We often think of our past relationships and only reminisce on the hurts, the sadness, the betrayals, the anger, the jealousy, and let's be real....the fucked up things we both did. But honestly I want to take a moment to celebrate my past relationships, the amazing men who have been in my life, and the less than amazing men who have been in my life and say thank you. 

In every relationship I have had I learned something about myself and others, I got unexpected gifts, I made life long friendships, met amazing people, had incredible life experiences, and got closer and closer to my truth. Sure, do I wish there were easier ways to get to some of these outcomes.....abso-fuckin-lutely! But the reality is that sometimes in our darkest moments we find our greatest causes of celebration.

So, to my exes....thank you!!

1. Thank you for being in that hospital room with me when I found out I had a broken neck. You truly were my ex (yes my ex boyfriend was in the hospital with me), but it was amazing to have someone who had already seen me naked help get my clothes off....so they didn't have to be cut. It was amazing to have someone who had already seen me cry there to dry my tears. It was incredible to have an advocate, who knew me so well, that knew when I was asking for pain meds I had to be in the worse pain of my life. It was amazing that you knew how to make me laugh when I was scared and recognized how important it was to me to be able to walk out of that trauma unit wearing my heels and do it on my own accord. Regardless of everything else that unfolded between us, both before and after this night, thank you.

2. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be an important person in your two daughters lives. I have never had biological children of my own, but to have that relationship, and well to still have that relationship with one of them has truly been the most amazing gift. I have never met a young person like Jessica. She had my heart from the moment I met her and she has taught me more about unconditional love than any other person on this planet. I love our conversations, our spiritual connection, our ability to talk through and about anything, our shared desire to make this planet a better place. I love that she will eat anything I cook her and that the sight of her face can make me smile. I would walk through hell (and in some regards I might say our relationship was hell) if it brought me to Jessica. To me, it is worth it, to have her in my life. 

3. Thank you for showing me that love is a feeling, truly a feeling, one that is felt through my heart, body, mind and soul. I spent the majority of my life in relationships because they were smart, with the right person, popped the correct boxes, and were what I was meant to do for that time in my life. But you came into my life like a freight train and there was no part of this relationship that made sense, was right, or was sustainable. But you taught me how to love, you taught me what a broken heart felt like, and you taught me how to feel....truly feel.

4. Thank you for moving me to Southern California. It was time for my life to transition from my hometown. It was time for my career to change. It was time for me to spread my wings. You made all of that happen. I spent 15 years in Southern California and 10 of them with a career that I loved at OPD. While in So Cal, I made friendships with some of the most important women in my life today. I made incredible memories, both with you and without you. I had fucking amazing adventures! I had the honor and privilege of being the wife of a LEO. And more importantly I found myself - my authentic voice, I grew up, I started to learn how to love myself, and I started to find my truth. And damn my diamond ring was gorgeous!

5. Thank you for showing me my power. I was living my life and playing small. I wasn't living the life I was supposed to lead. I was people pleasing and living my life for others, because it was what I was "supposed" to do and be. Teaching me this lesson was not your intuition, but through our affair you set me free. It was as if the mask came off as I "broke the rules." I felt confident to step into who I was meant to be as a woman, with my career, and honestly with the rest of my life. I know you have nothing but resentment and hatred for our experience together, but I want to say thank you.....you gave me my wings to fly.

6. For many people their first broken heart is in their teens or maybe in their 20's. For me, my first broken heart was in my 40s. And although it caused a pain greater than my broken neck, it has also been the biggest gift. I spent a large part of my life afraid to feel, numbing my emotions, and running from the intensity of love, anger, sadness, etc. But in order to have a broken heart you have to feel and in order to survive a broken heart you have to go deep with yourself. There is a saying, and I don't know the author, that says our hearts break so they can open wider. I truly felt that my broken heart caused my heart to open more, has allowed me to know the light of love and the darkness of pain. Thank you for teaching me how to feel.

7. I destroyed you. I broke you. I did not treat you the way you deserved to be treated. I took your love for granted. I violated our vows. I have no excuse. All I can say is broken people, break people. I was broken. I want to say thank you for loving me. I want to say thank you for being an incredible man, an amazing person, for the fun times we had, for the adventures we shared. I want to say thank you for having such a pure heart. I want to say thank you for treating me like a queen, before I knew I deserved to be treated like one. I want to say thank you for your romantic gestures, for taking care of me, for celebrating me. Just straight up thank you and I am sorry, truly sorry.

8. I didn't know if I would love again. I didn't know if I was chasing a feeling that a ghost. I didn't know if my desire to have an emotional, intellectual and sexual connection was something I just made up in my head, or a reality. You showed me that I could love again. You made my dreams a reality. You made me feel loved, sexy, intelligent, funny, desirable, confident, and worthy. You were consistent, you followed through on your promises, and did what you said. You gave me a glimpse of what an amazing relationship should look and feel like. Thank you!

I know there are others in my life who also deserve a thank you or an apology, but these men played pivotal roles in my life and experienced defining moments with me. I truly believe that relationships often come in our lives for a reason or a season and I can say that in every relationship mentioned there was a reason and a season. I haven't met "my king" yet but I truly have to say thank you to the men in my life. And as I close out 2021 it is time for me to get on my knees with gratitude, say goodbye to my past, and welcome my future. 

I can hardly believe that it has been almost two years since I found myself sitting in an airport bar flying to Virginia for a job interview, watching as the NBA shut down their season and my state started to close up. I remember talking to the traveling sales man next to me and we laughed about a 2 week stay at home order, both celebrating traveling less for work, just for a bit. 

And yet here we sit, continuing to fight this pandemic, watching friends and family struggle with their health, missing loved ones, and dealing with a fear that we have never known in our lifetimes. I think we have all felt the gamut of emotions - Fuck will this ever end? Will I get sick and/or die? Am I going to get my family sick? When can I just go eat at a restaurant again? Why does my face keep breaking out in this mask? And countless other questions/emotions we have encountered along the way.

But as the holidays approach, I wanted to pause and make a few observations, a bit of a pandemic reflection of sorts. For the record, this is not a political post. I am vaccinated and I have had a booster. I do wear a mask. But also no judgment if you have made other choices.

I had high hopes that this pandemic would unify our country and the people in it, kind of a cause that we could all share. I remember the days after September 11th, when all of us had so much love and empathy for each other, a joint pain. And although I never hope for another 9/11, I was hoping the pandemic would bring us closer to love, and father away from hate. I have witnessed the opposite impact as we have become more and more divided with each day, and for me personally that has been the biggest heart break.

Instead of the pandemic reminding us of what is important - family, friends, survival, a roof over our heads, and food on our table, we have found reasons to judge. I have been disappointed to watch the fighting unfold, both on social media, and within my own family and friend circle. The arguments over vaccinations, masks, political parties, statistics, and news articles. I don't understand how survival has become a Republican or a Democrat issue. I fail to comprehend how I can't love my neighbor because of their personal health choices, or even worse persecuting them for those ideas. 

Sure, I have my personal beliefs, just like everyone, but why are my beliefs the right ones? Why should I criticize the beliefs of others? My personal attitude is that I will do what it takes to get over this pandemic - wear a mask, get a vaccine or 7, but if that is not the road for you, I still respect you, and see no need to use this as a platform for hate. I especially don't understand the arguing. If you differ in beliefs, stay the fuck away from each other. Do you honestly think any level or arguing will change someones opinion? Do you think fighting will make the pandemic better? Do you think it will help our country or our world recover from this faster?

This year my family has decided to get together, although an abbreviated celebration. They are requiring vaccinations and a Covid test before the celebration. It is not at my house and I respect and love my Aunt and Uncle who are hosting. It does not matter to me what they require. The bottom line is that it is at their house, and just like before Covid I would respect their wishes, I respect their wishes now. It doesn't matter if they want me to wear a mask in their house, stand outside and yell at them from the doorway, because what really matters is my fucking family is alive, able to be together, able to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas. And sure my family love to cook and drink wine so I am even more excited that we get to do both, but not only during this holiday season, but during the last 2 years we have lost sight of what is fucking important. 

Let me take a moment to tell you what I am grateful for. My family and friends are alive, and not everyone has been so lucky. My family and friends get to be together to celebrate the magic of Christmas, and not everyone is able to. I do have food on the table and a roof over my head, where as there are plenty of people who do want for basic necessities right now.  I haven't been sick and those that are close to me who have been sick have been able to recover. I have incredible people in my life who love me and whom I love. I have looked death in the face, in my past, and I got the most amazing gift to survive and live another day.

And so I just ask you to take a pause this week, a pause in the fighting, a pause in the hate, and remember the true meaning of this season, or hell the true meaning of life everyday, and love your neighbor, be grateful, even if its for the smallest aspect of your life. And my prayer for this Christmas, New Year and everyday after is to please love, just love. 

It is not common for a food blogger to talk about eating disorders, but the reality is that I have struggled with eating disorders my entire life. Even today, being someone who loves to cook and to eat, I always know that I am one step away from counting calories at such a low level that it is not possible to sustain or working out 3-4 times a day or becoming obsessed with running distance again so that my body burns more than I can consume. 

I am one of those that after every episode I am convinced that I am healed, that I am better. However, I have found that when I feel out of control, I struggle to find an element of my life that  I have power over, and for me that is often food and exercise. I have been able to hide my disorder behind being small, being a runner, or being obsessed with a healthy lifestyle, but the reality is that my body has hid one of my darkest secrets. 

Oh I have a broken heart, lets stop eating. Oh, you listened to a man kill himself on the phone, I am not hungry. Oh, your marriage is falling apart, workout more, you aren't attractive enough to make it work. Fuck you are getting a divorce, run more. You feel out of control, do whatever the fuck it is to find some control again. 

The first time I stopped eating I was in Junior High. It was a new school, my Mom had just gotten married and had my baby brother. I would love to blame all of these life factors on triggering my eating disorder, but for me that wasn't the case, I was just no longer hungry. I didn't think of myself as having an eating disorder, having low self esteem, body image issues, or power and control issues, all of the factors that are often attributed to eating disorders. I just no longer wanted to eat. I wasn't depressed in the typical sense and I was getting good grades and making friends. My relationship with food just went from being good to very, very bad. Sure, now I know it was so much more, but as a child I just stopped eating. 

My Mom would pack me lunch and I would throw them away or put them in my locker, to be forgotten for eternity. The school janitor found those lunches and called my Mom, causing a great deal of embarrassment and questioning. The only thing it taught me was to hide the fact that I wasn't hungry even better. I ate, but always the very minimum, just enough to stay under the radar and keep everyone happy. 

The second episode or at least the once I was called out on,  was when I was a new Dispatcher. I was working long hours, night shift, obviously dealing with a great deal of stress. I had recently gone through a break-up and handled my first officer involved shooting. Again, I found myself not hungry, however this time I was living alone and subsisting on soup was an easy thing to accomplish, as the number on the scale continued to decline. As the scale went down my confidence increased. I felt back in control of my life, only now realizing that this was just another way to compartmentalize my trauma. 

One of the Officers pulled me aside, honestly probably saving my life, and told me he noticed that I was losing a lot of weight. He continued to check on me daily, making sure I was eating, and doing it in such a way that I knew he was coming from a place of concern and not judgment. I have never told him thank you and I hope you are reading this blog because I owe you my life. 

My third episode took a different form and I was able to justify in different ways. I was living in So Cal, married, had the perfect life on the outside, was in the best shape of my life....surrounded by people who are more perfect and beautiful than the one next to them. My marriage was falling apart, we were living separate lives, and I had nothing but time on my hands. 

 I was going to the gym 2-3 times a day. I would wake up early and go to the gym before work, a gym that had me eating only oranges and chicken. My husband worked night shift and so I went to the gym again after work, always cooking him dinner, making sure it was on the table waiting for him when he came home....already in containers so he would never notice I never ate what I made. 

I had the perfect life from the outside looking in, but I was unhappy and felt like I was living a lie. I again found myself grasping for control, as my husband begged for a baby that I knew I couldn't give him. We no longer knew each other, our careers had taken over our lives, and we wanted such different things from life. He eventually caught on to my gym and eating habits as the scale declined, and honestly staged an intervention, which again probably saved my life. 

However, our divorce happened shortly after this event, and again my eating disorder reared its ugly head as I entered the dating scene for the first time in over 16 years. I didn't feel attractive and the stress of going through a divorce and running a Communications Center was consuming, so I started running....and running some more....and adding distance. I ran 8 half marathons during the year I was going through my divorce, telling myself I was dealing with the end of my marriage in a healthy way. I couldn't eat enough calories for the number of miles I was putting on my running shoes. And this time it was an injury that required me to check myself. 

I got heavily into food blogging at this time, replacing running for cooking and eating. I thought my relationship with food had finally got to a healthy place....but the reality is that when you struggle with food and control....you are never fully recovered. 

During Covid, I put on weight like many of us and I often thought of going back to my old ways. It has been hard to age and watch my body change, regardless of exercise and diet. It is hard not to fall back into old habits. The struggle is real when you feel out of control or you are dealing with heart break or you want to get that flat stomach back, not to fall back to that which feels comfortable. 

As I have written more and more over the last few months about the reality of women - domestic violence, being the other woman, Daddy issues, etc, I felt that it was important to address another skeleton in the closet, once that I continued to battle every single day. I know I am not alone in this battle and so I write this to support all of us who have struggled, continue to fight and to recover. Take it one day at a time and remind yourself that you got this, or if you need me to remind you reach out, because I expect you to do the same for me. 

I have spent my entire life sitting on a curb waiting for my Daddy. 

From a young age I knew my family was different. I was raised by a single Mom and my biological family lived across the country. My aunts and uncles were my Moms friends, a family unit she created, as they migrated from NJ to California together. But I didn't think of my aunts and uncles as different because it was all I knew.

However, I knew, from the inside of my soul that I did not have a Daddy. I was raised with incredible male role models and some of them even fulfilled elements of a father figure growing up, but it is different. I was often told by my Mom that I couldn't miss what I didn't have, but I missed this man that I never met.

My Father was my Mothers college professor. I knew he was a professor of sociology, that he was actively involved in the Civil Rights movement, that he wrote a book on class relations in America, and I knew that he told my Mother "he was not ready for the responsibility of having a child." I knew he was Jewish and an only child, his parents deceased. I knew he got kicked out of Brown University, due to activism activities, and graduated from Columbia University. That is all I know. 

I have spent a lot of years trying to make him proud, even though he doesn't care and he never will. I used the very little I knew about him to drive my education, my career success, and to try and understand the decisions he made, based on random facts gleamed from childhood stories.

So, my Bachelors degree was just as much for him, as it was for me, as it sits on the wall of my office, never to be used. I didn't have children, choosing a career instead, only to question that decision years later after it was too late. I spent my teenage years studying Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, and even going to the Muhammad Ali museum 3 years ago on a trip to KY. I can quote black culture facts as if the culture was my own, know reggae and jazz music like it was a part of my soul, and know more about race relations in America well before it became trendy. I have been to every Holocaust museum in America and ask questions about the Jewish faith and ethnicity trying to see if my roots resonate with me in anyway.

My Mother moved across the country 6 months pregnant with me. The name field for "Father" on my birth certificate was left blank. I did not own a picture of that man who was half of my DNA and had no idea what he looked like until a YouTube video surfaced in my late 30's. 

I made attempts to reach him, sending letters at the age of 10, 18, and 35, all with no response. Those attempts becoming easier with the use of Google, only to make me more confident he received them, and making the rejection of no response a little greater each time.

But even more than my strange quest for knowledge comes a deeper knowing that you are different. A Father is supposed to be her Daughters first love. He is supposed to teach her how she should be treated by a man. He is supposed to show her what it means to feel safe and secure. He is supposed to kiss skinned knees, heal broken hearts, and let her know that no matter what happens she is loved.

And so with the lacking I have struggled with understanding what good looks like in a relationship, as I did not have a relationship or partner role model. I have gone through life trying on relationships for size, only to discard them, knowing they were the wrong fit, too little or too big. I went through men exploring whether I liked being worshipped or beaten, wondering where that man was who could love me like a queen, but still step into me with respect. 

I have felt my entire life feeling unsafe and I have searched for safety in countless areas of my life. There is no coincidence that the majority of my career was spent in law enforcement, providing me with a community, a sense of camaraderie, a physical and emotional safety, only to create a different set of problems. I have looked for safety in relationships, only to find that I forgot to check and see if my heart was involved, putting security above love, never a recipe for success. I have looked for safety in achievements - career success, accolades, educational goals, etc. Only to now realize that I have to feel safe inside, with myself, and only myself.

I became overly independent at a young age, knowing with a childs sense that I had to heal my own skinned knees, take care of myself, rely on myself, and only myself. Sure, in some regards this characteristic has made me who I am, but it can also be used to push people away and to run.

I have always said that I have no physical fears, let me jump out of a plane, rappel down a building, surf in Costa Rica, or climb mountains. But my fears are emotional - fear of rejection, abandonment, commitment, love and vulnerability. There is no coincidence that those characteristics correspond to growing up a little girl without her Daddy.

I now know that our parents did the best they could with what they had, within their capacity. This blog is not to blame or point fingers. I know that he made the decision that was right for him, and it is time for me to get up off that curb, dust myself off, love myself a little harder, and celebrate the gifts that he gave me. And so with that I say thank you John, Dad, Daddy, Father for giving me life, for your intelligence that I did inherit, my desire to help the world, and to be a part of something bigger. As the clock ticks, I often think of your age and I know that you might not physically be on this planet for much longer, so I will say goodbye and that I hope you have had an incredible life full of love, joy, and laughter. 

When I was a 911 Dispatcher I often hung-up the phone with domestic violence victims and asked myself,"why don't they just leave?" I couldn't understand why I would hear from the same callers time after time, night after night, and yet as the abuse continued to escalate, they continued to endure it.

 I hate to admit this, but I was judgmental as they shared their stories of emotional and physical abuse. I was frustrated and angry as I heard their children crying in the background, and yet they wouldn't get them out of that situation. I was irritated as I had to dispatch another officer to the same house we had already been out to three times that night, as they violated their own restraining orders. I was pissed after they left the shelters only to go back to the men who continued to abuse them.

I was a strong, independent, successful, intelligent, and financially secure female. I was cocky in the though that domestic violence would never impact my own personal life, as it was something that happened to other people, not me. But let me tell you, there is no demographic, and nobody is outside the scope of control. 

So, let me tell you why they don't just leave.

1. Isolation - by the time the abuse occurs you are alone. You are away from your friends and family, you do not have a support system, and you sacrificed so much that you are committed to trying to make it right, even if that means sacrificing yourself. And you continue to isolate yourself more, protecting the man that you love, withdrawing deeper and deeper into yourself. 

2. Love - after every event there is the promise of love, the apologies that give you hope, the belief that you are going to make everything better.....until the next time. There are the gifts, the nights out, the trips, and the experiences that are supposed to make you forget. 

3. Justification - with every new incident there is a new set of justifications - alcohol involved, stress, you poked the bear, you didn't back down, you hit their trigger buttons, you deserved it, if only you were better. And with that often comes their complaints about you - you are too much, too intense, too attractive to other people, too outgoing, too flirtatious, etc. 

4. Sacrifice - there is always something you don't want to lose, and that is exactly the way it was designed. You don't want to give up your home, your family, your image, your money, or countless other things that you just don't want to give up. So you sacrifice yourself instead. 

5. Disbelief - I must be misunderstanding what is occurring, this can't be happening to me, maybe I was drunk, there must be a valid reason for this happening. Were his hands really around my throat? 

6. Judgment - this happens to other people, this does not happen to me.

7. The Good Times - in between the bad times, there are good times, times which make you want to forget those nights of hell. So, you continue to hope that you can just be good, for a longer period of time, and maybe it won't happen again. 

8. Embarrassment - How do I get out? How do I tell the world that after I judged that it happened to me? How do I tell my friends and family that I had yet another failed relationship? 

9. Fear - with each incident it escalates and when you are in the middle of it there are times that you don't recognize your partner, and you feel primal fear. You look the person you are supposed to love in the face and they are unrecognizable. 

10. Blame - you get to a point where you feel that you are to blame. Hell, you may even believe you deserved it. I must have done something to provoke this. Shit, was I flirting with that bartender? Was my skirt too short? Was I too outgoing? Maybe I am too intense?

But, let me tell you something you did not deserve it, you did not provoke it, you did not cause it, and if you need a place to stay, money, a hand to hold, courage, or to talk, I am here. I don't care if it's the first time or the thirteenth, the story is different for all of us. 

For me, three was the magic number. I never looked back. I have spent a lot of hours in therapy, and honestly until she said the word trauma I thought I had come out of the experience unscathed. But just like any life experiences we carry the battle wounds, even if they aren't physically ingrained on our bodies. I got lucky, luckier than a lot of women, in that I walked away without retaliation, permanent injury, or future impact. 

I do not see myself as a victim, as this is a reality of many, a story way too familiar for women throughout this country. If anything I see myself as joining a club, one that nobody asked to be a member of, and the membership card is often invisible. 

However, I do owe a lot of women an apology, for ever doubting you as you called me for help. I understand now that you couldn't just leave, your situation was not easy, that you were trying to survive, and do the best you could. I get it that you were trying to protect your kids by not making the situation worse in that moment, that the abuse is often layered (physical, emotional, financial, etc). I have spent countless years doing research and understanding the cycle of domestic violence, the patterns of abuse, and victimology. You are not alone. 

I hope that at least on one of those 911 calls I was able to make a difference and help someone out of a difficult situation. I hope that I gave another woman the courage to leave, even when I couldn't. I hope that I never make the mistake of judging another woman again, and instead help when they are reaching out in need. And if you can't leave yet, that is ok, still no judgment, and only love. Just know that when you are ready I am here. 

 I was 19 when I made the choice.

It was a choice then, and it was a choice now  that I don't take lightly.

It was the right choice for me, although it is the most personal choice a woman can make.

It is a choice I think of often,  every year on February 17th. 

It is a choice that has shaped many of my life choices.

It was a choice, and still is a choice, that I am grateful I had as an option.

I made the choice not because I was a victim of trauma, sexual assault, rape, or incest.

It was MY choice and MY choice alone.

It is a choice that has impacted my relationships, ended my marriage, and made me decide not to have a family of my own.

It is a a choice that when my ex-husband told me he wanted I family I knew I couldn't give him one, not because of physical limitations, but because I had a child already....a child I would never forget.

For me, at the time, it was the only choice I had. 

I drove to another town far away to avoid the shame and watchful eyes of my small hometown. 

I sat in that doctors office and promised myself I would not bring a child into this world until I could know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the child would be wanted more than life itself. I do not have biological children.

I cried, staring at the car window on the drive home, with my arms around my stomach, feeling as if something was missing.

It is a choice that deals with my body and my body alone. 

It is a choice that in my opinion does not belong in the hands of others - not my God, my government, my family, or my society. 

It is a choice I believe in.

It is a choice that has impacted so many women I know.

It is a choice we often don't talk about.

It is a choice that we often hide due to shame, fear, embarrassment, judgment, and self-loathing.

If it was not your choice, or the choice you believe in, I respect that without question.

It is not the right choice for everyone, but it was the right choice for me.

 I have been on both sides of this fence. I have cheated and I have been cheated on. I would love to stand up here and pass judgment, and please know this is not a post that advocates for cheating and hurting other people, but this is an acknowledgment of what I have learned. I am not proud of what I did, the people I hurt or the decisions I made. But I am 100% proud of the woman I am today and the lessons I have learned. I am proud of myself for learning how to love and respect myself, how to support other women, and what my experiences have taught me. 

I will tell you that when I was cheated on it turned out to be the biggest gift because I would still be in a relationship that was abusive, unhealthy, and straight up not right for me. I will also say that when I cheated it was because my relationship was not in alignment, not growing, not for my higher good, for self-sabotage, and because I wasn't in a good place. Again, not making excuses, just reflecting. 

I also want to say an amazing thank you to my friends and family. I have made the choice to be real with those closest to me and they know the good, bad, and ugly about my past. They have given me the most incredible gift by continuing to love me without judgment, support me, and hold me through the pain....because as I have learned there is pain on both side of the fence.

I hate to say this, but being cheated on and cheating has taught me more in my life than any other life experience. It has taught me how to feel, how to love, how to be vulnerable, how to be real, how to surrender, and how to pray.

I was the other woman and I was the woman who was cheated on and this is what I have learned:

1. Trust your intuition. My relationship ended and I was told I was the most beautiful woman on the planet, but that he was not sexually attracted to me. I went through that break-up thinking it was me - I had done something wrong, been wrong, I was not sexy enough, smart enough, good enough....only to find months later there was someone else. It was honestly the greatest relief, to know that there was no "enough" because there was someone else. Ladies, trust your intuition. There is someone else. And if you are cheating, when you end it, be honest....I know it sounds counterintuitive, but they will appreciate it later. If you are conflicted on your current relationship, your heart knows if they are the one, trust your intuition, and get out if they are not. 

2. Stop blaming yourself. Happy people don't cheat. And I cheated when I wasn't happy and it was a cowardly way out. Not my proudest moment. Should I have found a better way out? 100 fucking percent yes. But I didn't and for those of you who have been cheated on, there is nothing you could have said or done or been differently. That relationship was not right. Don't blame yourself, just celebrate the fact that you survived and trust that the right "one" is coming and until that person arrives be the right "one" for yourself. 

3. People cheat when they can't face themselves. I cheated when I was trying to suppress and numb, afraid to face my demons. It didn't matter that I was married to an amazing man, it didn't matter that I was sabotaging my life. I was running from my emotions, from the 911 calls I took as a Dispatcher, from my abandonment issues that came from never meeting my Dad, from being afraid of commitment. Cheating is personal, its not about the relationship. I know that sounds counterintuitive, but it is a selfish act. I was selfish and I wanted to stop feeling pain. Straight up, I owe apologies right here, and you know who you are.

4. Being the other woman allows you to be worshipped on a level that no other relationship provides. I hate to say this, but straight up men pay more attention to the woman they are trying to sleep with than the woman they are currently sleeping with. I spent my 20s feeding and needing the attention of men, so of course there is no better relationship than the one that required me to avoid my commitment issues, and get a shit ton of attention without having to do shit. Is that healthy? Hell no!! Is that ok? Fuck no! Is it a coping mechanism? Fuck yeah!

5. Cheating allowed me to avoid myself. I had commitment issues, was afraid of love, terrified of vulnerability, and threatened by having two feet in. Having an affair allowed me to avoid facing myself, loving myself, and respecting myself. And I have spent countless years trying to learn these lessons. I now feel with every ounce of my soul, I love with my heart, body and mind. I celebrate love with every cell of my being. And I speak my truth, am authentic with my voice, and when I tell you I love you there is no question that I mean it.

6. Listen to your heart. For a long time I dated tactically. I handled my relationships like they were SWAT operations. I dated the men who were attractive, financially stable, had a great work ethic, were safe, and yet my heart wasn't involved. My head told me to love them and they felt safe. But I am sorry, your head and your heart has to be on the same page. My exes were good guys, but until your heart is involved and your heart is involved and you are head fucking head over heels in love, don't settle. I spent the majority of my life searching for an intellectual, sexual and emotional connection....and I often wondered if it was real or if I was chasing a ghost. It's real!!! Don't settle!

7. Sometimes we have to hit rock bottom to come back up. When I was cheated on and also when I cheated those period of my life turned out to be the greatest times of my life for growth, education and self development. I learned how to respect myself, how to love myself, how to feel - like truly feel, I learned that your heart breaks so that it can get bigger. I also learned that in order for us to overcome our biggest fears, our vulnerabilities, we have to look that shit in the face, and dive afraid anyway. Thank you to my tribe who picked me up when I was on the ground, hating myself, and so incredibly lost. Wish there was an easier way, but for me there wasn't. 

8. It is a myth that once a cheater, always a cheater. I am not proud of my past, but it also made me who I am today. It makes me value love, makes me feel emotions deeper than the average person, makes me honor commitment on a different level, and makes me treasure my person on a different level. I know what it feels like to be betrayed and I also know that when I meet my king I will do everything in my power to make sure they feel safe, loved, protected, and treasured. I no longer take love lightly, so if I tell you I love you, that means I love you with everything I have, and I won't do anything to jeopardize that.

9. I didn't love myself. I cheated because I couldn't look myself in the mirror. Sure, I have always been confident, intelligent, successful in my career, bordering on cocky. But those traits were designed to mirror a little girl who missed meeting or knowing her Daddy, who never felt safe, who was cynical about love, who compartmentalized her emotions out of fear, who ran from commitment and herself, and who couldn't show up for herself, so of course she couldn't show up for someone else. Over time I have learned how to love myself, and well you start to show up differently for other people. I am not currently in a relationship, but I know that when I am I will love and treasure myself as much as I treasure my king.

10. You are perfect just the way you are. Whether you have cheated or been cheated on this experience doesn't define you. Learn from it, reflect on it, love yourself through it, forgive yourself, and believe in yourself. You are perfect and these life experiences shape us, make us beautiful and take us to the next level of this game of life. Get up and rise from those ashes and fucking win!!

I would love to end this blog post by telling you that I found my happily ever after, but not all fairytales end with a glass slipper and a castle. I can't tie this blog post up with a pretty bow, but what I can tell you is that when you are suffering reach for your support system, when its difficult pray/meditate, and if you need me I will always be here to hold your hand without judgment. I refuse to let my past define me, and so I choose to ask for forgiveness for those I hurt, take a moment of gratitude for those who hurt me, and surrender.

I can also tell you that I love myself a little more everyday. I celebrate who I am and I am now able to look myself in the mirror. I know that in my next relationship I will have both of my feet in, I will not run from commitment, I will love them with my head and my heart, I will speak my truth, and I will be vulnerable even when it's uncomfortable.