100 Blogs

Today I am proud to share my 100th blog with you! Man! Can I can write a lot of crap!

To mark the occassion, I decided to share a few random things as I close out this chapter of my life. Some lessons learned, reasons I write, favorite blogs, thank you's, and other odds and ends. I really hope that you have enjoyed what I have shared or at least that you have found something in all of this that resonates with you!

10 things I’ve learned in 100 Posts:

1. You can heal and still be real.

2. People love honesty, even the messy kind.

3. Typos are inevitable. So are relapses. Grace matters.

4. The truth hurts. So does Spanx.

5. You’re allowed to grow out loud.

6. Writing is therapy, but cheaper.

7. Not everyone will get it. That’s okay.

8. Your ex might read it. That’s also okay.

9. Sometimes the comments are more healing than the blog.

10. Humor is a survival skill.

10 reasons I write:

1. I write about my past to understand my present.

2. I write about what I want to know in order to continue to learn and develop.

3. I write to discover my own beliefs.

4. I write to share my experiences.

5. I write to express my truth.

6. I write my legacy for my girls when I'm long gone.

7. I write because I was silent for too long.

8. I write in order to better understand my inner dialogue.

9. I write because I always feel proud after.

10. I write so I can get closer to the things I've never said which helps me understand what I'm still looking for.

10 favorite Posts:

1. Kintsugi

2. Doppelgänger

3. Anxiety Empire

4. Parenthood

5. Healing With Purpose

6. Pet Peeves

7. Same House, Different Stories

8. Villain vs Victim

9. Frankenstein of My Former Selves

10. She Knew

10 midlife recovery truths I kinda wish weren’t:

1. You outgrow people faster than clothes.

2. Healing can be lonely.

3. No one claps when you break a cycle. They get uncomfortable.

4. People liked the version of you who didn’t speak up.

5. Forgiveness doesn’t always mean reconciliation.

6. Grief shows up in weird disguises, like rage and sarcasm.

7. Some people only liked you broken.

8. You can’t save anyone by bleeding for them.

9. Peace feels boring until you’re used to it.

10. Not everyone wants to get better.

10 things that nearly ended me (that were actually perimenopause):

1. Mood swings that rival a telenovela - Not bipolar. Just hormonally possessed between 7am and 7pm daily.

2. Crying because the toast is burnt - It’s not depression. Your estrogen dipped and now you’re grieving carbs.

3. Anxiety spikes out of nowhere - You’re not unraveling. Your progesterone is just ghosting you again.

4. Insomnia despite being exhausted - Your body is tired. Your hormones are hosting an all-night rave.

5. Sudden rage toward slow walkers and loud chewers - It’s not unresolved trauma. It’s hot flash-induced murder vibes.

6. Feeling emotionally flat or numb - Not dissociation. Just your hormonal Wi-Fi going in and out.

7. Memory lapses and foggy thinking - Not early-onset dementia. Just perimenopause gaslighting your brain.

8. Low motivation and zero interest in anything - It’s not burnout. It’s your body prioritizing survival over ambition.

9. Panic attacks over absolutely nothing - Welcome to the cortisol rollercoaster, no seatbelt required.

10. Wanting to quit everything and just end it all - Not a midlife crisis. Just a very rational response to the 15 symptoms hitting all at once, that no one talks about.

10 mental health Lessons I didn’t want to learn:

1. You don’t get closure, you give it to yourself.

2. Triggers aren’t warnings, they’re invitations.

3. You can love someone and still need to walk away.

4. Rest is not laziness. It’s medicine.

5. Sometimes the growth hurts worse than the wound.

6. Saying no isn’t rude, it’s recovery.

7. Not everyone deserves access to your truth.

8. Boundaries will disappoint people. That’s the point.

9. Your coping mechanism was a genius survival tool, until it wasn’t.

10. Healing is boring. And miraculous.

10 favorite Quotes:

1. What you are is what you have been. What you'll be is what you do now. - Buddha

2. Your thoughts become your reality. Choose them wisely. - Unknown

3. It's not what you say, it's how you say it. - Albert Mehrabian

4. Don't judge yesterday's decisions with today's wisdom. - Steven Furtick

5. To truly practice forgiveness, we must first forgive ourselves for not being perfect. - Thich Nhat Hanh

6. No. Is a complete sentence. - Anne Lamott

7. All coping mechanisms are proof of your resilience. - Unknown

8. Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone's soul heal. - Rumi

9. In a dark place we find ourselves, and a little more knowledge lights our way. - Yoda

10. Purpose spurs passion which fans the sparks that light the fires that fuel change. - Sir Richard Branson

10 favorite Images:

10 People who helped me get it together:

1. The sister who didn’t flinch when I said the quiet part out loud. And somehow still believed I could heal.

2. The daughter who reminded me I was the cycle breaker. (Even if she still doesn’t know what DBT stands for.)

3. The therapist who handed me the mirror gently - and didn’t let me look away. That one session cracked everything open. In a good way. Eventually.

4. The father who embraced recovery and began a healing journey of his own.

5. The daughter who texted, “I love you. So proud of you!” When I had nearly given up.

6. The friend who never judged the chaos - just checked in. Didn’t ask questions. Just made space.

7. The stranger who commented, “Me too.” Those two words saved me, more than once.

8. The healer who told me I was allowed to be sad. And helped me stop apologizing for it.

9. The blogger I stumbled on at 2 a.m. who said exactly what I couldn’t. She didn’t know it, but she made me feel less alone.

10. The version of me who kept writing through the breakdowns. She didn’t know she was helping future me. But she did.

To all of you who have helped me hold on, I don’t know if I would’ve made it to 100 blog posts without you. Without your patience, your grace, your honesty, or your quiet presence.

To the friends who let me fall apart in texts, on calls, in bars - and didn’t try to sweep it up or turn it into a teaching moment: thank you for loving the unedited versions of me.

To the therapists and counselors who handed me emotional tweezers and showed me how to take out my own splinters: thank you for not rushing the process, even when I was tired of myself.

To the family members who stayed, even when it was uncomfortable, even when I started changing in ways that shifted the whole dynamic: thank you for growing too, in your own way.

To the bloggers, the writers, the brave strangers who shared their stories when I was drowning in mine: thank you for lighting the way with your words. You helped me believe mine could matter too.

And to the past versions of me - the messy, stubborn, hurting, hopeful ones - thank you for not giving up. You wrote even when it felt like screaming into the void. You kept going. And now we’re here.

This isn’t the end of anything. It’s just a humbling, eye-opening, deeply personal milestone. Thank you for reading. Thank you for witnessing. And if you’re still in it, still healing, still holding on, I see you. Keep going. We’re not done yet.

While this is the last post of this blog, I invite you to check out the next chapter of my journey, a new blog called Mentally Stable-ish™. It tells the hard truths and hilarity of hot flashes and hormones with humor and honesty. A sweaty and sarcastic, survival guide to menopause, motherhood and midlife mayhem.