…the haven retreat…

…was a bit of heaven on earth…


My soul was filled.

My burden lifted.

My life forever changed.


I have the desire to remember every detail:

…the smiles on the faces of my friends
     …their laughter that brought light to my soul
         …my intense heartbreak at their stories
             …the lifelong connection

…the learning and knowledge I received
    …the details about the trauma brain
         …the tools of change that were presented
              …the strength in knowing I can

…the beauty, both inside and out
    …the sound of the foyer fountain
        …the glare of the white snow
            …the peace that every wall and window provided


I asked myself 3 questions on my flight home:
What I Learned?
What I Felt?
What to Share?

These are my rapid-fire, heart felt answers…


I Learned:
• that I am truly worthy of healing
• that I have the strength to change my neuropathways and give goodness a voice
• that I can look for the peace and safety in the walls of the temple. I can find safe shelter there
• of the ability to teach my brain and body to slow down and connect
• that I can learn and practice new tools
• that knowing I need to do more work is ok and will lead to healthy healing
• that sharing is caring
• about the power of inner peace, what that looks like and what that sounds like from the examples of The Haven Retreat Staff Members. They were walking angels.
• that mountains are climbed step by step and no step is too small
• I am worth of sharing my story
• I deserve a safe sisterhood
• that I deserve to feel strong and empowered
• to be grateful for the hard
• to be brave in my gratitude


I Felt:
• the healing power of God
• like I was surrounded by sacred, holy walls that were created specifically for safety and healing
• I have finally given myself permission to bring my body and spirit together to heal
• loved and cherished and cared for
• peace in my soul
• true gratitude for what my story has taught me
• spiritual and soul-esc strength
• the shackles of Shame lifted
• honored to be a survivor
• guided by myself and by God
• heard and understood
• accepted where I am today
• gratitude for each wall sconce, art piece, stair, chair, pillow, window sill -- every solid piece of home in which we participated in The Haven Retreat



I Can Share:
• the power of mindfulness
• the tools of grounding to help with anxiety
• the power of connection and engage in it's healing power
• empowerment
• my love with others
• my light and healing tools
• the feeling of peace


There is more, so much more -- but I give myself permission to add onto this list at any moment of any day.

One of the final messages I received was this:

What a miracle these four days were for me.

I have been changed for good.


If your life story includes the devastating experience of childhood sexual abuse, The Haven Retreat would be a great place to either begin or continue your journey to personal healing. 

You can find more information about this incredible opportunity at: https://youniquefoundation.org/the-haven-retreat/

My body is…

…beautiful and I'm trying really hard to feel that in my soul.

It's not working very well.

And there is a gosh darn WAR waging in my spinning head.

I can tell myself "My body is beautiful" over and over and over and believe it for half a minute.

I can even consciously choose to not diet or "watch what I eat" or count calories or anything that would even RESEMBLE a diet.

I can make a choice and KNOW that setting a firm boundary with myself about no diet is the right thing for me.

I believe food is my friend.

I might even believe that food is for my good.

Yet……

As I scroll through facebook, I scroll slower on random diet ads.
I looked up Noom.
I almost clicked on a Keto Pill.
I pondered looking up The South Beach Diet because that is what my Dad's cardiologist recommended.
I recently considered a fast.

WHY!?!?!?!?!? Why can't I stop the searching and wondering and wishing and glancing and what if-ing?

You might think the above "why" is a loud primal scream that is empowering and full of determination and gosh darn "just stop it already" grit.

But really -- that "why" is over flowing with silent tears.  Over flowing.

My head decides and then spins out. Regroups and then veers off. Commits then get lost in a panic.

Maybe the answer lies somewhere in the origin story.

Maybe the answer lies somewhere in the distorted truths I believe.

Both sound scary. Both sound hard. Both look dark and stormy.

I'm going to try both -- I asked God and he directed me here -- I'm going to give him a shot.

******
My first memory of "you have to change your body" or "your body is not ok like it is" or "you've got to lose weight" is when I was 11 and went on my first diet or at least was completely aware that there were now food restrictions for me. Can't eat that, don't eat this, that's too much, choose something else, and that's not for you.

I'll stop right here and say four things:
Yes, this was under my parents direction.
No, it wasn't ok. Not ok at all. Still not ok.
Yes, they were doing the best they knew how.
There is no judgement here, only facts -- don't get them confused.

And from that moment that I was 11 -- every single morsel of food has been debated in my head.

Will it be too much? Is it the right thing? Should I choose differently? I'm sure this isn't the right choice. Is THIS on the diet? Is THAT on the diet? Will this morsel destroy some delicate balance in my body and DESTROY any efforts to shed weight. (Huh -- "delicate balance," I'm going to have to come back to this)  This food is definitely BAD for me. This food will hurt me. This food will cause destruction to my body's natural state. You'll pay for that bite. You've promised yourself. You're going to fail if you choose wrong. You'll never win.

I spend a lot of my eating time trying to drown out that noise. Or sometimes I think I try to smother it with the food I'm eating. I think this is where the WAR comes into play. There is a literal, internal fight.


Going back to age 11. I watched myself and my parents go on and go off of diet after diet after diet after diet. Food was restricted. Placed in timeout. Nutrition was confused with diet -- meaning nutritious foods were only diet foods and diet foods were the only nutritious foods.

I don't even I think I know what nutrition is or really how it could possibly be a positive. Aren't nutritionists just fancy taskmasters that control and restrict your food choices. This 49 year old thinks so.

And the dieting -- it had to be perfect. It was either perfection or failure.


Truth - no 11 year old should be put on a diet. Ever. Ever.

Or 13 year old, or 18 year old, or about to be married year old.


Distorted truth - this body I was sent here with is not ok like it is. This body is weak and broken and won't be able to naturally exist.

Confusing truth - I wanted to be just like my Grandma who I'm sure never dieted a day in her life and died being VERY mad that she couldn't have cake when she wanted. We should have just let her have cake!!

My Grandma cooked, served, created, worked, loved, ate potatoes, and shopped. She had a closet full of beautiful clothes and a floor full of shoes. She had a stash of Oreos, cans and cans of Vienna Sausages, and a freezer full of ice cream and frozen Snickers. She had Trix in the cupboard and homegrown tomatoes on the counter. She read, quilted, had parties, visited friends. She traveled all over the world, and had such great, great adventures. Her body did all that. Her body was amazing and absolutely beautiful.

The confusion comes when a little girl wants to do all those things, but is taught that she has to have the right kind of body for that, or that her size will restrict her enjoyment of life. Grandma didn't believe that. Grandma's size never held her back. That is confusing.


This origin story is sad. It really is sad. Sad and scary. If I could go back, I'd let that 11 year old choose for herself what her body needed. She was smart, very smart. She would have figured it out. She would have eaten the food that spoke to her soul. She would have learned. She would have tried it out. She would have been successful.

She was in trauma. She was just trying to survive. So much added pressure of diets, food restrictions, do's and don'ts, good food verses bad food, and perfection/failure.

The distorted truths stuck. Like glue. They laid claim on her soul and they are relentless in their need to occupy.

The truth I want to know in every cell: My body is beautiful exactly like it is. Exactly like it is.

I might be able to see that truth in the distance or at least shadows of it. It calls to me, beckons, but I can't seem to find my way to it. It slips in and out of my view like a vision catching on the wind and rising until it's out of sight.

If I make a place for it in my soul, can I keep it? Can that truth rest here with me?

My body is beautiful.

My heart is open.

Please let it stay.

…I VOTED!…

…and I'm very glad I can.

I’m sad to admit that this was the first year I’ve ever done serious candidate research. I know, I know, stone me later. I have repented and will NOT let another election go by where I don’t research and try to find out what these candidates, who are supposedly representing me, feel and believe on the issues that I feel are important. 

I was not impressed with the actual LACK of information I could find. I spent 8 hours digging through the clutter of the webpages and rhetoric and it was disappointing and sad. I should have spent more time. I didn’t know I NEEDED to spend more time. The system is flawed. As inspiring as it is, and as grateful as I am for it, it is flawed and it doesn’t have to be.

So let me pen an open letter to all political candidates or future candidates.

Dear “Trying to get my Vote”,

• As your constituent or future constituent it should be very easy for me to type in your name, click on your campaign website and know ALL THE THINGS. Most of you incumbents gave me nothing, no real thoughts on the issues, and I feel like you just assumed I was going to vote for you. No old white dude, not so. To add to the webpage disgust I experienced, a lot of your webspace was filled with your opponents thoughts. Bad form, very bad form.

• I also hesitate to read your website if it has a glaring “THEY ARE WRONG” quote and photo of your opposition as the first thing I see. What are you trying to accomplish? It just feels so petty and fueled by ignorance. Bad form again.

• I don’t watch your television ads, especially if they are filled with yelly quotes about your opponent or if they are 90% “evil is here” black & white photos rolling by with slew of “He said/She said” quotes. Save your money and use it on your website to give me your thoughts. See previous TWO bullet points.

• If all of your opinions on the issues use the same polarizing phrases as every other candidate in your party - I’ll pass. I’ll pass by so far, that I won’t even look your direction. You’ve lost me to your ridiculous rhetoric. I really want to know what YOU think. Give me your personal heartfelt opinions. I already know what your party thinks and as a whole, I don’t like any of my options at the moment, so give me something MORE than their repetitive phrases. Use your smarts I’m supposedly electing you for.

• For Example: Don’t just say BUILD A WALL (and yes you ARE yelling it too much, way, way too much) or IMMIGRATION REFORM (yes, you seem to yell that too, like I can’t hear you or that your loudness will make it more important to me), if you are not going to back it up with reasons WHY you think that both of those are important issues and again, I’m begging you to use your brain and your words. Why will a wall help in the long run? Can you give me facts that support your claim that it’s necessary. Immigration reform is more than a wall, more than sending troops to the border, more than 5,000 asylum seekers. It IS important and I want to to give me facts and figures and have a conversation where you are willing to hear other points of view and possibly talk about considering other solutions.

• STOP constantly voting party lines as though you have no opinion and as though you have no backbone. It just make you look weak and brainless. We are more diverse than strictly two parties. Let me repeat. We are more diverse than strictly two parties.

• I’m calling these two OUT!! Martha and Kyrsten your cat fighting was embarrassing, repulsive, and completely uncalled for. If there had been a plausible write in candidate, they would have got my vote. You can be strong-willed and powerful women who are good at what you do without name calling and back stabbing and doing ALL THE THINGS we teach our little girls and little boys not to do. STOP IT. Stop trying to make how you handled this election look empowering or that you are on the good side of feminism or women’s rights. I am barely giving you a second look for the next election, so do something kind and compassionate and try to show me who you really are.

• Each of you had better consider Campaign Reform. I do not know enough about Clean Elections Contributions or what that really means, but I want to know. And I want you to STOP GETTING PAID for your political votes. I don’t know what you call this, but I call it UNAMERICAN. Stop being funded by big corporations that give you access and cutbacks and whatever else they slide to you under the table. Both sides do this and It’s awful and dishonest.

• I was more impressed by Johnny Martin’s homemade videos where he shared his personal view about the issues, than I was of anything else I saw on any other candidates website. Be more like Johnny.

I voted. I’m very thankful that I live in a country that will allow that privilege. 

I voted. I’m sad that it was so hard to find the information that was needed.

I voted. I chose new-comers and diversity and that felt right and good.

…I will never…

…forget…

September 11, 2001 was a hard day. Honestly it feels like everyday has been harder after that day. Hard in a way that is wasteful and time consuming. 

Like the fact that some have to get a new AZ drivers license because AZ can’t pull their shizzz together with some federal regulation changes.

I have to measure the ounces of liquids as I travel, personal connections are lost as we have to wait for flights alone, and the worst of all — everyone is considered the enemy.

I’ll do it  -- I'll make the changes — but I’m going to whine about it for a minute — because it is harder than it was. So much harder. 


Come From Away is a beautiful musical (which I hope to see someday) that depicts the experiences of a small town in Newfoundland - Gander - a town that was turned upside down as they worked together to take care of airline passengers that were stranded there.

I "rolling tears down my face" sobbed through my first listen of the soundtrack — and I still cry at least once every time I listen. Today it was more tears than normal -- I listened differently. I learn something new about myself every single time.

I love this musical with my whole soul. It brings light and hope to the weighty HARD that now fills our lives after that day, that event, that tragedy. 

I couldn’t think of a better way to share my thoughts about today (and life) than to use a few of the songs from Come From Away. If you get a chance - listen to it - really listen.


Welcome to the Rock
In this song they chant “I am an islander” — and they are so proud of their community and their connection to one another. That righteous kind of pride that builds each other up -- helps them to live and love in a better way.

What am I? 

I am a proud American, a patriot, a defender of the flag. Do you know that about me? Have I shared my love for the Founding Fathers? My love of my time spent surrounded by members of the military? My deep respect for those men and women AND their families who sacrifice so much. So, so much. If not, I have failed indeed.

When else am I? I am a woman. I am a mother. I am a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a helper. Do I wear these hats alone? In solitude and with a martyr’s heart? Or do I invite others in, share my true self, open my heart to the hard task of being vulnerable? Do I breathe in the goodness that is everywhere and do I walk with arms open wide to embrace our differences and learn from each other?

I want to be like those islanders with their proud hearts bursting and their arms open to welcome and learn from others. I am an islander!


38 Planes
200-300 people on each plane with individual needs and fear the size of the whole world. 9,000 mouths to feed and hearts to heal. 

We can’t even figure out how to feed, house and heal the 1000’s of homeless on our streets - what is our problem? We can’t get families back into their homes after natural disasters - because of so much protocol and damn red tape. How did they do it?

This SCREAMS overwhelm to me. 

Overwhelm either shuts me down and I live in the world of “I’m not enough” OR I turn on the “martyr mania” = I’ve got this damnit!!! MOVE ASIDE!!! I think that is probably true for most of us — though some of you probably don’t swear. 

What if I could be more like Gander - one bus, one bed, one meal, one heart at a time. Breathing and moving forward and loving and learning in the process.

If I could do that — I could handle 38 planes — or whatever life put in my path. If WE could do that we could feed and house and heal those that need our help. 


Blankets and Bedding
They gathered, they sacrificed and they were glad to do it. Their humility is beautiful.

When I see the photos from 9/11 my heart hurts again. I want to wrap up the fire fighters, the police, those covered with dust with “blankets and bedding” — could it be that simple? When we see hurt and pain couldn’t we use our hearts and arms for blankets and bedding for those that suffer?

Often instead of gathering within my world and using the things (both outside and inside=stuff and feelings) that I already have — I tend to solve the problems that don’t exist, reinvent, make it more than it needs to be, secretly hope for a moment of glory. Then I miss out on the truth, I overlook the anchors, I lose focus on what’s really important.

Could it be as simple as blankets and bedding? I'm going to find that kind of humility.


28 Hours/Wherever We Are
They were stuck on a plane and lost in the middle of nowhere and had very little real information. 

I felt stuck on that day — I think all of the world did. Not brave enough to move, too scared to get caught in more crossfire, and our hearts were hurting and grieving for those lost and for those who were now gone.

Wherever we were, we were glued to our TV’s. The kids got out early from school, Phillip came home early from work - whereever we were — we stopped, held our breath — and prayed.

I wished we could have gathered together somehow. Been able to use the strength and support of each other instead of feeling lost and alone. 

Wherever we are — there can be connection and we need connection to be whole — we just do.


Darkness and Trees
I can not imagine being herded to buses with complete strangers in a foreign country in the dark. In the pitch black darkness. 

It makes me panic just thinking about it. 

Darkness is real. It’s consuming. It feels like drowning — in deep black depthless darkness.

On that day I felt that darkness. What’s next? Will it effect me? My children? My livelihood? My ability to find joy? Will there be war? Will it be here? Who else will die? Is there more coming?

I somehow found light. 

I found light in the hundreds of workers digging through the rubble. In the New Yorkers covered with dust helping each other up off the ground. In the willingness of strangers to gather and connect. In the peace that I knew would come.

I reflect on finding light in my own darkness. I have people who help me dig through my rubble — and I’m so grateful. I have friends who willingly pick me up off the ground — I couldn’t do it without them. And most importantly I am learning to make and use the connections in my life. 

We need each other to keep us out of the darkness and we need each other for light. 

Need. 


On the Bus
I absolutely LOVE how they portrayed the simple ways we can connect with ANYONE. We can learn so, so much from each other. 

What would the world be like if we looked for our differences and were honored to be in the presence of those who don’t think or act like us. 

It would be beautiful. So much more life and learning, peace and hope. 

It would be so beautiful — it would “lead us out of the night...”


Costume Party
Wearing the clothes of strangers, sleeping by hundreds of people you don’t know, eating food you are unfamiliar with, pretending you are ok — that sounds both emotionally and physically exhausting -- like a messed up costume party.

Everything that was safe and familiar had changed -- the world was different -- I was different.

Once again, I wish we could have gathered together to share strength. Why didn't we? Were we too wrapped up in ourselves? Did we not know where to start? Were we afraid of being different?

Isolation is not the answer - never was and never will be.


Prayer
There were so many different beliefs and believers -- they shared and found comfort in those beliefs. They learned very quickly the necessity of acceptance, the desperate desire for peace and understanding -- they turned hopeless into hope.

Why are we so quick to fear those that believe differently? Do we think they have an infectious disease? It's completely ridiculous our world is filled with Westboro Baptists, Radical Islam, KKK, churches who openly teach false truths about other congregations -- I don't understand why.

Acceptance is easy. Acceptance is fueled by love and light. Acceptance is how we learn.

Turn off the hate. Turn off the fear. Turn on the light. Turn on acceptance.


Me and the Sky
What passion, what determination -- what fear, what loss. How dare they!!!

Why did they have to break they sky? Who said that was ok? How dare they!

Who gave them permission to break families, friends, coworkers? How dare they!


I hate it when something I love gets tainted. When someone purposely breaks my path to joy -- when they mock and jeer at something that I hold dear. How dare they!

Ok world -- keep your misery and ugliness and disrespect to yourself. I dare you to stop and find your own small moment of joy. Joy is so much better. So much.


Stop the World
They took a moment, a picture, into their hearts -- deep in -- and they wanted it to last forever. They TOOK the time to make the moment, to take the picture, to stop the hustle and bustle and write it deep in their hearts.

On September 11, 2001 -- we were forced to stop, forced to take a picture, forced to write pain and grief on our hearts.

We have forgot. We move too fast, we know too much, we are in a race going 10,000 miles per hour.

Today -- we miss so many moments, so many pictures, so much time is wasted not being present, not being there in the space to take the moment, the picture, the heart story.

Stop the world. Take a moment, a picture a heart story. 

Breathe.


Something's Missing
They reflect on their unique experiences as they return to their lives and the changes and the missing pieces. The grief, the turmoil -- picking up their lives, moving on. Something's missing.

I didn't know the Twin Towers as a landmark. I didn't know their perceived strength, their stalwart towers in the sky. I had never been to New York.

I didn't know the homes that were lost, the business crushed, the people bloodied and bruised.

They did. New Yorkers did. They are a landmark. They are strong. They are stalwart.

They rebuilt their homes, their families, their bodies. They fought the fight and they have won.

New York is AMAZING. I love the chaos that fills the air on the gridded streets, between the sun covering buildings, on the miles and miles of pavement. It's moving, it's evolving -- maybe it's better than before.

They remember. They never forget that something's missing.


10 Years Later
This is my favorite part of this story. Hope, light, determination, growth, learning, connection, peace, friends, family, newness, compassion, empathy, joy, reflection -- but most of all love.

What will my life look like in 10 years? 

How will I take what I learned on that hard, hard day and change my patterns, be different, embrace messy, speak my truth.

Maybe that could be MY favorite part of the story.

Hope, light, determination, growth, learning, connection, peace, friends, family, newness, compassion, empathy, joy, reflection -- but most of all love.

...a few of my...

...favorite things...

Today is my 49th Birthday (half-way to 98 - as my children say).

I’ve spent a good part of this year learning to use my agency to actually make choices instead of living in a world of constant expectations and obligations. It’s a challenge and I’ve had to ask myself hard questions. One of those questions is “What DO you like, Mary?” — not what are you supposed to like or expected to like or assumed to like - “What DO I like?

I like...

— no, there won’t be 49 - goodness - but I’m also long winded... so... take that into consideration — I’ll go for my current top 10ish... in completely random order...


Music
If you know anything about me — this is a no-brainer — but I’ll be a little more specific.
• Musicals are my favorite genre - they just are. I want to spend more time this year to discover lost (to me) musical gems.
• I really like vocal jazz. I love the complexities in both the chords and the rhythms. Manhattan Transfer’s ‘Birdland’ could play over and over again and I’d never tire of it.
• I’m very picky about Hymn arrangements — and I think the LDS music culture could learn a few things from their Christian friends about how to worship through music. My dream is to do any Dan Forrest or Craig Courtney song in a Stake Conference or church something and let the congregation feel the goodness their music brings.


Clocks
• I like to know the time by looking up from anywhere in my house.
• I don’t buy ugly crappy $5 clocks. Function can also be artsy and beautiful.
• The bigger the better.
• My mind literally translates digital clock time to its analog visual representation. Every. Single. Time. (pun intended) 😁


Shoes
• I like shoes. I need more shoes. I really, really need more shoes.
• Shoes can be sparkly. Shoes can be functional. Shoes can have color. Shoes can have texture. Shoes can be just for fun.
• My square feet are hard to fit into shoes — but I’m going to keep trying and buying and wearing because — I REALLY LIKE SHOES!!


Travel
• I like to get in the car and go. I like to not have strict plans.
• I like to stop and explore and choose and change my mind.
• I like to get my hotel 20 mins out from our destination — because I can.
• I like to pack light and not plan for 1,000 contingencies.
• I really love the wide open spaces of the West and the many different geological wonders.
• I want to explore the green beauty of the Pacific NW.
• I want to bask in the history of the East Coast.


Nails and Feet
• I have been getting my nails on my hands done for 29 years and I have NO intention of stopping anytime soon. It is one of my favorite self-care moments and I have finally conquered the destructive guilt I felt every time. Not anymore — I’m going to bask in the glory of colored fingernails.
• Pedicures are the best things ever!! In my dream world, they would happen every 3 weeks. I am also putting this on my self-care list — which should really be my “YOU GO GIRL!!” list. #loudfingersnap


Therapy & “...as thyself”
• Everyone needs it. That’s really the bottom line. If you think you don’t — you do. You really do.
• Take the time to find a therapist that speaks your language and then take the time to really learn about yourself — because you can only change yourself.
• And in that time of self-discovery - learn to love yourself. It’s hard. It’s brutal. It’s painful. It is completely necessary.
• Someday soon I’m going to do a blog post on “love thy neighbor — AS THYSELF” — because I think we gloss over that part entirely too much — and it’s really not ok.


Barry Manilow & Michael Jackson
• ha ha ha ha ha -- I am completely serious though. I LOVE them both in so many different ways!
• I can sing along to 90% of Barry and I love to watch 90% of Michael.
• I love the cheesy calmness of Barry and I love the simple entertainment of Michael.
• I'm going to own this love and I won't back down.


So You Think You Can Dance & Bachelor in Paradise (shhhhhhhhh)
• The first show is my great summer love -- I think dancing is the most beautiful magical thing.
• I love to watch their passion and the story-telling.
• I love how they can make the music sing with the movement of their bodies.
• I love the talent of choreographers that can take something that they can only see in their head and make it translate through two practical strangers and it becomes BEAUTIFUL MAGIC.
• The second show is my great summer secret -- it's the absolute worst -- and I love the "non-scripted" entertainment of it all. The video and music editors should get ALL THE AWARDS -- they make it funny and the best cheesy show of the entire Bachelor Nation.


Connection
• I think the world survives on connection.
• I think it would thrive with more connection.
• True connection is judgement free.
• Healthy connection starts with empathy.
• Any connection requires vulnerability.
• Safe connection will probably have boundaries.
• Deep connection takes effort.
• Connection is what God is telling us to do -- love each other, learn from and about each other, be grateful for our differences, be connected to one another and our lives will be full and we will be able to find ways to love and heal one another.


... and these are a few of my favorite things.

And you are WELCOME if the song is now stuck in your head! he he

…if i %*$(@#%& hear…

…one more person say…

1) "They should be happy with the 20%."

2) "They are abandoning my child."

3) "They knew what it was they were getting into."

4) "They should find a new job."

My out loud and in their face reply to WHOMEVER makes another $%^&!* statement of complete ignorance WILL be…


1) Please take a moment, or 10, and use your ability to read to actually educate yourself about the "20%".
-- it's been promised before - government lies
-- Dear AZ State Government -- you have violated my trust, I'm not going to believe you now.
-- it's not the only dog in the fight.
-- EDUCATE YOURSELF -- the information is out there -- find it.


2) Get over yourself. 
-- school is not free childcare. 
-- YOU are responsible for your child's well being. 
-- again, use your brain -- educate yourself -- figure out a solution for your family. You can do it.
-- and… this argument/statement doesn't make any sense -- really -- it's loud eye roll worthy.


3) Did they? Did they really?
-- I would bet that the pay scale new teachers were presented with at the time they signed their contract was filled with hope and possibilities and numbers that their districts were crossing their fingers would -- if they held their breath -- come to pass.
-- And what if teachers did know? How does that negate the fact that they have not received what they were promised? Or are not paid a fair wage?!
-- they have to use their own funds for @$#%&*! pencils!! Did they know they would have to do that? I have used MY FUNDS for my daughter/s classroom (she is a teacher) -- yes I was willing and financially able -- but why should I have to?!?! 
-- My husband's job would NEVER require him to purchase any equipment that was needed to do his job or the job of any of his co-workers.
-- extra time teachers spend finishing their job outside of work hours is outrageous!! They do not receive extra pay. 
-- My husband might be on call after hours for a week, but he is PAID EXTRA for his time.


4) THEY ARE!!
-- and it's hurting the students. Students need structure. Students need stability. There are 2,000 open teaching positions in Arizona that are being filled by temporary substitutes. Substitutes have their place in the education system, but it is not fair to them NOR the students that the subs are being thrown into disrupted classrooms with no resources, no mentors and are required to know and do the same as certified teachers. WHAT?! Why is that even a thing? The subs are absolutely doing their best -- but it still doesn't make it ok.
-- qualified, excellent, passionate teachers are leaving Arizona -- and it's not because of our delightful desert winters. We need them to stay in our communities and build safe places for learning. We need their passion and love to sustain and increase communities and families. We need them to teach our children!!


And about the Walk-out that have the whiners out in freakin' droves…… (where is my loud eye roll emoji when I need it?!?!?!)

To the whiners -- shut the $&*@#^ up and educate yourself.

To the Teachers -- GO. FIGHT. WIN.

I am with you. I am on your side. I will help you fight your battle. GO. FIGHT. WIN.


Yes -- this is hard and messy and probably inconvenient. OK so is giving birth and raising children -- but yet -- HERE. WE. ARE. 



My teacher friend reminded me that this MOVEMENT looks like Newsies the Musical!!  (which is my fav and a MASTERPIECE!! I dare you to fight me on that!!) And yeah, it was messy, and yeah people got hurt, and yeah it's going to be loud!!

But when do we get to have a voice? When do we get to stand on the side of right?

NOW -- we get to have a voice NOW.

NOW -- we get to stand up for right NOW.


To the teachers and the parents supporting teachers and the students supporting teachers:

SEIZE THE #@!#%#* DAY!!

AND THE WORLD WILL $@^#* KNOW!!

CARRY THE %#$!!&% BANNER!!!

WATCH WHAT !@$%&* HAPPENS!!

MARY'S #$%%^&*^% HERE!!

ONCE AND FOR $%&$!!* ALL!!!!

And yes -- I visualize it all ending with a pose of papes (textbooks) in the @#$^& air -- fists (holding brand new pencils) pounding the sky and voices as LOUD AS THUNDER!!!



P.S. And you better believe my head was saying every single !#$^&* with zero shame -- I just chose to spare you. You are welcome.

…me too…

I typed that today -- for the first time -- where others could see.

I think I added a !%^&* before it.

If I didn't -- I should have -- I wanted to -- it needs to be there.

!%^&$# ME TOO!!!

That feels better.


There is an internal struggle -- these 1in 4* women** have that can't really be described in a clear-cut singular emotion.

I think we try for years to pinpoint it -- is it rage? is it basic anger? is it disgust? is it sadness? is it despondent? is it grief? is it despair?

It's none of those specifically, but all of those combined.

All of the time.


Also throw in the shame, distrust, lack of self-worth, confusion, hurt, pain, lack of peace, anxiety, depression -- again, not just one of those -- but ALL of those.

All of the time.

It's heavy. So heavy. Almost too heavy.

It weighs you down, it gets dragged behind you.

Everyday. All day. Relentless. Ever present.


The heavy bogs up the joy, laughter, peace, hope, love and life.

It fills the empty spaces with doubt, confusion, worry, panic, fear.

It consumes -- like a black hole -- sucking the very life out of the universe, out of space.

Out of your soul.


But do you know what the WORST part is --- the HAREST part --- the part that OVERWHELMS you?


silence


















I have to do something about the silence.

Shout it from the rooftops? Create a billboard? Rent a blimp? Hire a sky-wirter? Get a tatoo?

Are any of those enough? It doesn't feel like it. It feels hopeless -- like nothing will be enough.


Huh -- a thought just came to me… literally just popped into my head as I was typing…


…my voice…


…my voice can break the silence…


…deep breath…


I was sexually abused from the ages of 6 years old to 11 years old by cousins that lived next door to me. A male cousin, 2 female cousins and the dad of those cousins.

I was not alowed to talk about it to anyone. I tried my best to be brave. I tried to protect my younger sisters, but was unsuccessful.

I was told to love them anyway because they were family -- and you should love and trust family.

I am a surviver of childhood sexual abuse.

My voice will break the silence…

…and so can yours…

*it's probably more like 1 in 2 -- let's be real
**just assume there are men in this group too, but I only know a woman's point of view, so I'm going to speak about them