myself, more confidence than I had, a hell of a lot less fear and maybe just a little bit more hope that better is on its way. It already is.

Forever, North.