Finding Freedom, Day 1: 45 Things to Know on My 45th Birthday

I wish I had written this list in advance, allowing it to compile itself over the 45 days leading up to my birthday. But because I am the best at procrastinating, I decided to wait. I planned to wait until the end of the day ON my birthday to write it. However, last night was a disaster so I came home and went straight to bed. I woke up this morning at my usual time (some time between 5 and 6AM), with a bloody nose, ate some leftover home made mac and cheese, prayed, let the dog out, and thought long and hard about my life. I wish I had written this list in advance. Because now... I am feeling a little more jaded than hopeful.

Good things happened yesterday. My beautiful, smart Goddaughter, who is excelling in her career and well on her way to an amazing story-filled life, called the shop where my car was being fixed and made a payment on the work. What an amazing blessing when you are facing a $422 bill on your birthday. My sister and my three besties (Tiffany, Diane & Craig) were true to their roles in my life and offered beautiful birthday wishes and support. Facebook rocked. If I had to pick only one reason to love Facebook, it would be my birthday when almost 200 people send a note my way every year.

No matter how old you are, you create expectations for your birthday. With the exception of my 40th, my expectations have been relatively the same. I don't want a big deal. Just dinner with friends. Nothing wild and crazy. And that's how it has been. Sometimes routine is what is best. I understand why some people just stay in their corner of the world and refuse to venture out. Last night was a disaster. I planned a month ago to go to a trivia night with coworkers. Life is hectic for the ones I am closest to so I thought I would do something safe. The first people I saw were my ex friends. When I overcame the moment of panic that accompanied that, a domino of bizarre, eighth-grade-type events began to unfold and I ended up leaving. It was likely the worst birthday I have had since I turned 30. (Thirty was the last time I tried to live outside of my typical birthday box.)

So, I cried a little. I told a few people to kindly fuck off. And I immediately regretted nearly every decision I have made in the last month. That is going to color this list a bit and for that, I apologize. But, here it goes:

1. I am all an all-in person. I don't half ass my relationships no matter what kind of relationships they are. I give everything I've got.
2. While it appears as if I trust too easily, I am really just giving people the opportunity to screw up so I can cut them off. I don't truly trust many.
3. It makes me uncomfortable when others advocate for me. While I am not the first person to stand up for myself, I don't trust what anyone else might say. I would rather speak for myself. (If you are going to quote me, you should quote me exactly.)
4. I am not easy to love. Loving me requires work, jumping through a few hoops even. I am completely aware of this and sometimes I feel bad about it but, as cliche as it sounds, I am expecting you to leave. So, if you are planning to stay, I need to you to show me.
5. I could eat mac and cheese or Mexican food three times a day. There is not a moment in life when cheesy noodles or tacos doesn't sound like a good idea.
6. The same goes for cupcakes. I will eat them for breakfast, take one for the road and chow down on a third an hour later. 
7. That said, I don't like being fat. I am uncomfortable sometimes. I know my heart can't take it and I am pretty sure I am almost diabetic, if not already. There is some work to be done.
8. I don't have time for people who try to make me feel stupid. Support is not degrading another person for their mistakes. It's not "I told you so."
9. When I feel stupid because of the "brave" efforts of someone else, I will make someone's life miserable or hurt someone with my words.
10. I also don't have time for selfishness. I don't expect everyone to charge full boar into a relationship but if the last thing you do is think of others, you should happily keep walking in a direction that is far away from me.
11. I like dogs more than people.
12. Weather changes are difficult for me. They affect my body in the worst way but they also affect my mood.
13. I believe in the power of a full moon. (Which explains why last night was so completely fucked up.)
14. I curse. A lot. And I am not sorry.
15. My recurring dreams are about losing my teeth, having contacts that are so oddly shaped I can't fit them into my eyes, and that I am being stalked by lions.
16. I used to see a psychic a few times a year. I know some people thinks that's demonic but you are entitled to your opinion. You are also free to pray for my deliverance.
17. I walk my dog twice a day. Three times on the weekends.
18. I have dog mom guilt. I cannot leave her for too long and if I go a day without walking her, I feel like a jerk.
19. I don't believe everyone should have a dog. Leaving a dog alone for twelve hours a day is the equivalent of chaining him to a tree. 
20. I have strong opinions that go beyond pet ownership. This is not a surprise to most people.
21. For years, I have wanted nothing more than to have a baby. Others laugh at me or tell me how dumb that is all the time. Most of those people have never been pregnant.
22. I hate that I am turning 45. It is the first birthday that I have absolutely despised. 
23. I am afraid I am going to die soon. My grandparents on my birth mom's side died in their 50s from heart attacks.
24. Some days, I wish I had never looked up my adoption records. I am so grateful to have met most of my family members but it was a decision that altered the course of my life dramatically and that destroyed some of my family relationships too.
25. I wish that people would look as deeply inside me as I do them.
26. If I could do three things today, I would get a massage, get a pedicure and make out with Dwayne Johnson. (The real Dwayne Johnson)
27. I love to cook and every week, I try a new recipe. 
28. I used to love to bake. I don't know what made me stop. I might have to examine that a little bit. 
29. I am in more debt now than I have ever been. My career transition and the subsequent cut in pay might be what causes that heart attack I am worried about...
30. I would like to move out of the state.
31. I would love to teach on a reservation. 
32. There are days when I think it might be best for me to just stop speaking. Permanently.
33. I have never been suicidal but I think about running away all of the time.
34. I love fresh flowers. When I had money, I bought them every week at the Farmer's Market. I used to buy them for my project management teams too. 
35. If I tell you that I love you, I mean it. It is not always a phrase of intimacy for me. In fact, that's probably when I say it the least. 
36. I feel every emotion deeply and profoundly. 
37. I sometimes feel weighed down by what others are going through and it is paralyzing for me.
38. I often think that this life is not the one I was meant to live. Like I was switched at birth or got caught up in a parallel universe.
39. Diet Dr. Pepper is probably slowly killing me but I can't stop drinking it.
40. I miss traveling.
41. I also miss having my own space.
42. While I willingly care for others, feeling like I am the only one who has to take care of everyone else makes me angry. And I actually find myself hating people who don't take care of their families because it seems wrong and it seems unfair.
43. I am already feeling done with 2016. 
44. I plan to spend this year getting my books published and working on a few things that will be for my benefit alone.
45. Forty-five completely sucks so far. I do not recommend it.

Finding Freedom, Day 3: Learning to Love Your Story

Long before I was conceived my story began. While I don't know all of the pieces from that frame of time, I do know that a pretty red-haired teenage girl from a big, Catholic family in north St. Louis county met a tall, good-looking guy from the south side and things happened. And from that brief union, I was created.

The chaotic wildness surrounding that union is part of my story too. One thing the 70's was not was boring. People were protesting the Vietnam War and the shooting at Kent State occurred. The Beatles broke up. Bobby Orr was a hockey hero. Gay rights soared to the forefront of the news when activists organized in every state across the country. Disney World opened, punk music hit the scene, and I was born.

When I was three days old, I was turned over to a foster family who cared for me until my adoption began six weeks later. My mom and dad took me home, introduced me to the rest of the family and  my life really began. My hardworking father owned a grocery store where he was a butcher while my mom stayed home, tending to the household, serving dinner promptly at 5PM every night. At the age of four, I was blessed with a little sister. Her birthday was the day after mine. I didn't care. I had my own room but I wanted to sleep with the baby so I did.

I went to private Catholic schools. By second grade my indoctrination into the sporting world began with basketball, followed by volleyball and then, finally, softball. I played all three sports through my sophomore year in high school. Then I carried my love for volleyball into college. I also played basketball in college but I joined mostly for the camaraderie of the team and because I thought the coach was hot.

I didn't kiss a boy until I was 17 and I wanted to die when I finally did. It was awful and I was certain he was trying to suffocate me. I liked boys. I liked looking at them. They were just so weird. And they scared me. I wasn't really sure how all of that worked. Needless to say, I held onto my virginity until I was well into college.

In my early college days, I discovered a bit more about my birth parents' backgrounds through a letter left at the adoption agency by my birth mom, Denice. She was so incredibly attentive. For ten years after my adoption, she returned to the agency to update my medical records. Most adopted kids don't have that. I learned that I was the only child to whom she ever gave birth. She was not in a relationship with my birth father. He was married to someone else and already had two other children. I was one of a kind, apparently.

Later on, in my 30s, I met her: my birth mom. She wanted more from me than I could offer. So our contact was short-lived. But during that time, she gave me my birth father's name and I began the quest to find him. Ten years later, I met my oldest sister, followed my a myriad of family members.

There are many things about my story that are influenced by my birth and many others influenced by my upbringing. Some are difficult for me to talk about but for the most part, I have always loved my story. I love the ridiculousness of it the most because it makes sense that someone like me, just being who I am today, and who was born in the 70s doesn't have a boring history. My history is rich and bizarre and riddled with bad choices and tough decisions and sheer lunacy.

But it is my story and I have learned to love the really awful stuff almost as much as I love the parts that are easy to love. A big part of finding freedom is learning to love your story. I love mine and because of that, I am free.