Don't dare him to be different, he already is. Dare him to be himself.

I really love this quote.

I need to find the strength to embrace my true self. Time and time again I mirror those around me, and disguise myself as something I think people want me to be. I become a diluted version of the bleakest parts of me; void of any individuality, personality or substance.

The mask I choose to wear is dull compared to the raw joy that lies beneath it. But, I wear it for fear that my smile will intimidate those around me; and my sparkle blind them. I hide in hopes of becoming a more palatable and acceptable version of 'myself', I have lost all the light and colour from my world. I am camouflaged, invisible.

I want to find myself, my true self. I want to turn the light back on and be unapologetically me.

Oh, this gets my heart tonight. "In the times I had been struggling, I still held space for those who needed me." --- absolutely this. I am trying so hard to learn to be more careful with who I allow close. Because I'm a GIVER, my dudes. I'll drain myself dry for those I love. There will never, ever, EVER be a time that I'm too busy or have too much on my plate and let that = neglecting my people. I will *never* be too busy, if I love you. I'll find a way, whether it's my time, my energy, my hugs, or just my ear to listen. My relationships are intentional//not transactional. I don't care about what I can get out of you. I don't care if you're asking too much. If I choose you//I *got* you. I remind my child of this all the time -- it doesn't matter how much she needs from me. It might be a lot, but it will never be too much. That's how love works, man. 🖤 But, that's WHY I'm trying to learn to be better at being intentional with who I allow in my zone. I know I'm a fiercely loyal little momma bear type: family, friends, relationships. Once you're in, I got you. So, I have to be careful who I let in, in the first place. I seem to struggle with that. Trying to remember that: all people can be good people. But that doesn't mean they're safe people. Red flags can feel like butterflies when all you've ever known is chaos, energy vampires can be stealthy until it's too late, and - maybe some people just change their minds, and stop being who you thought. It's ok to cut those ties too. Because there's nothing more lonely than being alone with someone else. No one else out here is gonna protect me, like me. Good thing I heckin' love me. ❤️ #samiravivette #poetryofig #wordsaremagic #wordsarepowerful #writerslife #lovelikethemoon #lovelylove #loveagain #loveanyway #lovealways #lonelynights #lonelyheart #datingafter40 #datingishard #singlemomproblems #singlemomlife #findingmyself #findinglove #loveyourselffirst https://www.instagram.com/p/CpJ6XKkOFIW/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Hiatus

I know I haven’t been as frequent as what I used to be. I’m pretty sure I wrote more in 2021 than I did in 2022, and even less in 2023. So, here’s the deal. I’ve been busy planning, researching, and booking my dream life goal which is travelling. It is something I’ve wanted to do since I was 21, and finally at 31 I have earned enough in my savings to take a full year off work to travel the…

View On WordPress

its depression time again, i can feel it...

lurking in the shadows,

with every breath i take,

fights for me to face him

but all i feel is hate.

used to think its over,

but it really isnt, ever.

he’s the one and only

that i will love forever.

was thinking ‘i will end it’,

once and twice a week:

when he pushed me away,

it made me lose all faith.

not in him, but me,

to be dependent on someone,

that barely touched my soul,

all he did was show me,

love does not mean it all,

cuz what is it that i lack,

that all others adore?

made me face the mirror

and talk to my shadow…

after all that time alone

i think i get it now:

it was not him i missed 

but that piece of mine:

the one i lost, when he walked away,

holding onto that lonely name,

the body and soul i gave away,

both of which will never be the same.

so foolish of me to trust another,

with a piece of my heart,

the most fragile of all,

but what is it if not trust,

to blindly offer your all,

in hopes of finding something,

that is always worth the fall.

The Hour I Miss Myself

(Esther Nicholette Sullivan) The uncomfortable silence stretched thick with the weight of unspoken truths and the shadow of a love that had grown threadbare. I could feel James's gaze drilling into me, desperate for some kind of understanding or perhaps a sign of the woman he thought he married.

My chest tightened, each breath a struggle as if the air in the room had turned viscous and heavy. The faint hum of the refrigerator in the background became oddly amplified, a mundane soundtrack to our marital impasse.

"Nic..." His voice trailed off, unsure, perhaps even afraid of what more I might say. He moved as if to reach out but then seemed to think better of it, letting his hand fall to his side.

I closed my eyes briefly, recalling the countless times Major S's hands had corrected my stance, his touch firm yet gentle. How different it felt from the touch I had at home. His belief in me was unwavering, unlike the doubt that clouded James's eyes.

Opening my eyes, I forced myself to meet James's stare. "I need that hour," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "It's not just about fitness; it's not vanity. It's sanity, James. It's the one thing that's purely mine."

He blinked, taken aback by the raw honesty in my words. Something shifted behind his eyes—a flicker of recognition, perhaps? I didn't know if he could fully grasp the gravity of my need, but the vulnerability I felt at that moment was all too real.

"Can't you see?" My voice quivered now, the anger dissolving into a plea. "When I'm there, I'm more than just 'Mom' or 'wife' or whatever role I'm supposed to play here. I'm Nic—just Nic. And damn it, I miss her."

It was as if admitting it aloud had permitted the feeling to flood through me, leaving no room for the armor I'd built up over the years. This was me, not the superheroine facade, but the flesh and blood woman who craved acknowledgment, who hungered to be seen for her own merits and not just her roles in others' lives.

A long breath escaped me, a white flag in the silence. I waited for him to say something, anything, that might bridge the chasm between us. But all I heard was the quiet ticking of the kitchen clock, marking the seconds of our standoff, the heartbeat of a marriage hanging in the balance.

My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob, the cold metal offering no comfort. My heart thundered, fury's hot pulse racing through my veins. With a force that startled even me, I yanked the door open and strode across the threshold.

"Nic—" James's voice cracked, a pathetic attempt to salvage the conversation.

I didn't turn back. The resolve in my every step was a shield against his half-hearted appeal. He coughed again, a guttural sound muffled by distance and our crumbling connection. That fleeting glimpse of regret on his face flickered in my mind. Still, it was quickly snuffed out by the familiar cloak of his indifference.

What was he regretting anyway? Our shared silence? His neglect? Or the fact that he had finally been confronted with the truth?

The bedroom loomed before me, a sanctuary turned prison. My hand slammed the door shut with finality, the bang reverberating off the walls, mirroring the chaos inside me. The room felt smaller somehow, the shadows clinging to the corners like specters of all the unspoken words between us.

I stumbled to the bed, legs suddenly weak. The mattress gave way beneath me, the springs creaking a lament in time with my ragged breaths. My eyes burned, hot tears spilling over, tracing paths down my cheeks. They were tears of anger, of resentment - my last bastion against the sorrow threatening to consume me.

Flashbacks flickered behind my closed eyelids, a rapid montage of laughter, passion, and promises - all reduced to this desolate moment. How had we gone from whispered dreams in the dark to echoes of doubt and despair?

"James," I uttered into the void, tasting the bitterness of his name. Was I mourning the man I married or grieving the love that had once filled these walls?

The fabric of the pillowcase was rough against my skin as I buried my face in the cushion, muffling the sobs that wracked my body. It wasn't supposed to be like this. We weren't supposed to be like this.

In the gym, I was whole; amidst the clanking weights and encouraging shouts, I found pieces of myself I thought were lost. Major S's steady gaze and the warmth of his encouragement were like rays of sunlight piercing the gloom of my life. And now, here in the darkness, I yearned for that light.

"Fight for it, Nic," Major S's voice echoed in my memory, a mantra that had pushed me beyond limits at the gym. But could I muster the strength to fight for myself, for my own happiness, outside those walls?

With each shuddering breath, I made a silent vow. The anger and the resentment would not define me. I would find my way back to the woman who laughed freely and who lived fiercely. For my sons. For me.

And maybe I'd find a new path along the way—one where the roles I played didn't smother the person I was meant to be.

I recently re-started my journey to develop my relationship with God. In doing so, I purchased the viral two part Bible Study Workbook. The first book I'm reading is Genesis. And one of the first lessons explains that God allowed Adam to name all the living creatures of the Earth because God allowed man to have dominion over all the things on Earth. Names indicate who and/or what these things become.

The author urged us to then look up the meaning of our names. So, I did. Below are my findings and thoughts.

Kareena

Origin: Greek, Scandanavian, Russian, Norwegian, Hindu

Meanings (adjectives): pure i.e., spotless, virtuous, Godly, unblemished, righteous, innocent.

Hindu prefix, "Kar" means (noun): flower.

You've got to be kidding me. Right?!

It all makes so much sense now. By divine creation of God, I am to be fruitful. Flowers pollinate and multiply; outside of beauty, the essence of their existence is to give birth to more flowers.

I lead my life through love and giving my heart to everyone. But it was always something I envied and couldn't understand why. Why do I keep giving love to others more than they give me? It never feels fully reciprocated in return, but I do it regardless.

Now I know why. God divinely created me to be a lover, to be pure of heart, to be virtuous, righteous, innocent and loving. I am to wear my heart on my sleeve because it makes me who God created me to be. And I realize now that deep in my soul I am meant to share this love, and create in love.

Just about a month ago I had a dream I was in a fluffy white bed, laying on my right side with my right arm propping up my head so I could watch TV. I don't remember what was on the TV but the room was very bright. And then I heard a tiny, innocent giggle. When I looked down near my right arm, laying in the curve of my breast and stomach was a bright-eyed, curly haired baby boy. His hair was jet black. And he wore a emerald green onesie that had polka dots or stripes or some pattern all over it. They pattern was white. I smiled because he was kicking his little feet to get my attention. So I laughed, and he giggled. Then I heard a voice, and man came walking into the room and saying "I'm coming to take my son so mama can get some rest." I laughed and scooped the precious baby boy up in my arms and handed him over to the man. The baby cooed, the man smiled at him; then he leaned down, kissed me and turned to walk out of the room. The scent of Paco Rabanne lingered in the air. He looked rugged, wearing a white t-shirt, and his hair was jet black and curly. He was bare feet. He reminded me of WC.

If you believe God the way I do, you believe that nothing exist without purpose. You also believe that names tell us who we are and/or who we are to become.

Now that I know the meaning and origin of my name, from today moving forward, I will embrace who I'm meant to be.

Kareena is righteous. Spotless. Virtuous. Love. My love is not a curse, it's a gift.

P.S., next week we will resume the regularly scheduled programming.

For Vietnamese and Chinese versions, please check out: https://ngocnga.net/find-a-feeling/?utm_source=tumblr&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=quote 🎶💔🌪️ Find a feeling that feels okay Find another to blow it away Who are you and who am I Please don't ask me I'll break down and cry. // Xúnzhǎo yīgè gǎnjué hái suàn kěyǐ Zài zhǎo yīgè lái jiāng qí chuī sàn Nǐ shì shéi, wǒ shì shéi Qǐng bùyào wèn wǒ, wǒ huì bēngkuì ér kūqì.

There's a new wind blowing.

It's oddly familiar.

As if it's always been there.

It's reaffirming everything I couldn't bear to see.

Yet helping me to really love me.

Maybe I'm not as broken as I once thought.

Everything this life has thrown at me has just been a lot.

I've loved hard. And I've lost even harder.

Yet I feel hope finding me again.

I'm reminded that happily ever after isn't too much to ask for.

One person who loves you right is more than enough.

As you match me, there's not one thing that can stop us.

My kids deserve a love that chooses them daily.

I've fallen short so much lately.

But I am really beginning to adore myself once again.

I love in such a beautiful way, I cherish that about myself.

I may not be the one they end up with, but I'm always the one they never forget.

Even in my brokenness, I always put others first.

And for once in my life, I know I am worth it.

Just a little reminder for myself, but if you need it too, I'll share.

Lonely Alone Me | Beau Lucas

Join on a heartfelt journey of self-discovery as they explore the depths of loneliness and solitude in "Lonely Alone Me." In this introspective video, They share their experiences, insights, and strategies for embracing solitude and finding inner peace. Whether you're navigating solitude by choice or circumstance, this video offers guidance and support for anyone on their own path of self-discovery.

Indoor Plants: The Unspoken Trials of Adulthood 🌱🙈

Morning: Whispers of sweet encouragement to Phil. Midday: Full-blown panic, wondering if I'm giving him a hydrating spa day or drowning him. Evening: Late-night Google searches: "Do plants appreciate dad jokes?"

Hey there, my green-thumbed (and not-so-green-thumbed) readers! Thought adulting was just about paying bills? Meet Phil, my plant, teaching me it’s also about… not killing green things. When we envision adulthood, it’s often filled with visions of office wars, deciphering taxes, and questioning why avocados are SO expensive. But no one, I repeat, no one warned me about the emotional whirlwind…

View On WordPress

I’m gonna hide my flowers from you and water them myself. When they start to bloom it’ll be because of me and not because of you.

“in case of loss, return to yourself…” do you have a sketchbook or art journal practice? ☘️ just arrived to Ireland for a 1-month artist residency, and didn’t realize that the work had begun before I left NYC. 📝 a new multi-media collage practice opened up the creative floodgates & I finally released a block I didn’t know was there. The idea that a sketchbook had to be perfect. 📖 Can’t wait to show you what I’ll be making while here in Galway at @watershedstudios … 👀 📔 @moleskine journal 📓 #artresidency #galwayireland #artwork #artist #artjournal #artjournaling #artjournalpage #junkjournal #junkjournaling #sketchbook #perfectionism #makemistakes #hiddengems #findingmyself #creatrixmethod #multimedia #collageart #growthmindset #artistsupport #artistsoninstagram (at Galway, Ireland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoJsm60ji3q/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Inspo for my next painting. Is my sketchbook the answer to all my troubles. How to maintain its freshness and naïve when it goes through the oil process. To be or not to be that is the question. There’s only one way to know it. . . . #findingyourself #findingmyself #findinglove (at París, Arco del Triunfo) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnkSE0xun62/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Sanctuary in Sweat

(Esther Nicholette Sullivan) The door creaked on its hinges, a final note in the discordant symphony of my departure. As I slid behind the wheel of my Jeep, the seat’s leather clung to me like a second skin, an embrace from a familiar friend. With a flick of my wrist, I turned the key, igniting not just the engine but a spark of something within me – liberation, maybe, or defiance.

As the music erupted from the speakers, each beat pulsated through me, a rhythmic rebellion against the silence that had settled between James and me. The road stretched before me; headlights cut through the darkness, a beacon guiding me toward a sanctuary where I could breathe again.

I glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of the life I was momentarily leaving behind. The glow of the living room window faded into the night, swallowed by the distance as I drove away. My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to moments long past.

“Look at you, Nic! You’re glowing!” James’s voice echoed in the memory. It was a time when my efforts were celebrated, when we danced in the kitchen, our laughter spilling into the night. Back then, every success, every stride forward, was a shared victory.

But now? Now, Alpha Athletics was my battleground, the place where I reclaimed myself piece by piece. And he... he resented it, resented me for finding strength in something that didn’t include him.

A rogue tear traced a path down my cheek, an escape from the dam I’d built to contain them. At what cost? The question lingered, an unwelcome guest amidst the clamor of doubts. I wiped it away, refusing its claim to my moment of peace.

“Enough,” I whispered to myself to the empty passenger seat, to the night. The word was a vow, a line drawn in the sand. Enough doubting, enough guilt, enough being a ghost in my own life.

The music swelled, a defiant anthem against the storm inside. I was strong and capable, and for this fleeting journey, I was unapologetically me. It was a feeling I would chase, time and again, as long as it took to find the answer to that haunting question.

The bass thumped against the Jeep’s doors, a pulsing heartbeat that matched my own. I drove like I was shedding a skin, each mile putting distance between me and the stifling air of home. Streetlights streaked by in a blur as I gripped the steering wheel, each passing moment taking me closer to the sanctuary.

Pulling into the Alpha’s parking lot, I killed the engine and let the silence wash over me. It was a world apart from the chaos of home. In this place, the soundtrack was always an electronic symphony of beeps and booms from James’s endless gaming sessions. Here, it was different. Here, I could breathe.

“We burning the midnight oil again, Nic?” Mary called out, leaning against her cherry-red sports car, a playful smirk on her lips.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I replied, stepping out of my Jeep. My sneakers hit the asphalt with purpose, the familiar ache in my muscles already anticipating the workout.

“Ready to spill some sweat and tears?” Delilah jested, spreading her arms wide towards the grueling workout before us. Our laughter echoed around us, deep and authentic— a stark contrast from the strained titters that usually echoed within my living room.

We pushed through Alpha’s doors, and the scent of effort and resilience flooded my senses. The clank of weights and the rhythmic whirring of treadmills were music to my ears—the antithesis of my life’s daily grind.

“I’m still sore from Friday,” Delilah giggled, tying her hair back with a swift, practiced motion.

“Always,” I said, my voice steady, though my heart raced with more than just the thrill of exercise. “Let’s get to it, ladies,” I announced, shaking off the ghosts of the past. The gym was my haven, my hour of power where I was no one’s wife or mother—just Nic, fierce and free.

As we took our places, surrounded by the hum of machinery and the unspoken camaraderie of our little tribe, I let myself sink into the moment. This was my battleground, my escape. For this fleeting hour, I belonged to no one but myself. And nothing—not even the specter of a disintegrating marriage—could take that away from me.

✨I remember beating myself up and feeling shame about certain life choices I’ve made in the past. Looking back at how far I’ve come and the lessons I’ve gained, I would not change those decisions because I’ve attained something priceless ✨ Follow| SpirituallyVerified #lifelessons #growth #growthmindset #peaceofmind #healingjourney #findingmyself #selflove #perspective #createyourreality https://www.instagram.com/p/CnFFeTXuyS5/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=