Why Write Now?

This blog is a space to candidly sort through the bitter and comical truths experienced as a single, mediocre mother of two brilliant and beautiful babes while I also navigate divorce, dating, dreaming and daring daily.

Since I am dating, and hope to find lasting love, that prospect would naturally change my perspective from being a single mama to something more akin to the Brady Bunch, though 6 seems like a lot, doesn’t it? In any case, I launch this blog with full disclosure that my focus may one day shift. Also, while my divorce is not yet finalized and the custody of my children remains undecided, I have opted to remain anonymous, but that too is expected to change in the not-too-distant future.

Nearly five years ago I had similar aspirations to launch this blog. I got lots of support and encouragement but also some strong push back from a few significant people in my life and I wasn’t confident enough to move forward. At the time my intended focus was a little different then it is today. Then I was looking for a space to sort out feelings related to being a first-time mom and my experience as an adopted child.  Like a lot of first-time parents, I struggled to sort out my new life and role as a mom but with the added complications that come from having been first a foster kid and later adopted.wp-1489868682671.png

I went through years of talk therapy, which was meant to help me become a well-adjusted person, a survivor in spite of it all, but didn’t prepare me for all the confusion motherhood ushered in. I was overwhelmed by the flood of postpartum emotions and secretly paranoid somebody might try to take my baby from me. I figured I could be deemed unfit. So I kept quiet. I suffered. I muddled through those first days, weeks and even months. I played the part of a happy new mom. I said the right things. I read everything I could get my hands on about how to be a good mom and tried to convince others I was too. I felt like a drunk trying to look sober enough to drive but I was sure people could tell I was a faking. I felt lost. I felt confused. I felt isolated and lonely.wp-1489868900209.png

I also felt for the first time deep sorrow for the little girl I once was. Following the birth of my first daughter, I found myself in mourning for my losses, and, yes, was feeling sorry for myself. But I was also in mourning for my biological mother and her losses, which I think I could only truly understand upon becoming a mother myself. I was angry that my adoptive mom didn’t seem to understand what I was going through and I felt guilty for being angry with her to begin with. My anger with her surprised me. And I resented having to explain myself to her and needed someone to help me instead.

So having little time and feeling too afraid to confess my secrets to anyone in particular, I intended to start blogging with the hope that I might begin to explore my feelings and experience honestly and completely. I hoped that by sharing my experience I would find solace for myself and maybe offer it to somebody else as well.

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Now fast forward three plus years, add another child to the mix, factor in a separation resulting from six years in an abusive marriage, and, as you might imagine, my focus has shifted a little. Now I aim to explore all these things and in the process I hope to learn to laugh and love this new life I am living. I also hope to offer support by candidly sharing my experiences with moms struggling in the face of their doubt and daily woes, virtually cheering them on and urging them to persist. I hope I can offer the kind of support I was so desperately seeking in the months and years before I mustered up the courage to separate from my spouse, be the architect of my own destiny and live the life I envisioned for myself and my girls.  What I share will not always be cute, but I promise it will be real, wry and unabashed. I hope at least a few of you will come down the rabbit hole with me, laughing and crying along the way as we forge virtual friendships and develop cautious optimism for the future.


I have always loved to write. I revel in word-play and enjoy the puzzle of constructing a good sentence and complete story. I have always called myself a writer; never mind the fact that I have written absolutely nil in over 5 years beyond catchy Facebook one-liners. But ask anybody who knows me and they’ll say I always have plenty to say. But as I age I find fewer available to listen because, well, we all have problems. I doubt I’m the only one whose hairdresser should get paid much more than she does with all the psychobabble clients spew in 45 minutes. At least I seem to make my girl laugh, so I hope that offers her the added compensation she deserves after 10-odd years of my melodrama. And as much as I need a vacation, this single mama ain’t got money for anything dreamy like that, so a girl’s gotta get creative and writing allows me to escape the confines of daily living at any time.wp-1489868168473.jpg

Growing up an only child, I wrote like I was talking to the sister I didn’t have around. Writing helped me organize my thoughts, it helped me reflect in a tangible way, as if wearing my thoughts and feelings turned words like tattoos. Writing forces me to accept my words, own them, learn to live with them and move on. In turn, I reflect on my experiences, come to see myself, accept myself, make peace with pain and move ahead.

And so in spite of having a plummeting checking account balance, the savings I squirreled away in the months before leaving my abusive spouse nearly absorbed, the custody of my kids undecided, severe anxiety & overall panic setting in, I refuse to put my dreams of writing on the back burner or indefinitely on hold. I have stepped on the nagging voice in my head that replaced that of my ex and continues to question me, my hopes, my confidence, my strength, and, yes, my sanity. In spite of it all, I have resolved to push forward with my goals. I choose to dream and to dare, not live in fear.wp-1489841070291.png

I am currently a full-time single mother of two beautiful babes living in Minneapolis along with our 2 cats and a pet turtle.

When I’m not trying to stay afloat I enjoy reading, exploring nature, mycology & entomology, flora and fauna, cooking, dancing and discovering new music, playing games, especially Scrabble, unsuccessfully doing crosswords, drinking copius amounts of coffee, watching a good documentary, independent or foreign film, gardening, cheese and wine, daydreaming about the future and hopes to travel more beyond my imagination, both internationally and right here at home in the U.S..

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