My Connection with a Man on the Moon

Neil Armstrong took his last breath on Earth yesterday, some 43 years after he first walked on the moon.  I never met him.  However, I still feel like I had a connection to him, and his passing touches me. That famous lunar walk occurred just a couple days after I drew my first breath on this Earth.  I was still getting used to life outside my mother's womb when Armstrong took his first steps on the moon and uttered his famous words.  

Being an astrological moon child, I always thought it was pretty cool that man first walked on the moon around the time I was born.  Apollo 11 was on it's way there when I made my way here... or so I sometimes (with a sense of humor) like to think.  Maybe we passed each other in space.  :)  When I was younger and dreamed of being an astronaut,  Neil Armstrong was my hero.  I just always felt a connection with him for taking those steps as I was adjusting to being here on Earth. 

When my husband interviewed for a position at Purdue University, I didn't know much about Purdue.  For some reason, even though I grew up in Big Ten country, Purdue was not on my radar.  I didn't even know it was in Indiana, and my impression of Indiana was mainly that it was the home of that Vice President that derided Murphy Brown and didn't know how to spell.  I wasn't too sure about moving to Indiana, but when I realized that Neil Armstrong went to Purdue, it actually seemed like maybe I was meant to be there too... 

So maybe I never met Neil Armstrong, and my connection is more fantasy than reality, but whenever I drive past his statue outside the Neil Armstrong Hall of Engineering I feel like coming to Indiana was meant to happen.  I feel like there was a destiny that I have fulfilled. 

So RIP, Mr. Armstrong.  Thank you for lighting my path a bit in this life so far, and may your spirit continue to light the way for many in the future.

Half Moon

I look up at the moon and see

What feels like truly part of me.

Sliced nearly in half, I see her glow

The darker part will ebb and flow.

 She hangs above me in the sky

And watching her, I always sigh.

For she is, in fact, my guiding light

I feel great blessings at her sight.

A Couple of Introverts go to Bonnaroo....

A view of the tent city

My husband and I attended our second Bonnaroo Music festival this year.  In case you don't know, Bonnaroo is a 4-day music festival where over 80,000 people camp-out and hang-out and rock-out on a farm in Manchester, Tennessee.  Over 80,000 people.  Over 80,000.  People.

We went last year mainly because there were a couple bands we really really wanted to see, and we wanted to be brave and daring and suffer through the heat and port-o-potties... and we survived!  And very much like child-birth, we focused on the result and decided to do it again....crazy people that we are.

Us

See, my husband and I are really both pretty much introverts, and 80,000+ people is a lot of people to be around for 4 days straight.  He and I are different in the way we deal with it though; I think he is more content to just get lost in the crowd, whereas I am really more *afraid* of getting lost in the crowd... so we definitely have different thoughts on the experience.  I can really only speak (write) for myself though.

Last year when we went we really didn't know what to expect.  We read up on it and talked to some experienced Rooers, but again - much like childbirth - you really don't know until you experience it.  It was hot and dusty and stinky and crowded... and the music was AWESOME.  And really, it was nice to get away with the old hubby.... and yeah, we felt old.   

Our Tent

This year we were more prepared - both mentally and physically.  Most importantly we had a tent/awning to go over our tent and give us more shade (yay!), and we were more careful to not let our car battery die as we unloaded (good for recharging the phone battery).  We were also a bit luckier with the weather so the heat wasn't quite so bad.  And really being more mentally prepared for the crowds and stinky toilets is really helpful.  :)

The Shins

Again, the music was awesome and we discovered a couple new bands, and we didn't get too sick of each other in the many hours of togetherness... But we also were reminded that we need to work on our social skills, and I think that if we go again we really need to be willing to be more out-going, cause really with so many people around, it is good to enjoy their company more.  True, most of the people there are much younger than us - it really is mostly a 20-something crowd - but we saw plenty of older folks too.  And admittedly since we don't smoke we lose out on a very popular conversation starter there... but I'm not gonna take up smoking just for that.  I don't think it is horrible to be an introvert, and I'm actually very happy with who I am, but I do hope that if I go back I will be just a little more out-going....

Red Hot Chili Peppers

So hey - if anyone reading this would like to join us next year, let me know.... I'd love to know more people there.

Fear and Compassion

I am writing this from a hotel room in Nashville.  I am here for one day, while my husband gives a talk and meets with a bunch of people at a university.  Tomorrow we head to the Bonnaroo music festival for 4 days outside with about 80,000 strangers.... So today I have some time to myself.  And that should be good.  Unfortunately my fear has gotten a hold of me and I have been beating myself up for the past hour or so.

I have been told that Nashville is a pretty nice place, and with a whole afternoon to myself I thought maybe I'd check it out.  But I am too scared.  I know anxiety pretty well, and what started out as a little nervousness turned into pretty good anxiety and I became afraid that if I went out I would have a full-blown panic attack...and those are just not much fun.  I've had them before in public places and I really prefer to prevent them if possible. 

The thing about my anxiety is that it doesn't always make sense.  Panic and anxiety really are not rational.  Sometimes I can work through it and "feel the fear and do it anyway", but other times it really is best to just be compassionate with myself and let me hide in my hotel room.  After about an hour of trying to push through it today, I decided the room is not so bad.  It looks like a beautiful day outside, but I will be outside for the next 4 days.  And Nashville, well... if there was a park or water right nearby I'd be out there, but I don't feel like getting the car out of valet parking and driving somewhere, and the nearest park is a half-hour walk down a potentially pedestrian un-friendly road.  I'm not into stores and shopping, and I have a little food in the room, so here I stay. 

What bothers me is the fear.  I have an enormous fear of asking directions, and even of being seen.  I actually believe that somehow I don't have the "right" to be places... like I don't even have the right to exist.  I kinda figure that if I can exist quietly, without anybody noticing, then I am ok... but if I have to ask directions or draw attention to myself that I will be "found out" and sent away or something even more humiliating (while I rationally know this doesn't make sense, this seems to be pretty spot-on with how I feel if I look deep inside).  I'm not sure I've ever articulated that quite like that before, but it really feels like truth to me.  I suppose writing it down like this is maybe not a good idea though because now anyone who reads this will know how deeply psychologically whacked I am!  Oh well.  It really does seem to be a root cause to so much of my anxiety.

Now, having written that, I can also admit that I don't always feel that way.  Sometimes I really do feel like I have the right to exist!  And once in awhile I even like attention.  But mostly I really am afraid that people will find out that I am a fraud of some kind and I figure that once they know the "real me" they won't like me.  So I really prefer to keep to myself and try to prevent that.  So here I am; alone, hiding in my hotel room on a beautiful summer day....

But today I will practice compassion for myself.  Tomorrow I will get back out in the sun.

Anniversary Reactions

This past weekend held two significant traumatic anniversaries for me, and in true Jen-fashion I had anniversary reactions. The older anniversary was from 1988, and I have done a lot to recover from that trauma and it might not have been so bad... but last year I had another trauma that is still pretty fresh and this was the first anniversary of that one so it compounded things. Two traumatic anniversaries in one day/weekend kinda sucked.

This won't happen every year; that first trauma - from 1988 - was a "night before Easter" thing... the actual date was really April 2/3. There have been many years where it haunted me but I didn't understand the whole "anniversary reaction" thing. Sadly, in it's association with Easter, I have not been a big fan of that holiday for quite some time... but I have learned to deal with my reactions and get by. Last year - on April 7 - I experienced another trauma, and the wounds are still pretty fresh and raw... and although I tried to not let the anniversary get to me too much, my anniversary reactions were pretty strong and a bit frustrating.

It may seem that by writing about this I am dwelling on the trauma and perpetuating the reactions. I don't believe that to be the case. What I am doing is acknowledging something that occurs whether I am conscious of it or not; my body remembers things that my conscious mind does not, and I become agitated and unusually "moody" during these times. Understanding the anniversary reaction helps me to be forgiving and gentle with myself when this happens, and I believe it helps me to heal. But it is still frustrating.

One kinda neat thing about this year is that when I woke up on Easter Sunday, it was a bit of my own resurrection; I had a new day and a new year and new healing. Maybe I can make new peace with the holiday too; I hadn't really realized the spiritual timing of my traumas before. Maybe what happened last year was a reminder that I hadn't fully understood the significance of my earlier traumas... I believe I still have lessons to learn.

I have some time before my next trauma anniversary in May. Perhaps I can spend some time looking at it more objectively and heal more of my wounds. I know that if I try to ignore it my body will just shout at me louder. But if I acknowledge it, I can make peace with it more gently... and I welcome that.

Peace and Love.

Happiness

Ok, I admit it. I am not a "happy" person. I am wary of too much happiness. I am suspicious of exceedingly happy people. I do not trust "happy". Bah humbug to "happy".
But that doesn't mean I am always miserable either.

Ok, so I also admit I have been my share of "miserable". It is a well-learned skill that I was taught growing up in my family. And I admit that when things go wrong, I do have a tendency to crash and burn. And well, things do sometimes go "wrong". But... well... I am trying to find that balance between the "happy" that I distrust, and the "miserable" that I unfortunately feel a bit more comfortable with.

Some people may be shocked to think that someone would be more comfortable with misery over happiness. And truthfully, I am rather puzzled with it myself. But the thing is, somehow I have internalized this belief that misery is safer than happiness. Crazy, huh? But then again, obviously I am not alone because otherwise there would not be such a market for positive inspiration... all that "do not be afraid" stuff is so popular because people *are* afraid, and often afraid of going after what they want and even being...happy.

In my own experience, I have internalized a notion that I don't deserve to be "happy". I have somehow come to believe - deep down - that I get punished when I am happy. I wrote about it a little in my post "When I Was Fifteen (an Introduction)"; because I do think that having a few traumatic experiences occur shortly after I have been "happy" has really taught me that happy is dangerous. I can actually think of many many examples throughout my life... but then I realize that if I can really look at things objectively, maybe "happy" is not the cause.... but as I said, it is a belief that I have internalized and the feeling is so strong that it is really tough to change.... I *am* working on changing it, though progress is pretty damn slow sometimes.

So I still don't trust "happy". If someone asks me what makes me happy, I think to myself that I don't want to be happy; I want to be at peace, and I want to experience love and maybe some joy once in awhile... but happy still feels dangerous to me. Still I will say that things make me happy - it is a word that gets used a lot - I will comment on places in nature being my "happy place",..., but really truly I am looking for peace...comfort...and once in awhile moments of contentment and even joy. But not too much. Too much joy = happy, and then my body starts to worry and look for trauma, and often then it seems to find it.

So please be understanding that I don't display much happy. It is still too closely associated with trauma, and I just can't go there right now. I'm tired and beaten down and for now it is safer to quietly go about my life and try to just get through it. Don't push happy on me.

On the other hand, I'm happy if you're happy. :)

When I Was Fifteen (a follow-up)

So, I wrote my introductory post to When I Was Fifteen, and nothing really came of it. I was pretty nervous putting it out there and I guess relatively thankfully, it didn't get much reaction. My daughter never said anything, so I figure she either didn't read it, or she doesn't want to know the details... and that's cool. Someone recently shared with me their own experience with finding things out about their mother, and how it scarred them, and I am glad that I didn't push anything on my own daughter. I'm not a big fan of pushing information on people.

A couple days after my last post was an anniversary for me; one that has caused great angst and strong anniversary reactions in me over the years. It was an anniversary of something that happened - not when I was fifteen - but rather when I was seventeen. I do believe that that incident occurred in part because of what happened when I was fifteen though. Unfortunately traumatic experiences can increase chances of other traumatic experiences - especially when we don't know how to deal with the earlier experiences... and unfortunately for me, I've had quite a few.

The concept of trauma is an interesting one for me as well. There are people who have gone through what I have gone through and not been as traumatized as I have. But I am someone who has always felt things very strongly (to the point where my entire life people have told me I am "over-sensitive"). I used to get really upset with myself for feeling things so intensely, but fortunately I discovered that that sensitivity is actually really useful for some things (such as being a mother, or a massage therapist). But for many many years I felt not only guilty about what happened to me, but also rather ashamed at my reactions; I felt like there was something wrong with me for not being able to just blow it off and forget about it. And believe me, I tried. But one thing I discovered is that I may have been able to push things out of my mind, but I couldn't push them out of my body. The body remembers even what the mind can forget....

So I still carry with me the things that happened to me when I was fifteen. I *have* managed to heal a lot of the injuries, but there are still scars, and occasionally the wounds will still open back up - though not nearly as frequently as they used to. I think that one of the most important things I have learned over the years is that I can't run away from it; I can't pretend that things didn't happen. It *is* my life and it is my history, and the scars are my scars and the healing is my healing. And just like the visible scars fade over time, my emotional scars have faded some... They aren't gone, but they don't hurt quite as much as they used to.

When I Was Fifteen (an Introduction)

My daughter turned fifteen a few months ago, and there are things that I want to tell her...things I've been meaning to tell her, but also afraid to tell her...personal things...about when I was fifteen.

I turned fifteen the summer before my sophomore year of high school, and that school year turned out to be the highlight of my school career; the year that things were "best"... my peak. Pretty sad, really. The years before and after were pretty awful, and it is strange to look back on the year as my one good year... But after that school year, something very traumatic happened to me that essentially stunted my emotional growth and left a part of me forever adolescent...and sad and afraid.

Having a daughter turn fifteen had loomed for me. I had anticipated it's arrival with definite trepidation. I wondered how I should handle it; how much I should tell her about my life...how I should warn her about the dangers in the world... My daughter seems to be more self-confident than I was at her age, with a much greater sense of self and a thankfully more stable life.... so maybe I don't need to warn her... Maybe people won't see her as prey and try to corner her and take advantage of her... Or maybe she won't be so shocked when they do.

I was shy and scared and terribly trusting. I wanted to believe the best in people and got in way over my head... and something happened that forever changed me and left emotional scars that remain to this day. It made me afraid to ever feel good and be confident again...because the one time I was, I felt like I was punished. I felt like what happened to me was my punishment for having a good school year and finally feeling a little bit confident....

Now I want to protect my daughter. I am afraid for my daughter because I know how dangerous this world can be to a young woman. I know how selfish and persistent some people can be, and I know my daughter is sweet (which can make her vulnerable). I hope that she is as confident as she seems and isn't as trusting as I was...and I think that is the case. But I am still a little afraid of what I might do to someone if they did to my daughter what was done to me... I really hope none of us has to find out.

I write this and still wonder... how much should I tell my daughter about when I was fifteen...

Perhaps she will read this and ask me.

On Re-Writes and Do-Overs

Okay, it seems to be more trendy to say we have no regrets (there are all kinds of famous and not-so-famous quotes about living without regrets)... and while I admire that in many ways, I kinda follow more along the Katharine Hepburn quote:

"I have many regrets, and I'm sure everyone does. The stupid things you do, you regret...if you have any sense, and if you don't regret them, maybe you're stupid."

Of course, there are lots and lots of aforementioned quotes about living life without regrets, and I think that is a noble philosophy, but the reality is that we really do "stupid things" that we regret.

"Regrets... I've had a few...." (a nod to the song made famous by Sinatra)

I admit it; there are things in my life that I wish I could "re-write" or "do-over". It isn't that I don't appreciate the lessons I've learned - I really do appreciate them - but I still wish I could have some re-writes or do-overs and just write or say or do a few things a little bit differently.
Even though I know that pain and difficulties help us grow and become better; I do regret the things I've said or done that have hurt other people. And I wish that sometimes I had said or done things differently to cause myself a little less pain as well...

But I can't. And that's reality... and that's ok. I can look back and see the importance of the things I've said or done that I wish I'd said or done differently..., and I certainly appreciate them. But that doesn't mean that I don't still regret some of them. Some would say regret is too strong a word... perhaps it is. I wish I could do things with more grace at times, and I do wish I could go back and re-write or re-do some things... but I also know that I have learned a lot from my awkward and less-than-ideal comments and actions. I hope that I continue to learn and grow, and never give up trying to improve. I can't erase the past, but I can keep trying to be my best "me". Sometimes that means wanting to re-write and re-do a few things, but also trying to not regret the things I've said and done. Eh. I try.

On Broken Dreams

Ok, so this maybe isn't the most positive post, but I will try to bring it around...

I try to be positive and find the good in everything, but I have really been struggling with some broken dreams. Sometimes I am too busy and distracted by a full life to think about them much, but other times the ache still hits me hard. Sometimes I almost laugh at my previous naivete, but other times I want to curl up and cry... because there are things that I really believed in and thought would happen that just....didn't.

I think most people have suffered from broken dreams. I doubt that there are many people who don't feel some angst and pain from the hopes and dreams that haven't come true. I try not to dwell on the pain, but I still feel like it is important to notice it, and even to honor (in my mind) the dreams that have broken. Because they were a part of me, and they helped to shape who I am now.

I believe that some of my broken dreams can still be fixed and come true in some ways. But others have completely missed their opportunity and it is simply too late. I guess that is what happens as we age... when we are young nearly anything seems possible, but as we get older we realize that time is running out and we need to narrow down our priorities. It doesn't mean that things aren't possible, but it just seems maybe we (or just I?) get more realistic and more selective about what we put our limited energy into.

I wish that I had more time and energy to do all the things I've wanted to do. But there really is only one of me, and unfortunately all the things that I have dreamed about would take more than one of me... that is reality. I think it is a product of growing up that helps us to recognize that, and as much as I'd like to hang on to my childish fantasies, I have been forced to grow up quite a bit over the last few years.... and really, I guess that is good.

But I still feel the ache sometimes, and I think that is good too. Because the dreams were real and beautiful, and I do honor them by remembering and feeling that. And then I honor reality by re-engaging and doing what needs to get done.

Embracing my Inner Introvert

I like people. I really do.
But I am finally more comfortable embracing my inner introvert (as opposed to my outer introvert, which is a little tougher to get a hold on). In doing some research, I found this: http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/07/4-ways-technology-can-enable-your-inner-introvert/242469/ and I feel like I'm in good company.

For years I struggled with my introversion. I have often been called shy; and truthfully, although that feels like a rather derogatory term, it has been the case at times. But more often, I am wary of situations with lots of people because they make me uncomfortable - not because they scare me, but because they simply exhaust me.
Another good article/post about it is this one: http://www.thepowerofintroverts.com/2011/07/05/are-you-shy-introverted-both-or-neither-and-why-does-it-matter/
And another nifty psychological term that has been applied to me is HSP; Highly Sensitive Person http://www.hsperson.com/pages/test.htm. I definitely fit that as well.

The beauty of being human is that we are multidimensional and not static. I can be out-going and have a great time in a group, but I am more comfortable in a quiet setting. I like people - a lot - but I need a lot of time alone. I am pretty sensitive to things, and too much stimulation is just... too much. But I have been afraid that I have missed out on things in the past, and that has pushed me to be more out-going than I am most comfortable with at times. Unfortunately that nearly always backfires on me. To be really true to myself, I need to embrace my introversion and not make apologies for it.

So here I am. I like people, but I am more comfortable being alone. I like conversations, but I prefer writing to speaking. Sure, there are times where I like to be up on stage performing, but more often I like to "perform" in the privacy of my own home (or behind my computer). I admire people who are extroverts, and I do make the effort sometimes to go out of my comfort zone and be out-going... but it is exhausting and I am more comfortable being more introverted. It is fascinating to me that people can be so different, and I am glad that we have such variety. So I am really making a bigger effort to give my little introverted Jen a hug. She deserves it.

On Making Peace with My Competitive Nature

I will begin this by saying that this is a work in progress. I have not yet made peace with my competitive nature. I am, however, working on it....and I am determined to do it well! Because, of course, I can make peace with my competitive nature better than anyone! Ha!

Ok, so I am trying to be silly, but really sometimes it is a bit of a dilemma. I was raised in a pretty competitive family; we were expected to do our best and there was a lot of natural competition within us... and it seemed that nothing was ever quite good enough... unfortunately. So I am not really sure how much of my "nature" is really nature versus nurture. I really am not sure if I am naturally competitive, or if it is just really well learned behavior. But it is definitely there. And sometimes it makes me really uncomfortable.

The dilemma with a "competitive nature" is really one of balance. I think it is healthy to want to strive to do one's best in anything....but it is also important to appreciate where you are right now, in this moment. So sometimes it is a fine line; work towards improvement, but enjoy the present. I try. And mostly I succeed, actually. But there are still moments where I feel a very uncomfortable stirring of competitive jealousy (or envy - even when I look up definitions, I get the two words confused....), and that bothers me. I strive to be a cooperative and caring person, and I don't want to take anything away from anyone else... I just want it for myself as well! And I admit that I am not immune to my competitive stirrings, and sometimes it is difficult for me to make peace with them.

As a parent, I have discovered an even greater challenge; and that is of making peace with my Mama-Bear nature. It absolutely goes together, and honestly is the catalyst for this writing... one of my greatest challenges since I've become a parent is finding the balance between being proud of my kids and recognizing that they aren't going to win lots of awards in this life, and that is actually mostly a good thing because we all need to find our self-worth from inside. For some reason, I have too often looked externally for validation.... and hopefully I can help my kids to not suffer the same fate.

So I am working at making peace with my own competitive nature. I cannot erase my past or my social conditioning or my basic nature, but I can make peace with it. I am not complacent, but hopefully I can keep from beating myself up for not being "better" (and be forgiving of myself when I fall short on that too!). It is important for me to remember that if I compare myself to others there is always someone "better". But truly, there is no one better at being me. And I may want to be a "better" me in various aspects, but even then there is no better "me" right now.

So there you have it. Wish me luck. :)

Meditation on Love

This morning I attended a little mini yoga retreat here in West Lafayette. It was short and sweet and absolutely wonderful. It was exactly what I needed.

The last couple weeks have been challenging for me at work; not because of anything particularly bad, but because I have unexpectedly had to take on a larger load and I have just been a bit over-extended and ultimately depleted. My job is a very peaceful and nurturing job, and although it does return some positive energy, for the most part it involves a lot of giving. By yesterday, my emotional reserves were running on fumes. I desperately needed this retreat, and it really gave me what I needed.

The yoga retreat was titled, "Living With Intention in the New Year", and it involved some Asana, some instruction and discussion, and some meditation. One of the meditations was a guided meditation which focused on Love (and I can't help wanting to write; "a subject near and dear to my heart"....). :)

When we were first guided to think about Love, I almost laughed out loud... because it is something I had written about earlier and had already been thinking about. At the beginning of the retreat, we were guided to write down what our New Year's Resolution, or our Intention for the New Year is. I wrote:

"it is a calm presence, but a forgiving one... to be my best self....whatever that is in the moment...and to LOVE
~ this is my forgiving and loving year~
Everything else will follow"

I have already been meditating on Love this year, but I was able to focus on it better today. I feel incredible peace about it now, and I feel replenished and able to give more freely again. As I said, it was just what I needed.

I believe that Love comes very naturally to me. But it isn't always easy and I have a lot of scars from it as well. Although I give my love freely; it still stings to have it rejected or seemingly used against me. I have found that there are times when I have to find a balance between loving someone and protecting myself from them, and I find that it is easier to be loving within certain boundaries. So it is safer for me to send "loving kindness" out to the world, than to have many face-to-face interactions with people. And while some people may think I am missing out by not being more social; I am learning to love myself just the way I am....and that means not berating myself for hiding in my cave or shell.

So you may not see me out and about very often (and when you do, I may look uncomfortable!). But I hope that my choices in life and work help to bring comfort and peace and love to the world. I hope that I can manage to spread love...whether it is through my hands or my words or even my thoughts. That is my Intention.

"Love is patient and kind"....

December 31st was my 20/18; 20 years before I had "re-met" Bruce, and 18 years before I had married him. I feel very lucky to have him in my life.

Bruce and I met on our college swim team, and I remember the first time I really noticed him. I remember sitting in a circle at pre-season dryland training and we were doing introductions; he was somewhere to my right, and said he was from Madison, Wisconsin. It wasn't that lightening struck me, but he did make an impression. A short time later I was looking forward to seeing him at a swim-team social function...and that is when I found out he was seriously dating another swimmer (and my captain at the time). Oh well, there were many other fish in the sea, and I dated a few of them... There was another time in college the next year when I wasn't sure he was still with his girlfriend that I was asked to go to a thing at his fraternity; I briefly thought perhaps I would be "set-up" with him, but it was with someone else (and was a complete disaster), so again no luck. But other than that, Bruce was a good-looking seemingly nice-guy that I kinda knew, but not very well. And that was fine, because I had plenty to deal with in college....

New Year's Eve 1991: I had recently dyed my hair black and was feeling a bit rebellious (my rebellion is comically tame). I was invited to a party but wasn't all that excited to go; but my friend strongly urged me to attend...emphasizing that Bruce was in town and would be there...and he had broken-up with his girlfriend a couple months before. So I put on a shirt that would emphasize my blue eyes, and nervously went to the party.... and this time there were sparks.

I was living in St. Louis at the time, and Bruce was in Madison. He was still getting-over a long-term relationship, and I was still... me. We tried to take it slow, and the distance helped, but within 8 months I was looking for a job in Madison so I could be closer to him (I succeeded). And crazily enough it was not long after a year that we were engaged (I keep looking back at the dates and am shocked that it was so quick!). Since we "re-met" New Year's Eve, and I am a big-fan of symbolism, we planned a New Year's Eve wedding - December 31, 1993.

A couple years later, Bruce was finishing up his PhD and looking for a job, I was taking classes and trying to figure out what I wanted to do career-wise (other than coach swimming, which I loved), and we somehow decided it was a good time to start a family.... crazy kids that we were. So Bruce got a job at Purdue, and we moved to Indiana when I was 6 months pregnant (we went back up to Madison for his graduation after Lil'Ra was born).

Two kids and 18 years later, we are still married, and that really is a credit to Bruce and his patience and kindness. We did do the Corinthians reading at our wedding, and it really has helped when times got tough; a lot of ups and downs can happen in 18 years. We have been really fortunate in so so many ways.... but we have also worked really hard and I have learned so much about love from him.

It takes more than love to be married, and I suppose there are marriages out there without love (but how sad that seems to me). I am fortunate to be married to a man who has the patience and kindness to deal with my idiosyncrasies and the strength of character to not give-up when things are tough. I have definitely tested that over the years. I am truly thankful to have him in my life, and I do not take that for granted.