Love Yours…

Well, I need to work on creating consistency when it comes to my blogs. Mainly this blog because I’m forever looking through it, looking at other people’s blogs, commenting on other people’s blogs, and not once batting an eyelash at my own. It’s almost as if I put more effort into everything else except for my own works. Not good. Not good at all. I have to hold myself to that higher standard. I’ve been bullshitting basically and that stops now. I can’t allow myself to do that and still be taken seriously by anyone who isn’t me.

While this is all going on, I am also in the process of moving, which I despise!!! I hate moving with a passion because it just reminds me of when I was growing up with a single mother, and how we were always moving. We never had a real space of our own for a long time when we first moved to San Diego from Racine, WI. It wasn’t incredibly fun and we almost considered it normal to always be moving, but it really wasn’t. Always making friends just to lose them because we had to pick up and leave. It wasn’t the best time, but we made it through. It’s amazing what you remember about your childhood. We won’t go into deep details, just know that it felt like crap always leaving people behind. Even though we only moved inside of San Diego, this city is fairly big. You might run into that person again but probably not for a long time; I’ve yet to see anyone I’ve met as a child from those first years since I’ve been an adult. Although our lives weren’t always the best, we did have some really great moments-memories we won’t ever forget and some we will indeed cherish. I can proudly say that I’ve felt sorry for myself growing up when we were homeless. I cried some nights as a child because of our circumstances. I know my sisters and brother felt the same but we didn’t express those feelings until we became adults. We all hated it and just felt like we had shit beginnings in life (and we liked blaming our mother for a lot of things), but we also had bright sides to it. I feel like the struggles made us who we are today. Especially myself. I often do think back to the days when we didn’t really have anything but one another, but we were happy together. We had fun together. Once we got into the real world, that’s when issues arose. My little family got lost along the way but we still love each other, we just aren’t as close as we use to be growing up. We recognize this and will probably work on it, just not right now since we are all but separated by states.

What I aim to say is that my life isn’t all roses and whatnot, but I have learned to love what’s truly mine. My life, my child, my life experiences, my adversities, EVERYTHING. I have always been a staunch believer in the harder your life, the stronger you will be at the end of the journey, and when you’re ready, you will be a force to be reckoned with. I also believe that not everybody comes out of their struggles stronger sometimes. There are some people who just can’t deal with everything that’s thrown at them, and we all handle our plights differently. But if you’re one of those who do make it through, you’re one of the lucky ones. You have to love the person you are at the end of the tunnel. You have to love the struggle because it made you who you are. You got to love the life you live because you only get one and you have to make it worth living. You have to love your experiences. You have to love you.