Words are hard.

I am not the same person I was a year ago. Even in the past six months I have changed. True there are some universal truths about ourselves that remain consistent, but they do not always take the same level of importance they once did. I would love to say that as time goes on we know ourselves better and it becomes easier to describe who we are. In some ways that may be true, but from my experience it becomes more difficult to simplify as we continue to move forward.

When I have to write out a general bio I freeze. I will sit staring at a blinking cursor praying that it will magically read my mind and condense my jumble of thoughts into a concise, beautifully worded description. In reality it remains blank until I give up, type a few sentences and hoping whatever I come up with resembles me in any form.

Sometimes I wish I could reach out to different people from various areas of my life, ask them to write a description of me and merge them into one simple bio. But, I have a funny feeling this idea is much better in theory over practice. Beyond and difficulty of merging so many perspectives, I am not sure I actually want to hear what some people think of me. At the end of the day we know who we are and should not base ourselves on what others expect from us.

Maybe at some point in my life the blinking cursor asking me to write a short description of myself will be less terrifying, but right now all I can do is the best I can to put myself into words.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

Yet I forge forward.

Sometimes I sit and stare at the blinking cursor hoping that the perfect words will appear. A combination of letters that make everything that has happened and hurt me make sense. I know that a simple phrase is not enough, even a whole library would not even touch all the unanswered questions I have.

The further out I get from that awful day the more I understand that I do not have to have answers. Honestly, for some of my questions what I may find out might hurt more than not knowing. There are still days that all I can think about is the hurt, but more and more are good days that I have hope. I have no clue what path my life will take me down. If I could I would tell you that I was not worried or scared at all. The truth is not knowing is terrifying, yet I forge forward, going back is not an option.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

My safe place.

When I started writing this blog, I did not know what it would turn into. Honestly, I am still not sure I know. Blogging combines two things I am not very good at, keeping a journal and being open about my feelings in an articulate way. Usually I feel like I ramble through my emotions without reason. It also means all my hurt and pain can never be hidden because it will always be a search engine away.

My initial thought process in starting to pour myself into this place was for me to force myself to be honest and open about what I am going through. Not only for myself – but to show my family and friends how I am doing. There is nothing worse than being asked over and over how you are doing by people who care. It is not that I don’t want to tell them, but the truth is that it hurts to recount everything time and time again. Even good things hurt sometimes.

Another reason I write is for others. I am not the first, only or last person to have a relationship end tragically. I usually do not write specifically for the benefit of others. I try to be honest about everything in hopes that I can say something that will open up a new thought process for someone else in pain. My theory is that if people take the time to read my posts they either care about me or can relate to the emotions I am experiencing.

I do not know when this blog will end, maybe it never will. For now it is my safe place to share and record my recovery. I still have a long way to go, but I know when I get there it will be a beautiful place. For now I will keep writing.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

Awfully short to be a high jumper.

Today my high school is hosting its biggest track meet of the year, the Hornell Invitational. When I was in school is was much larger than it is now. Every time I walk out on the track I see it for what it used to be. Schools from all over came to run on what used to be the fastest track around.

I was a high jumper, I say that with a laugh because I am shorter than your average high jumper. This fact was pointed out to me at the Invitational my senior year by an opposing coach. His exact words were ” you’re awful short to be a high jumper.” At this point of the competition there were only three jumpers left, I am sure he was trying to psych me out. Let me tell you, the eight words he said had every impact he wanted. I missed at that height and his athlete got second.

Not only did those words throw me off-balance for that meet, but for the rest of the season and into college. When I started college I had not planned on continuing in athletics, but I am thankful I did. I will never forget one of the first few weeks of my freshman year sitting in the office of the my future coach while he convinced me to join the team. How could I have known then he would help me prove to myself that I was not too short to jump high.

My first track meet in college did not go much better than my last few in high school, but I did not give up and for some reason neither did my coach. By the end of my first indoor season I was stronger and more constant than ever. At the end of the season I got second place at the NCCAA track meet earning my first of three All Americans. I was still “awfully short to be a high jumper”, but somehow the sting of those words was lost. Many times in meets I was looked down on (literally) by other jumpers, than they saw me fly.

Words are dangerous things, we often take their meaning for granted and forget how others will interpret them. That coach did not say anything I did not already know, but hearing it said out loud and in that way was painful. On this end of the story I can say with pride “I was awfully short to be a high jumper” because now I can add to the end “but look at all I did inspite of it”.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.