Teas & Memories

I crossed the slush covered street, stepping lightly and quickly, a smile coming to my face as the cold wind whipped into my hoodie. It was far different weather than my last visit to this quaint place. I stepped inside, my eyes darting to a table and little smile and a memory came to the forefront. Seven months later nearly to the day, I found myself standing in this same sweet little coffee shop thinking about iced matcha lattes despite the bitter cold outside the door. Today there was no one waiting for me, yet the memory lingered and if I looked past the 2 people sitting at the table of my memory I could see myself there, a black and white stripped sundress and black sandals, sunglasses likely perched on my head smiling at the gentleman across from me.

I stood at the counter in my hoodie contemplating: iced matcha latte despite the frigid temperatures or something new. A lavender honey black tea hot latte caught my eye and in that moment I knew this was not a time to reminisce with my previous beverage. With a beautiful piping hot beverage in hand I sank down onto the couch, just beyond a small divider from where I had sat months previously. A smile crept onto my face as I sat there sipping the steaming latte and reflecting on my first trip into this shop.

It was a sunny warm day in June and I walked into this cute little beverage shop in a sundress and my favorite sandals, a nervous flutter in my stomach but a smile on my face. I looked around briefly and spotted my date, matching his picture thankfully and my smile grew bigger. He sat there with a iced matcha latte a small smile on his face, looking slightly relieved from my perspective. It's always a little awkward those first dates, even after conversations on the app and seeing pictures it still never quite captures the uniqueness of the person you are meeting. I sat down briefly and we chatted before I popped up to order my drink. I stood there at the counter somewhat overwhelmed with the choices and distracted by my date sitting at the table, eventually landing on a matching drink. My mind was spinning at moments thinking "I hope he doesn't think I'm ordering this just because he did". In truth, his drink looked appetizing; I was just learning to enjoy matcha lattes; and, at the very least, we could compare notes on drinks, yet somehow I knew that we would likely have much more to talk about than our drinks.

Back at the table I smiled, took a breath, and simply started talking. I likely babbled, but the longer we sat there the more we shared and soon we were laughing and sharing stories. The drinks long finished and the conversation flowing easily, no awkward pauses or uncomfortable silences. Questions were tossed back and forth, and I would think that to those around us they would not likely know that we were sitting there on a first date. It was certainly easier and lighter than the others I had been on prior. As always on those first dates I could be nothing more than me, yet I knew this was a more authentic me in that moment. Sitting with my hot lavender latte I could fade the patrons away and see us sitting there 7 months ago, awash in conversation from books to Mini Coopers to adventure stories. The conversation and joy flowing easily over the hours. Time was lost on that day, it was a harsh awakening back into the world when he realized the time. I found myself shocked that nearly 3 hours had passed over a single beverage. I had thought maybe an hour and a half, yet it was double. Little was I to know in that moment that this would be a standard for our interactions, time speeding by as we discuss politics, snowboarding, technology, life, divorce, food, and yes even matcha lattes.

The scent of lavender fills my nose and mouth with each sip, soothing my anxiety momentarily and drawing up happy memories from the past 7 months. I want to sit on this couch for hours and ground myself in the memories, yet life beckons me onward to cheer for my children at a cheerleading competition. I am still reluctant to leave, just as I was on my first visit here. On that day in June we walked back to our cars together smiles on both our faces, a lightness in my heart, and a strong desire to see each other again. I promised to text him later as he did not yet have my number, and with this successful date I was ready to share my number. That first text was the start of many, just as the date was the start of many.

It has not been easy, there have tears and panic and anxiety. There has been miscommunication, projection, fear, and triggers. There was a break much needed by both parties, even if not wanted by both, but mutual respect for each other and a desire to maintain the friendship kept the communication lines open. Seven months later after those first iced matcha lattes we find ourselves together on our own unique path, undefined, yet inherently us. The conversations continue in similar fashion to our first, bouncing from subject to subject and time is lost. Invariably one of us catches a clock and realizes it is hours past when our time should have ended and one of us has to leave. There are nights when the conversation continues onward via text, and others it simply ends for the night to be picked up the following day. The connection and chemistry transcending physical presence.

It would have been nice to return to the scene with him accompanying me, yet today it was the gift that I did not know I needed. I sat in silence, smiled, reflected on the journey, dreamed about the future, and had a grounding moment in a day of anxiousness. It was not planned to return there today, it simply happened. I was in the area and wanted a hot cup of tea, as I walked in the bitter wind towards the shop it was only then that I realized where I was heading had history. I could see us there with our teas, I could reflect on the drinks we've had over the past 7 months, the meals, the laughter and the growth within each of us. Maybe one day we'll revisit and sit and enjoy iced matcha lattes again, maybe we won't, yet today's visit gifted me peace and for that I am thankful for the tea and memories.

Goodbye 2023

I'm not here to say that 2023 was the year that forged me, or give the year that broke me a silver lining. 2023 was brutal, and no amount of sugar coating will change that. I lost friends in unexpected ways, in the cruelest ways, lost community, and lost myself. It was a year of anxiety, depression, medication ups and downs, frustration, tears, tears, and more tears. I fought, I cried, I crumbled, I dissolved. I got help, lots of help. I reached out to the best of my abilities, and yet I still kept so much to myself, until it would come pouring out like steam from a teakettle on an unsuspecting bystander. There were days that a single look could trigger me.

2023 broke me, shattered me, burned me to the ground. Ashes left. No path, no direction. I left a job with a team that I enjoyed when my world burned away. I had to start anew, and yet it wasn't the fresh start that I truly envisioned. I was still so broken, trying to find something among the ashes. I struggled to do the things I enjoyed from hiking and backpacking to reading to writing. My blog silent as the thought of sharing all the details and struggles were simply too much. Many days were simply about breathing and finding the energy to get through work and caring for my kids, extra activities were simply that- extra. 

As I left the fog of the spring and found my way into summer I was still so broken, yet I was coming around, finding time and space for me. Seeking out new friendships, exploring new relationships, yet still dealing with anxiety and depression. Hiking and backpacking which had always been a beautiful escape and healing place was not always a safe space with the ongoing unhealed trauma of forcibly losing the APT. There were so many unknown triggers, and yet there was an individual who made me feel safe. They listened and welcomed me, cared for me, and simply let me be the mess that I could be at moments and was there when I came to the other side. A beautiful safe person among the chaos who simply liked me for me.

My 2023 adventures were nothing of what I had planned. The trips, the hiking, the backpacking, the outings with my kids, all a struggle while working through the remnants of a mental health crisis. As the summer progressed I could see that the late winter and spring had truly been a mental health crisis for me, and while I was on the healing end of it, it was, and still is, at times terrifying to see where I was. I found comfort on the water, instead of on land with a pack on my back. Time on my paddleboard or in a kayak became some of that refuge, as well as books. I could lose myself in a story and forget about my own world, lost in a character, lost in the fantasy world of magic and Fae. The strength of these characters a lifeline for myself who had lost her strength, her spark, her everything. Even as the summer progressed and I began to find my footing and moments of joy and happiness and laughter found me more often there were struggles with anxiety. Court came and went, changes to a custody agreement that had been in place for 5 years, with the knowledge that more changes would be coming as the year progressed.

The fall came and kids became a large focus again with school beginning, activities, and I needed to also make time for me. Hiking began to appeal to me, so a few short trips were had, these with such different feelings from years past. No longer about mileage, but about being there. Breathing in the air, listening to nature, stopping to read my book for a while at a stream with my feet in the water. Stillness, peace, healing must have been what I sought, that I could not simply find within the confines of my home. Peace and healing also occurred with the person who made me feel safe, though there were triggers there too. When one has become accustomed to trauma, abuse, and instability in a relationship the safety of another could trigger me. I was waiting for the explosion or implosion, projecting history onto one who was simply not that way.

2023 left battle scars. I lost weight from the depression and anxiety, the medication that I so desperately required made me gain it all back and then some. Emails, texts, and social media posts could trigger me into an anxiety spiral. There were so many moments where I felt like I could not breathe, and physically I had breathless moments. November found me digging out my inhaler from my drawer as illness descended and moving air became a challenge. My house a construction zone, my new job becoming ever more a challenge and a pain point, my kids activities taking over, custody battle ongoing, and the holidays closing quickly. I craved comfort, peace, safety, security, and yet it was so far away, nearly unattainable.

2023 closed with a new adventure, snowboarding. Something I had wanted to enjoy with kids earlier, yet life had always intervened. Two days in the snow in the Poconos of Pennsylvania learning, falling, laughing, and falling in love with something new. The inner joy and pride at looking up a slope and seeing that this time you made it 3/4 of the way down without falling; knowing that this current fall was because you were trying to turn and dug in too much of an edge, not because you panicked. This trip gave me a multitude of gifts, one of which is simply finding the joy in adventuring again and the resilience in picking yourself up again after falling. I watched my children cheer each other on; I watched them cheer me on, and we all bonded on the snow. Though many runs blend together a few stand out, and as I balanced and made my way down I found I had a personal cheering squad, a single individual there applauding me, and that my friends, made my day. A single person there solely for me, happy for me, proud of me for doing nothing more than not falling. A simple little gift, but one I will cherish. I never would have imagined at the start of 2023 that a small mountain with manmade snow would be the highlight of the year, but it has been. 2023 broke me, challenged me, changed me, and left me adrift, yet it ended with a beautiful adventure. No silver linings, a simple shift into 2024 with a new love and a goodbye wave to 2023.

Out of the Ashes

"I told you that this was going to happen!" I nearly yelled into my phone as I paced in the street in my socks and running gear. The calm and peace of my recent run obliterated with a simple phone call to my attorney after another custody issue. While I could not bring myself to say the words "I told you so" I offered her a version of it, speaking my truth, knowing that the arrangement that was set in July would not work beyond the summer. I stood in my running gear, my mind remembering that morning.

Standing outside a courtroom, my heart pounding, shaking slightly, awaiting an attorney that I had spoken with on the phone, but not yet met in person. My usual attorney unavailable, so a new one for the practice come to represent my and my interests in this ongoing custody battle. My anxiety threatening to skyrocket as I remembered the moments a few months earlier when my world crashed just around the corner from where I currently stood. I breathed slowly, centered on the details upon the wooden door in front of me, and fought to calm myself. As my attorney arrived we smiled and I was boosted by her countenance. In we went, I entered with a small measure of confidence, having been assured that nearly nothing would change with this simple hearing. The officer spoke, the attorneys spoke, I heard snippets, but I also heard a roaring in my ears. It was nearly too much at moments, yet I stayed as calm as I could. Moments of the discussion haunt me; his attorney twisting my actions and my generous nature into something different while my attorney sat there in silence. I managed to stay quiet, knowing that it was not for me to speak to the officer in that moment. It is only now that I regret not saying anything to my attorney.

Into the hallway we went to strategize and come to a "solution" to the custody issue that the court found at hand. I had no issue with the current arrangement, yet with their dad wanting more time there was an issue. Back and forth the attorneys went between us offering ideas. I balked at so many of them, beginning to grow angry and ever more anxious. What was happening? I had been assured on multiple occasions that this would not be happening right now; that I would have had more time before anything changed. I downright laughed at a few suggestions. I told my attorney multiple times that the proposed changes would work for the summer, but that there would be issues come the start of the school year. My voice was not heard, ignored again. Years of experience and failed expectations meaning nothing to the person representing me, nor the court. In defeat I agreed to a plan, it was that or enter the courtroom and let them make a new arrangement without having any input. Back into the courtroom and the officer was pleased we came to an agreement temporarily. It was determined that we would return in a few months to discuss adding even more time before a final court date would be determined. I was defeated, confused and angry.

Leaving the courthouse I shook in anger and disbelief. How did this happen? I regretted my decisions a year ago to try to move to Oregon and find a fresh start. I began to berate myself, thankfully a friend intervened and helped remind me that I was allowed to want a fresh start, to pursue big dreams and goals. There is the possibility that without the propulsion of my relocation bid this custody change may have never occurred but there is no knowing, and with the guidance of friends and someone special they helped me reset and find some temporary peace with the upheaval.

Standing in the street my anger rising at the loss of my voice months earlier I unleashed more of it on the attorney. Document, document, document I was told. He's been given an opportunity and continues to fail at parts of it she tells me. A few weeks later we are repeating this conversation and I am yelling at her, my frustration at its breaking point. It's not fair to the kids, it's not fair to me, and it's in violation of the agreement. I am powerless in the moment to do more than yell and document it all. Documentation in the moment feels futile, sitting and holding space for a time that is months away with nothing that can change in the interim. My needs, the needs of my children feeling as if they have been thrown aside for what feels like a whim, though I know it is not a whim. I know in my heart that their dad loves them, and wants more time with them.

It is my fears, my experiences with him, and watching their experiences with him over the past 6 years being divorced, and then the years prior that have me proactively advocating for them, defending them. For 6 years I have been there nearly every night for them, driven them to practices, picked them up, taken them to the doctor and more. In about 5 years Miss B will graduate high school and my life will be forever changed with them as legal adults and high school graduates. All of this swirls in my head and more as I speak with my attorney, unable to easily voice my concerns and voice them coherently. My children, my crew as I often call them, are a huge part of my world, my goal to raise them to be kind, compassionate humans without a sense of entitlement. I fear what happens to them when they have less time with me during these teenage years when they require more guidance and shaping. The teenage years are a revisiting of the toddler era yet with humans that can speak clearly, and in my case are all taller than me. It is in these years that they work to find their identities and they need enough freedom to explore and experiment, but the safety and security of home with love and boundaries. How do I provide that in the manner that I feel they need when they are with me less? I know that many split families do this constantly, and yet I can't help but challenge against something that feels so inherently wrong for my family.

With a final court date arriving in a month I think about those afternoons spent pacing in the street in my running gear, sans shoes, advocating for myself and my children to my attorney, a mother's passionate plea to adjust things to provide more stability to the 4 humans that I am blessed to call my children. I can see the fear I held, and that I continue to hold. I hear the underlying intense love I have for them, and the protectiveness that so many parents feel for their children. I see a woman finding her voice after being burned to ashes, left with nothing, and doing this out of love, not desperation. I see her acknowledging her fears, her own inadequacies, and yet still finding strength and stones upon which to stand and step to pursue what she believes is best for her family through love and advocacy. There is no phoenix here rising from these ashes, nor a rebirth; there is a woman growing, changing, loving, and fighting with love for herself and her family.