A year ago today I sat down and wrote my very first blog post.  I called my blog Rebel Thriver for a very specific reason.  It was a year ago that I had decided that I was tired of living within the confines of the life I was regulated to as a result of domestic violence. I was tired of the endless nightmares, constant triggers, and memory loss that PTSD has bestowed upon me.  I needed a way out and I decided that writing would give me the open window that I so desperately needed.  The problem was that I was barely able to write a paragraph.  It took so much deliberate thought to write a few cohesive sentences that I didn’t know how I would do it, but I was determined.  Writing had saved me as an adolescent and I knew it could again.

It has been an amazing year of growth for me personally and I am grateful that I had the courage to sit down and start typing. I signed up for a creative writing class at the local college, knowing that my pride would make me push for an A; I was right about that.  I started that class, and  this blog all around the same time.  I never in a million years could have imagined how the creation of Rebel Thriver would impact my life.

Where did the name Rebel Thriver come from?  Exactly a year ago I was sitting on my bed with my boyfriend expressing my frustration at feeling so limited by my life’s circumstances.  As he always does he challenged me to find a way to change it.  I was taking the writing class to improve myself and my skills; in doing so I cracked the damn that held back my feelings.  I half jokingly said to him, “I should start a blog.  I would call it Rebel Survivor.  Rebel, because a blog is not the safest thing for me to set out to do and survivor because…                       Survivor doesn’t fit me anymore…I am ready to THRIVE.  Rebel Thriver it is.”

 I wrote my first blog post on February 18, 2012 and it was titled “Sometimes you have to be your own Hero”.  After that I quickly followed up with “Cliff Diving” which pretty much expressed the utter fear I had about writing a public blog.  That was the true beginning though…it was there that I declared VICTORY!  I claimed my freedom with all its limitations and I yelled, “I am FREE.”

Liberated pretty much describes how I felt a year ago.  I truly hadn’t felt that free in so many years.  I had gone from living as a prisoner in my marriage right into the shadows in order to keep my children and me alive.  I wish I could say that I was being over dramatic here, but it’s the truth.  The day I met my ex-husband the earth shook…he was everything I ever dreamed of.  That veneer quickly crumbled, but it was already too late…I was stuck. I was a victim of domestic violence and trapped in a vicious cycle. Rebel Thriver was a new beginning for me.  It allowed me to cast off the chains that were holding me down and start living in a new way. I quickly started a Facebook page to go along with my blog…something I swore I would NEVER do.  I thought Facebook was cheesy and a waste of time.  Little did I know that I would find myself and my calling through the many incredible people I met there.  I am so beyond grateful for these friendships.

Life is about learning, loving, growing, and letting go. This past year I have focused on helping others.  I wanted to use what I have been through and what it has taught me in order to help others along the way.  It had been so unbearably lonely and isolating for me.  I found quickly that in helping others I was healing.  I have found my path, and I have gained a new sense of clarity.  Now, believe me when I say that it wasn’t an easy year…they call them growing pains for a reason. They suck, and at times I thought I couldn’t push through them. Then I found one of my favorite mantra’s: There is freedom on the other side of pain.  

This was the moment of the great epiphany for me.  I realized that being numb and avoiding the past, the pain, and the truth would never allow me to make it past “GO”.  I would never find my happy if I kept dulling out the pain with Valium.  I needed to sit with it, feel it, and face it.  If I could do this without internally combusting then I might just have a chance.  So, I tried and it was HORRIBLE….but I did it.  I cried and felt like I would die, and yet I lived.  Life is like this sometimes I have learned.

The year of 2012 turned out to be quite a ride, but I hung on and found my own mantra…ebb and flow. There were so many low points last year…times where I thought I wouldn’t be able to find my way out of the maze of confusion and pain, and yet I did. I followed the advice I had been giving others and I was amazed at how much it changed me.  If I could squeeze it all into one word it would be BELIEVE.  It is within this one word that I found the universe; and so I started believing with all of me.

Rebel Thriver has become so much more than a blog for me to express myself…it has evolved into a community; I happen to prefer the word “tribe” to describe us though.  I have amazing people working alongside me now, and the focus is to create a thriving business. This will allow us to help more people, and offer services such as classes, workshops, coaching, and retreats.  There are a couple of quotes that I love and remind me specifically of the tribe: “Remember we all stumble, every one of us. That’s why it is a comfort to go hand in hand” (Emily Kimbrough), and “We are all just walking each other home” (Ram Dass). These pretty much sum up the Rebel Thriver philosophy.  The old adage is true, we live and we learn. It is so amazing to have such incredible people along side of me on this journey; friends who are courageous enough to admit that they too have emerged from broken, and are back on their path, and thriving.

Through the journey of the past year I too have emerged from broken. I took a chance; I jumped off the cliff only to find that my wings had grown stronger that I ever could have imagined.  I am in a constant state of becoming and I love this. I have learned that living in the present moment is where I will find my peace and that I don’t always have to have the answers to the many questions swirling around in my head. The answer is quite simple my friends…BELIEVE.

To all of you who have been with me on this journey I say THANK YOU with all of my heart and soul.  You have helped me to grow, to heal, and to trust life again.  I have SO much love for you, and I thank for holding my hand along the way…you make my world so much better.

Ella xo

I am finally at a place in my life where I can tell my story and not feel burdened by it.  It is my past, and I am NOT my past or what happened to me.  People so often want to feel sorry for me when I tell them a bit of my story.  Which is one of the reasons I don’t share it too much; and details are impossible to share as I am living out of harms way.  I am grateful for the empathy that people express, don’t get me wrong, but it’s really education and awareness that is needed.  I can speak for women and children of domestic violence; I can speak for women who have been raped. These are things that I have lived through and have triumphed over.  These things I understand.

Please don’t misunderstand me when I say I have triumphed.  I live with PTSD and anxiety.  Many people have heard the term PTSD, but they don’t know what it feels like to be inside my head.  I have good days and bad days just like everyone else.  I am however in a constant dialogue with myself about all of the triggers that are constantly going off like landmines in my mind.  Yes, time has lessened the intensity, however, they are still there.  It causes me to lose focus pretty easily and this is the hardest part for me.  I used to be so organized and precise; everything just lined up so easily for me.  Now, I try so hard and some days I just can’t keep it all straight or get it all done.  This causes me anxiety because I am always trying to do my best.  It’s exhausting work being me, and what I need to do is be nicer to myself.

I started this blog less than a year ago.  My intention was to express my feelings and thoughts for therapy.  I needed to be heard…I needed to hear me. Writing it down was the best way for me to do that.  I don’t like to tell the details of my story as they are raw and it’s in the past.  I have left it there finally.  I share my story only so that I can help others feel like they are not alone.  It has been put to me many times that I should write a book, but why would I want to write something that I wouldn’t want to read myself?  Yes, I fell in love and my dream shattered into a million pieces.  I lost my best friend to mental illness.  My children lost a father.  It’s sad stuff.  I had everything I ever wanted in my life…and then it fell apart.

Domestic Violence is humiliating, and it doesn’t discriminate.  I want to help take the stigma away.  I want to help other’s know that they can stop the cycle and that they can have their life back.  It is NOT easy, I won’t lie.  I literally escaped with two babies in my arms.  I have done years and years of work to get to the place that I am today in terms handling my past.  I don’t want to consciously re-visit it.  I do want people to know that I have the capacity to understand though.  I have walked a long, hard road; but even at my weakest I always managed to keep a glimmer of hope alive.  I had a dream that I could have my life back; that’s what kept me going

Rebel Thriver has changed my life. What started out as a personal blog has become a beautiful community.  I have the best friends in the world…literally.  They continue to challenge me and help me along as I continue to grow and work through the tough stuff.  For those of us with broken pasts, we cannot erase them, but we can release them.  Freedom lies on the other side of pain.  That doesn’t mean that our lives will be pain free…it means that we know that the pain will pass.  The sun will shine again and we can feel better.  Our days have not been delegated to the shadows.  We have a choice everyday.  I choose the path of the warrior.  I am a Rebel Thriver with a Cause.

If we can each pay it forward and help each other along then humanity wins.  I give you my hand.  I ask nothing in return but for you to offer yours to someone else. My thoughts might be scattered, but I am focused on one thing.  I dream of growing the Rebel Thriver Tribe into a true community.  I feel I found my true calling.  I haven’t figured out the how yet; I am taking it one day at a time.  Eckhart Tolle says, “Do not be concerned with the fruit of your action – just give attention to the action itself.  The fruit will come of its own accord.”  In other words,”If you build it, they will come.”

It is possible to forgive and let go of the past.  It is possible to have a new beginning. Don’t let your past encroach on your present; don’t let the fear of tomorrow rob you of your today.  Everything is possible if you believe. Miracles do happen if you are open to receiving them.  I have seen them with my own eyes.

xo Ella

“In search of my mother’s garden, I found my own.” – Alice Walker

I have no daughter; it’s something that I will always long for deep within.  I have felt the need to create the relationship with a daughter that I never had with my own mother.  I know as a parent that no one gives you a manual; you take what you have learned and tweak it, throw out the bad, and try to fill in the gaps with the pieces you feel that you missed out on.  Then you wrap it all up in love.  I have already made it clear to my kids that I am far from perfect; i will screw up, but I LOVE them with all my heart and I am going to do my best to raise them into good men.  It’s hard for a woman to raise a man.

“And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see – or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read.” – Alice Walker

My mother has always been beautiful and she possesses a flair for the artistic & dramatic.  As a writer she had the potential to be quite successful if she hadn’t chosen to be a “mother” to a brood of children instead. Back then you didn’t get a choice.  I remember growing up as a small child feeling her frustration.  Knowing even then that she had regrets about her choices.  As a six-year-old I didn’t understand them; I felt like I was in the way, and it was confusing.

As a teenager of the 1950’s my mother lived what appeared to be a storybook life; cheerleading captain, most popular, star of the play, and Queen of the Senior Ball.  We used to play in her ball gowns from high school when I was a kid…I remember the blue one with the white flowers as my favorite. The pictures of her at 16 in her strapless gown, hair done up, and red lipstick on as she waited for her boyfriend (my father) to pick her up for a dance are forever imprinted in my mind.  To me her adolescence was storybook and I figured mine would be the same.  Truth be known, she had an oppressive and abusive father; and those times were turbulent for her.  She ignored the bad and focused on the good memories as she tried to find herself as a young mother.  I only got part of the story, and to me it was what fairy tales were made of.

“In search of my mother’s garden, I found my own.” – Alice Walker

My parents are still married to this day.  They are done raising their children and have grandchildren now. They made a lot of mistakes raising us, like most parents do.  It was brutal actually.  Fear caused them to be strict and turn to religion as the proverbial crutch.  The iron clad grip that they had on us backfired.  There were no dances, strapless gowns or red lipstick for me; no dating or MTV either.  I felt cheated.  I was about 15 when I realized that there was no storybook for me; I realized that I was never going to have what my mother did so I decided to reject it all.  I rejected her.  Her religious beliefs, her conservative style, her need for stability, and her desire for a community of like-minded people.  Their friends were the worst…they got in the way and muddied the waters even more for me.  So, I rebelled.  I took my mother’s creative spark and ran with it.  I threw it back in her face and told her that I would have what she always wanted.  She chose her life and gave up her dreams, but I wouldn’t.  It caused us both a lot of pain, but is was a pain that felt good to me as a teen.

“What I would like to give my daughter is freedom.  And this is something that must be given by example, not exhortation.  Freedom is a loose leash, license to be different from your mother and still be loved…Freedom is…not insisting that your daughter share your limitations.  Freedom also means letting your daughter reject you when she needs to and come back when she needs to.  Freedom is unconditional love.” – Erica Jong

So I grew.  I raised myself emotionally as she wasn’t there to do that. My parents provided for me and they were always there…and still are.  However, as a young adult I was on my own with my thoughts and feelings…pretty scary times when you fuel it with anger.  I endured a lot of unnecessary life scenarios because of this dynamic and it has taken me years to get to where I am today.

Today, I have found my life, my way, my beliefs, and my own garden to tend to.  I have come to peace with the fact that my life didn’t turn out as I thought it would; there would be no storybook.  I fell many times, but every time I fell I got back up.  Life handed me lessons and while it took me awhile to learn some of them (and I have many more to learn), I have been an eager student.  I am not bitter, I accept what has passed before me.  It has all been a part of my journey and it has brought me here.  It helped that my parents apologized to my siblings and I when we were in our 20’s.  They acknowledged many of their mistakes; while they couldn’t change them they wanted us to know they did their best out of love.  Life never handed them a learning manual either and they had to do the best with what they had been given.  And so it goes…generation down to generation.  We try to correct the sins of the past and avoid making our own inevitable ones.

”We found ourselves always torn between the mothers in our heads and the women we needed to become simply to stay alive. With one foot in the past and another in the future, we hobbled through first love, motherhood, marriage, divorce, careers, menopause, widowhood—never knowing what or who we were supposed to be, staking out new emotional territory at every turn—like pioneers.” – Erica Jong

Today the irony does not escape me.  I am so much like my mother in so many ways.  I always thought my sister was just like her, but it is clear to me that after all the years of frustration and rejection of my mother it is I who is so much like her.  I love my children more than life itself, I am artist, I run a group for like-minded women in the search for a community where I feel supported, safe, and loved…and I write.  I have my mother’s passion to help other women and the empathy to do so. She didn’t want me to know her pain growing up and so I only saw the storybook.  From that I learned that the truth is so powerful and so important.  I wish she had told me the whole story.  The empathy she has is what I have inherited from her…It is my birthright and it flows through my veins.  It calls to me stronger than my art does at this time in my life.  To feel that connection to humanity after being such a rebel for so long is the miracle that my mother gave me. She taught me to give back, to love others; to turn my hard knocks into lessons for helping others survive.

I stay in my garden and I stick to my style of planting, growing, and harvesting.  I don’t feel pressured to be different from her to spite her anymore.  I am the gardener of my soul and I make the choices for the well-being of myself and my tribe.  I plant seeds in the sunlight, but I know that we need the rain to have a bountiful crop.  I also know that love, unconditional love makes the flowers grow.  That is what my mother gave me.  She allowed me to reject her and come back to her and still does, unconditionally.

xo Ella

I am the flow.  I love this; it is my new mantra lately.  This, from a girl who has spent her entire life swimming against the flow.  Why?  I don’t know why.  I just never felt like I fit in.  I was always swimming up-stream while everyone else was swimming downstream.  Perhaps it was my insecurities just telling me that I needed to stand out a little to be noticed?  Okay maybe I tried to stand out a lot.

Blue hair, orange hair, black nails, black hair; a pigment of his imagination is what my father used to call me.  I laugh about it now, but back then it felt like he was rejecting me.  I really did try to be myself in a world where so many were just following the pack.  I always followed my heart and while it made me wildly successful in business it nearly killed me in my personal life.

This past year has been chock full of lessons for me.  Painful lessons that took me a long time to finally get.  I’m talking years to finally get.  I have finally arrived at many of the answers, and that makes all the discomfort (okay, most of it) bearable.  It’s kind of practice what you preach, walk the talk, kinda moment for me now.  I am so good at giving advice, but not so great at listening to myself.  That’s one of the things I love most about Rebel Thriver…I get feedback.  Sometimes, I even get called out on something and challenged on my very own thoughts.  I am at a place though in my life that if someone comes to me in love to express a concern about me, my direction, etc. that I can actually sit with it and be pretty open to them.  I welcome it as I cannot do this all alone.  I need that feedback….we all do.  A sounding board for our lives.

I live on the ocean and I am so very aware of her tides.  The ebb and flow of the water is life.  It’s all about flow.  As we like to say in Rebel Thriver…life is a process.  Everything is ebb and flow on the way to finding balance.  I readily admit that for the last few years fear has cause me to befriend ebb and not pay much attention to flow.  That’s changed recently as I have flipped the switch for balance in my life to the ‘on’ position.

Resistance is a very powerful thing.  Sometimes we don’t even realize that we are in fact resisting life.  We make up excuses and turn a blind eye to any opportunity that might find us a way through the shadowy maze. We ignore that a balanced life is about ebb and flow and we just let fear take over and win. Waking up from that is akin to waking with a bad hangover.  It’s hard to shake off, but it’s possible.

I woke up with this very hangover…it lasted for many years.  Ebb was all around me and flow was no where in sight.  It’s all changed now.  How you ask?  Well, I have Hurricane Sandy to really thank for that.  You see i was pretty stuck in my life as it was…going about my business and wondering what the hell I was going to be when I grew up.  Yes this was about 2 months ago.  I know what I want…I dream BIG.  I have a lot of fear though.  The residual effects of abuse run deep and although I was wildly successful in my past career I still lacked the faith in myself that I was able to do it.  Self doubt…it’s a bitch.

Hurricane Sandy came through my life when I thought things couldn’t get any more confusing for me.  She brought me to my knees and opened my eyes.  I realized that all the mental resistance was preventing me from moving forward.  I let go of Ebb and welcomed Flow back into my life. Now they come and go at regular intervals and I know that even if I am afraid of taking a step I have to trust that the ground will be there when I touch down.  I have learned to let go and ride the waves.  Ironic that for a surfer it has taken me so long to get this lesson!

The lesson has been learned.  I am not pushing back now.  I am working with the current and I am finding life to flow so much better.  Why did it take me so long to figure this out?  I guess the bottom line is…FEAR.  Fear makes us believe that if we are “in control” of it all then the bottom won’t drop out.  Fear tricks us because there is no such thing as having control.  So if we can just let go of that false sense of security that we think our “control” gives us then we can be free to take life as it comes.  Just like jumping waves at the beach.  You have to learn when you can go over the wave or when you need to dive deep to avoid the crashing mess above.

Be the flow… this is the lesson that took me over 40 years to learn.  This is the lesson that took my life falling apart to teach me how to bring it together.  This doesn’t mean that I won’t have fear or struggle with choices and decisions…I will.  It means that I am open to hearing what life is trying to show me.  I am open to more than just “my way.”  I am open…and only when we are truly open can our spirits flow.  Xo Ella

The Holidays are here and this is my magical time of the year. I usually start decorating on Thanksgiving weekend and I keep going right until we nestle in for Santa’s arrival on Christmas Eve. Growing up, my mother made Christmas an adventure. We didn’t have a lot of money when I was little, but her attention and involvement was so over the top. We made popcorn garland, paper chains, cookies, cards, went caroling, etc. She really made the season magical and I have tried to do the same with my kids.

Now I do understand that this is a very tough time for many people.  I even hold back a little with my exuberance in public so as to not offend anyone.  I know this season is a double-edged sword for many and it triggers bad memories as equally as it brings good ones for so many.  The holidays can be like a bad taste in your mouth.  It lingers with a dull bitterness.

When I left my husband it was about 2 weeks before Christmas. I had 2 little boys and I walked away from everything I had. My house had been decorated and I had all the shopping done.  I left it all, career, home, clothes, friends, and a lifetime of christmas decorations….everything.  I am sure that my ex husband thinks he won some kind of award for scarring my favorite season forever.  He knew that I believed a magical Christmas was my children’s birthright; that it was my most treasured of times and memories.  He took pleasure in telling my 5-year-old that Santa wasn’t real just to hurt me. He tried in every way to destroy it for me.  Just writing about it hurts me to this day.

I however am stronger than his attempt to ruin this season.  I will admit that Christmas that I left was bleak.  I was numb, terrified, and not very merry to say the least. I remember the following year starting to feel dread about the approaching holiday.  I actually gave him power for a week or so.  Then, I decided to take it back.  How could he take my most precious memories away?  He didn’t have that power unless I gave it to him.

I decided to play offense for Christmas. I started making paper chains, cookies, popcorn garland, and play the Christmas tunes.  I broke out every television special like Rudolph,  Frosty, and the Little Drummer Boy.  I went on an all out reconnaissance for Christmas.  I made Christmas ornaments for our tree and decorated our little cottage till it was nothing short of a magical winter wonderland.  I didn’t have much money, but it is amazing what you can do with paper, scissors, glitter and glue!  I gave my children what I remembered from my childhood….magical memories.

That was my favorite Christmas as an adult…a mother.  I had left everything only to gain it all back.  I made a decision to fight for my happy. I learned a lot that Christmas about fighting for what you love.  That Christmas doesn’t have a price tag; if you try to put one on it then it loses it magic.  You can’t buy Christmas because it isn’t for sale.  You have to work for the magic.

This Christmas my children and I are without a home as a result of Mother Nature.  She sent her sons Heat Miser and Snow Miser out and they collided over my home. (They really are little bastards, but I still can’t wait to see them on TV this year). I lost many of my cherished decorations in the flood that accompanied Hurricane Sandy’s high tides and I started to feel like I did that Christmas that I walked away from it all a few years back.

I admit I was feeling a bit melancholy about the season recently.  I am grateful beyond a doubt that I am not in a shelter and that I have temporary place to stay that is comfy and warm.  However, I was really feeling like I was going to miss the season because I don’t have a home to make magical this year.

Then, I remembered that Christmas doesn’t come in a box;Cindy Lou Hoo was so right on!  I am getting more and more excited as I type this.  I want to go wake my kids up and say, “Christmas is here!”.  I want to crank the tunes, start baking cookies, and make paper chains. I am going to make it happen.  I am going to keep the Christmas magic alive.  I can do this for my kids…for me.  I can give them happy memories after all it only takes my effort and enthusiasm.

Happiness is a choice.  I really believe that.  I also believe that for me, Christmas is a choice.  The memories of my childhood at Christmas are my finest and I won’t settle for less for my kids. Again, it isn’t about what is under the tree…it never was.  It is about the magic; and the condensation on the cold windows when the cookies are baking and the snow is falling.

I know that this is a tough time for many and I really can appreciate that.  I can see how easily it can be…I do understand.  If I didn’t have such magical childhood memories I might not fight so hard, but I do to keep the magic alive. Maybe if you have less than happy memories you can try to find something that you can create or do for you…a new tradition so that you can claim your part of the season rather than dread it; maybe not.

I had an epiphany tonight and I am really grateful for that.  I am NOT going to give into the despair of less than perfect circumstances and miss the magic of this season.  I herby declare that, “Christmas is on!”. Santa still comes here and I have cookies to bake and magic to make.  I am so grateful that we are not in a shelter this year, but if we were…we would still find the magic because it is there if you are willing to look for it.   Ella xo

Ps. My 5-year-old didn’t believe his father when he told him that there was no Santa; even though he made a convincing try.  My son chose to BELIEVE, and Santa continued to come to him for about 5 more years because he chose to hold on to the magic!

* Thank you A Room with a View on Facebook for the amazing photo’s.

It’s not really the falling down that is the problem…it’s whether or not you get up. You should know by now that life takes no hostages. We live in a dog eat dog world where everyone is preoccupied with climbing up the rungs of the ladder of success. Humans are more concerned with winning the race than they are about having a healthy and happy journey.

My dear friend send me a quote the other day that read, “Sometimes you fall down because there is something down there that you are supposed to find.” What a great perspective! I quote my dear Mother, “Life will always find a way to humble you.” I used to hate when she said that when I was growing up, but she was so right. The key here is that we can choose to learn from the fall or we can choose to roll as a victim in a pile of bad luck.

Life to me is all about the three L’s: Love, Learning, and Laughter. So many of us strive for the Love and the Laughter while trying to avoid the Learning; after all learning isn’t always pleasant, is it? They call them “growing pains” for a reason you know.  Sometimes, the pain is so great, we bleed and we cry and yet we still don’t learn the lesson we need to. So, we find ourselves back again in a similar situation until we learn the lesson.

I believe that some situations are meant to teach us from more than one angle. We might need to have that de ja vu experience more than once to learn it all. If we are lucky we only have to do it once, but how many of us are lucky? If we are smart we only have to do it….well, perhaps it’s a combination of luck and smarts that might just push you through. I am determined, focused and I like to work hard, set a goal, and get what I started after. This can be really good or really bad. When I was younger I felt that if I didn’t follow through to the end and achieve my end goal that I failed. Now that I am older and more enlightened i know that life is fluid and we need to be flexible. We need to be open to change course when the wind shifts. Just like sailing.

I had a college roommate who used to say to me, “God, you are one stubborn and determined girl. You are smart, but you keep banging your head into the same damned wall. One day, it’s gonna hurt like hell and then hopefully you’ll learn that you need to change your path and go around the wall.” I knew she was right then, but I needed to bang my head quiet a few times to finally get it through my thick skull.

I think the Rolling Stones were so spot on when they sang, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime…you might just get what you need.” Learning is a process and part of that process is being able to walk away when a situation isn’t right. We don’t always have to try to fix it or them. Being flexible can take you just as far as determination, maybe further.

Where am I going with all of this? I am trying to tell you that it’s okay to fall. It’s okay to change your path, and it’s okay to change your mind. Falling doesn’t mean that you failed. You have to remember that this is your life and that the only person you need to answer to is you. Growing up in a western culture the emphasis is on personal acquisitions. If you own the world, but do not know yourself, what have you gained?

I know all of this, and have since a young age, yet I am human. Therefore I screw up and I bang my head into the same wall time and time again. I get frustrated and mad and wonder who the hell keeps putting that wall in my way?! Gratefully, I also know that along the way I have become somewhat enlightened enough to know that I put the wall there. I need to learn something, and until I can step back and really search and listen I will never learn the lessons needed.  It’s up to me.

I just bashed my head really hard into a big old familiar wall. This time it hurt…and trust me I learned. I had that “a ha” moment and just like that I learned the lesson that life has so desperately been trying to teach me for countless years. Yes, I said years, and I will remind you again of the sage words of my Mama, “Life will humble you.” Oh why didn’t I listen to her?

My friends, don’t lose heart when you fall down. Don’t be so quick to jump up and act like no one saw you either. Let your friends help you up and take the time to really listen to their advice. Take the time you need to really check the situation…you can even look for the lesson amidst the rubble. Sometimes it’s right in front of your face, but you just don’t want to acknowledge it. We all learn at our own pace, but take one piece of advice from me, now that I have learned a thing or two…”Keep your eyes open and on the path in front of you…be open to learning, advice, and change. Remember it’s not all about the destination; the journey has its good points too.”

Xoxo Ella

There is a crack in my soul that I didn’t even realize I had. I realized that at one point in my life no so long ago I had many; maybe a few hairline fractures left, but NOT this.

I have had the privilege of being raised by amazingly loving parents who have been together for over 55 years. My father is my hero. Not perfect by any chance, but steadfast, loyal, and oh so steady. He has always been there for me. No matter what. Period. I am blessed and I know it.

Today, as I was sitting in a therapy session with my young son, I noticed this crack in my soul.  I have walked a path unlike most mothers that I know. It’s taken my son about 6 years to start verbalizing his feelings. I’ve waited a long time for this. Until now his feelings would come out as physical reactions to the triggers going off in his vast mind. I could see all of the pieces, but I couldn’t put them together. He is one of two gifts that I received during my abusive marriage.  Thank GOD for the them they are the silver lining.

Many people would think that a man would take it easy on their pregnant wife.  He did the first time; beginners luck?  When I was pregnant with my second child I knew after the 3rd month that the nightmare had begun. The kind of nightmare you try to wake yourself up from, but there is no hope. This time there would be no apologies or therapy sessions.  The proverbial straw broke the camels back and the abuse continued until the children and I were able to flee to safety.

My baby was about 2 years old by then. Domestic Violence caused this perfect little baby to come into this world early, and it is what has caused him so much anxiety and frustration. It’s taken years of patience for me to wait not knowing if he would ever be able to verbalize how he felt…or what it was that actually made him feel “bad”. His anxiety levels are high and he is worried that things aren’t going to turn out okay. No matter how much I assure him the anxiety remains. The fear of the bottom dropping out again is always there, and my anxiety doesn’t exactly help him either.

Today we had a bit of a break thorough though! We have already established that he is angry, but that’s about as far as we have managed to get. Today it crystalized in his brilliant little mind. He spoke clearly and verbalized his inner most feelings for the first time really. He wishes that he could be “normal”.  He wants a normal family. He wants a Dad; one that is actually in his life. He wants to have a home where he can stay and feel safe and not have to run in the middle of the night. He wants stability.

I wish I could tell him that I want the same thing, but I can’t.  It’s my job to “make the best of the adventure”.  I have done everything in my power to give this to him, but I can’t remove the cause of our anxiety. That person still walks this earth and as long as I am a mother I will have to make the necessary moves to protect my children. I know it is hard on them. Shit it’s HARD as hell on me.  We have lived a life that movies are made of.  The fine details are not permissible for our safety; suffice it to say though, that this little boy has endured what most adults will never have to consider.

I am so proud of my son. I am so incredibly grateful that he was able to verbalized this today. I felt like the caged bird finally sang it’s sad song. He was exhausted from the process and sad for having heard it come out of his own mouth I believe. The simple realization that this is his life, and he wished it were different. God knows I try my best to make his little life as magical and blissful as I can. I try to make everyday an adventure so he feels special and not different.

I don’t think I realized until today how deeply sad he is about having a void where a father should be. He doesn’t see or talk to the man who helped create him. He just doesn’t have a dad and I have tried to remedy that.  I met an incredible man and I thought he was it, but he died less than a year ago. I know my son is devastated from that because he misses him and he wants a dad. Period. Unfortunately, that’s simply a void I cannot fill and Lord knows I have tried.

It was at this moment with him that I realized that there was a crack in my soul; I had to use all my super hero powers to hold back the tears. This crack cannot be fixed with love from another. I cannot repair it with laughter. It is what it is.  It is because of my choices that my son suffers. No, I don’t hold myself hostage for this, but it has created such a sadness within. I thought I could be both a mother and a father if I loved him enough, but I can’t. He’s a boy and he wants a dad, and that is that.

I read something lately that said that the cracks in a person are what let the light in. It was meant to be funny since I am a bit left of center; cracked. However, after considering this more I think I am going to have to go with that idea with all sincerity. My soul is cracked and the light is going to pour in until the day comes that I can remedy this situation. Until then all I can do is be the best mother and friend this little boy can have, and keep the conversation going. I thank GOD that he is talking even though it kills me a little every time I hear his little voice speak such sad truths.

This is not going to be a sad ending though.  I am his mother and I hold the pen.  I am writing a happy ending to this adventure and I plan many adventures along the way.  Itwill be filled with love, magic, and whimsy; and when he is angry I must remember that he is just sad.  I must remember to wear my crown and cape everyday as I set out to save the day.  How blessed am I to be able to be on this journey with my two best friends?  xo Ella 

And finally I twist my heart round again, so that the bad is on the outside and the good is on the inside, and keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so like to be, and could be, if there weren’t any other people living in the world. – Anne Frank

It would seem that as soon as I think I understand, I quickly learn that I don’t.  I am trying though.  Trust me I am giving it my all.  Life has thrown me some serious fast, curve, and foul balls and I keep swinging.  My inner coach is starting to be able to spot them as they come now and I am learning how to play the game.  At least I would like to think that I am and that all of this hasn’t been in vain.

I sit here and reflect over the last few years; my life deserves a special on the Lifetime Channel.  I laugh to myself at the thought because those movies are always so overly dramatic.  I think of my life as more of a Traumady.  I keep laughing even through the drama and the tears. Laughter has saved me, and while it has sometimes come at the most inappropriate of moments it has kept me alive and kept me going.

I simply can’t build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery and death… I think… peace and tranquillity will return again. – Anne Frank

I keep moving forward and I keep growing through the pain.  I really do BELIEVE that when I turn the page this time tranquility will return.  I am hoping for at least a little peace.  It’s hard to start over, and I feel like the last few years have been nothing but do overs.  I want something to stick.  I want someone to BELIEVE in me enough to stay the course and see the possibilities.  That’s the hardest part about being divorced…all my dreams seemed to vanish with it.  The collateral damage included my career and that’s the hardest part for me.  I want new dreams, but I am scared to trust only to find myself in the quicksand again.  Yet, I still somehow believe that it will all work out for me and my little tribe of beach gypsies.  I guess that is what you would call faith. 

I don’t think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains. – Anne Frank

I’m a dreamer and I BELIEVE in love.  I want to share my life with someone and I want more than anything to give my sons a father for once.  The one they were given had a factory defect and he just couldn’t learn to walk.  In spite of it all, we are a happy tribe and we have an unusually close bond that most families don’t have because of what we survive together.  If only I could tell you the details of my complex life then you might understand why it’s so hard to keep up.  I will rise though like the Phoenix from the ashes and I will SOAR again.  I just don’t know when and that is the hard part. Patience in the process.  I want to take flight now, but I have two little birds in my nest and take off isn’t as easy as you might think when you are trying to balance it all.
How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world. – Anne Frank

I keep working on myself and being the best mother that I know how.  In the end it comes down to LOVE really.  Beyond that I am simply me and that means I am perfectly imperfect.  I cannot do it all and I will make mistakes, but my heart is in the right place and I yearn to help everyone.  I am an empath and I feel everyone’s pain all to well.  If only I could help myself as well as I do others.  It’s much easier to give advice then it is to listen to your own.  Alas, that is just a part of life.  We learn as we go.

Whoever is happy will make others happy too. – Anne Frank

I would like to BELIEVE that it is as easy as this.  The truth is that it isn’t.  I was sucker punched recently and I staggered, but I caught myself before I fell.  I stepped back from life and became quiet. I saw the ripple effect of my solitude on the others in my life.  It was a stark difference from how it usually is.  I caught myself though and that is the important thing here.  My heart cannot be broken again.  Twice is more than any heart can take in a lifetime I think.  The sorrow is deep and the confusion has blinded me, yet still I will rise like the Phoenix.

It’s really a wonder that I haven’t dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. – Anne Frank

I’m moving forward with baby steps.  I have no idea where I am going, but I have to keep moving.  I want to believe that people really are good at heart and that their intentions are pure, but I sometimes have my doubts.  Life has taught me this so far.  The final page in this chapter is ending and the new chapter is looming in the near future, but it has no title yet.  Perhaps I should do that?  Give it a title and live into it or shall I just live it and name it after? That’s the tricky part isn’t it.  If I title it first then I automatically put expectations on how it should end up and we all know what happens when we put expectations on life.

I must uphold my ideals, for perhaps the time will come when I shall be able to carry them out. – Anne Frank

In the final analysis I have no other choice but to live the questions now as Rilke so poetically put it.  To live one day into the answer.  If only it were that easy…as I am not the most patient person when it comes to myself.  I’ve gotten so much better at it, but I still have a way to go.  That’s the problem with being a dreamer.  We aren’t the most practical of people and we so often trust to soon, and envision an outcome that might just never come to pass.  That’s just a recipe for disappointment.  The key is to seize the day and live in the moment.

Whoever is happy will make others happy too. – Anne Frank

I will put away fear, ego, and self loathing.  I will move forward one step at a time knowing that I am worthy of love.  I am worthy of a commitment that can last a lifetime.  I am worthy of all my dreams coming true.  I just have to BELIEVE this and rest up for dreams don’t always come easy.  All the good things in life are worth a little blood, sweat, and tears.  This I know from experience.

The final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands. – Anne Frank

It’s up to me an no one else.  My children depend on me and I depend on me.  The trials I have faced, the heart-break I have endured, have all played a part in who I am and my character.  I take pride in knowing that I am really good at heart.  I am decent and honest, trustworthy, and loyal to a fault.  All I can to is keep moving forward one step at a time.  Slowly, turn the page and finish this chapter so I can move on to the next one.  God knows, I am doing the best I can and that’s all I can do in the end.  I push hard and will sleep well tonight knowing that a new chapter is about to begin and I am ready.  I am so ready to learn to walk again.  I believe I’ve waited long enough.

Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy. – Anne Frank

 

How do you shine a light on darkness?  This came up tonight in a discussion on the Rebel Thriver Facebook page.  I am not a bold in your face kinda gal.  I am a strong, fiercely independent, but for the most part reserved type.  I would rather laugh than scream and I don’t carry a big stick.  I have actually been referred to as Mary Poppins, which gives me a giggle.  Don’t get me wrong; I can be bold when I need to be and life has taught me how to fight back.  We all have our own style though and mine is to inspire and lead through positivity.

Tonight I hedged quite a while on posting a particular poster about Domestic Violence. It has a gripping visual that sucker punched me at first sight.  I wanted to share, but it felt out of my comfort zone.  I waited a couple of hours and decided to be COURAGEOUS and post it.  You see when I saw this picture I saw myself.  This could have been a picture of me, right down to the wedding dress.  The abuse started on my honeymoon and lasted for 11 years.

The responses to this poster varied on the page.  Some people identified and were thankful, while others voiced anger at what has happened to them or their loved ones.  I continue to receive comments as I write this, both privately and on the Rebel Thriver page.  It’s a mixed bag of emotions and I really do understand that.

Today the word of the day for the Rebel Thriver tribe is HOPE.  I posted this picture because I have HOPE.  In my darkest of moments that spark never went out.  I KNEW I had to keep HOPE alive for my children, and for me.  It is that tiny spark that started to grow and has led me on the journey here to you.

I started Rebel Thriver because I did survived this ugly secret that no one wants to talk about.  It’s a humiliating and painful truth to be honest.  I felt tainted for so long.  I was told over and over that I was nothing, and no one would ever love me.  I started to believe that after a while, but then the HOPE that I stored so very deep inside me, saved me.  Hope propelled me to walk out one night with the clothes on my back and my 2 small children in my arms.  I left with nothing and I was terrified beyond anything that I could possibly express in human words.

The thing is that I survived.  When I got away I felt nothing but an incredible relief and overwhelming gratitude.  I knew from that moment on that I would NEVER take any thing for granted.  Everyday, every friend, and everything in my life is a blessing.  Even the hard lessons, because through them I learn and I grow stronger.

It took me years, but I am so happy to be able to say that I am finally free.  I forgave my ex husband for what he did to me and what he took away from me.  He shattered my dreams and laid waste to my life, but I learned that through forgiveness I could be free.  Freedom is something I feel within.  Arguably, many would say that my daily reality has been altered so much in trying to remain safe that I am not truly free.  I have been pushed into a life where it is very hard to be myself for fear of my family being found and hurt.  It is for this reason that I live a shadow life.  I move among many, and they know my name, but not my story.

Forgiveness has been a HUGE step for me.  This hasn’t changed any external factors.  My ex is still off the page and the career I loved is gone, but I decided that I was NOT going to let that hold me back.  I started Rebel Thriver to shine that light on the darkness.  To lead by example and show others that no matter what life my have visited upon you there is always HOPE for a happy ending, even when we feel so very tired.

I posted this tonight because I feel that it is my duty as the leader of this amazing tribe to speak my truth, even if my voice shakes.  It is the path I walk now and I feel that I sometimes need to show the ugly in order to get to the beautiful.  Anger is not my way and does not live within me.  I lived with an angry person for so many years, so why would I ever want to address any of you with something that would elicit an angry response within you?  I have learned that anger is not the way for me.  I can express myself and speak my truth without the hate and the negativity that this particular poster evokes in so many.  I am sorry if I triggered anyone with this poster, but my HOPE was to shine the light on the darkness.  You see I was that bride once.  I had the fairytale wedding and handsome husband; along with all the smoke and mirrors it took to keep that facade up for 11 years.

If you are living in an abusive relationship I want you to hold onto HOPE.  Don’t you DARE give up!  There is a light at the end of the tunnel and I am here to tell you this because I see it.  I am living it.  I’m still scared everyday…i have to recreate my life and raise two kids on my own.  It’s downright scary, but I keep moving forward because…I made a decision to THRIVE.  I decided that no matter what, I would rise up and overcome what had happened to me.  So my friends I want you to all know that you are loved; and that anger and hate will not solve any of your problems.  Love and forgiveness is the way to peace, and when you can truly open yourself up to receiving these gifts then you will also grow in wisdom and grace.  Then you can walk your path and shine light on the darkness so others will know that HOPE springs eternal and has the ability to change your life…even the darkest of nights.

Ella xo

As a little girl I had BIG dreams for my life.  The truth is that my life has turned out nothing like I thought it would back when I was a kid.  Everything is different from what I imagined it would be.  I had expectations even then.  One thing I have learned on this journey is that if you have expectations you end up disappointed.  Dreams are important but you need a nice dose of reality to keep them balanced.

I have walked a rough road for much of my adult life. There have been good years, bad years, and years I thought I would never live to see the end of.  However I still rise.  I am here and I have chosen to THRIVE.  We all deserve to live happy in the end.

It has taken me many years to arrive at this point. When I look back at my youth I remember happy sunny days growing up in a house filled with brothers and sisters.  I guess things took a rapid turn for me when I was in grade school.  My Catholic parents decided to get involved with a religious organization that really shook my world to the core.  It engulfed our lives and left me feeling isolated and unheard.

My parents were children of the 50’s. I romanticized the pictures of them from highschool in my head.  My mother in her strapless puffy dresses and red lipstick…cheerleader, King & Queen of the Senior Ball; they were nothing but smoke and mirrors for me a child of the 80’s.  By the time I reached high school any chance of me having a life like my parents did was shattered.  There would be no school of my choice, no make up, no dating.  I felt cheated and ultimately isolated.  In retrospect, I know my parents made decisions not to hurt me, but to keep me safe.  It’s ironic, but when you grip something too tightly you run the risk of suffocating it.

Good News…I survived adolescence with a healthy dose of rebellion and multi-colored hair.  Punk rock was the background music to my daily life and it fueled me on.  I thank God for that healthy anger that screamed out, “No matter what you say, It cannot be a sin to feel the way I feel.”  I still feel the same today after all these years…minus the multi-colored hair.

You have to be very careful as you journey through your life.  Sometimes the things or people who you feel comfortable with are exactly the people and situations you should run from.  For me that was the mistake I made with my husband.  His control felt comfortable to me at first.  It was familiar like a worn in pair of shoes.  I thought it showed that he really cared deeply.  I couldn’t see it for what it was until it was too late.  Eleven years and two kids later I didn’t know if I would get out alive.  I was caught up in my smoke and mirrors this time.  I hid the reality from everyone; my family, friends, and co-workers.  My mother told me after I got away that I deserved an Academy Award for my performances all those years as the happy wife.  She is probably right, I do.

Here I am today living as a single mother with two kids in a life I never imagined for myself.  This was NOT how the script was supposed to play out.  Last night I said to my best friend, “How did my life end up like this?  It’s like the train just went off the tracks.”  Everything is different, yet I am still the same girl whose blue eyes are filled with dreams of what she wants to be when she grows up.  I know who I am now…that’s the silver lining here. All the trials and struggles have helped me to really do the work I needed to do, and delve deeper into myself.  I know my strengths and I know my weaknesses.  I am the captain of my ship.

Just where is the ship sailing? That is the question I ask myself.  The answer is that it is up to me to hoist the sails and set the course to find my True North.  The journey has begun and now I am choosing to change the direction of it.  I have taken the wheel and I am in control…even though half of the time I feel like I’m not. I feel like I am about to careen into the rocks and slip under into the deep, dark, and ice-cold ocean waters; but I know that this is just insecurity lingering from when the bottom dropped out before.

I am a writer, and in being one I have decided that I get to write the ending to my life story.  I still have a way to go on this journey, and I hold the pen.  I can craft my life into the one that I want.  I can go into the candy store and hand-pick my dreams.  They only thing preventing them from coming true is me.  This is a very powerful thing to acknowledge and accept.  It is both liberating and terrifying at the same time. This is where I am….on the edge with my wings spread preparing to jump and hoping that these magnificent wings work on the free fall down.

I am a survivor and I have chosen to rise in spite of the circumstances of my life.  I am not willing to settle for an unexamined life.  A life that is not in par with my dreams.  As an adult I can dream with a tempered mind….all I dream I can manifest if I BELIEVE and do the work.

You must always remember that you are NOT your past.  You may have lived through hell and walked through fire, but you are NOT what happened to you.  You are what you chose to be…you can write yourself a happy ending to the story of your life.  I’ve started writing my happy ending, but I am still waiting to get to the good part.   xo Ella