open.

i'm, obviously, done with being silent. finished with trying to protect someone who deserves no protecting. ready to be honest. and open. and to speak truth. but not all at once. anyway, thank you for letting me be real. in my last post. and in general.

i know i'll probably piss off a few people. people who never believed me anyway. but, do you know what? i don't care.

it's more important to shine a light on things with dusty corners filled with secrets begging for a broom.

i'm ready to be the broom.

for my sake. and for the sake of other women who have not had the strength to leave. or for those who have, but haven't made peace with their decision yet.

so yeah, i'm an open book.

the current page is turned to the chapter: every weekend should be a three day weekend.

we'll see what chapter we land on next.

have a happy fourth.

-PG

Beautiful things.

I didn’t always know that I deserved to feel safe. To have an opinion without it being torn down. To say things in public without someone wondering why I didn’t run it by them first. To dress however I felt comfortable dressing. To watch whatever I felt comfortable watching. To be me. Fair-skinned and freckled. Artsy and emotional. A giver to my core. A lover of all things literature and poetry and words and music and melody. A child of God. A God who loved me just the same if I was wearing a turtleneck or a semi-deep V-neck. A God, who probably, wept for me. During nights when I felt trapped. Alone. Scared. Victimized. Like my life was drifting out of control. Like maybe, if I just cleaned the kitchen better next time or did a better job mowing the lawn, the emptiness would disappear. The ridicule. The emotional distance. The emotional smothering. The wanting me to change. To be someone else.

See, I didn’t always know that a man didn’t have to command authority over me if he didn't deserve to. And I didn’t know I could leave. Until, I did.

And I didn't realize how much God could heal. Until He did.

Four years later, I know. And my life is becoming a beautiful thing.

All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

and, scene.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

-Marianne Williamson

one-a-day.

i've been taking a photo of myself every day when i get to work in the morning with photobooth. i think it's interesting to see how tired i look on some days and how i awake i look on others. for some reason, i always look younger, better-rested and more alert on friday mornings.

this routine also helps me to not repeat the same outfit within a two-week window.

does that make me neurotic? the outfit thing?

this photo was on a monday. i needed extra coffee.

reclaiming.

i started eating meat again. slowly. paris taught me that i could. that i should. that my body might need it - in moderation.

but healthy meat. organic. no antibiotics. free of extra chemicals and supplements to make it anything other than how god intended for it to be. and not for every meal. but a bit of actual protein every day. maybe an egg. maybe some cheese. maybe a couple of fork-fulls of b's pulled pork. i'm feeling nourished.

we also reclaimed some windows today. to be re-purposed later. it's a surprise what they are for. but i think you will like it.

along with some other updates that i can tell you soon. not now. but soon.

but in the meantime. why am i still getting zits at 31.5 years old?

today.

i was having lunch with a good friend. eating hummus on a pita with feta and onion and tomatoes and cucumber. and i think some garlic. or at least, my breath thought so. and i was in the middle of telling her about the panic attack i had last year and how i got through the flights to and from paris with xanax and that my therapist was helping and wow, i was really enjoying this sandwich and then - boom. i was reminded that i don't write here enough.

a woman came outside to tell me she reads this blog. and to introduce herself. and to tell me which comment she'd left - one i remember being significant on the day it was left. and anyway, i didn't even ask her name.

i'm sorry.

the past several months.

i am starting a new job tomorrow. what? yes.
i know.
this is my third new job in the past 14 months. but this one, this transition, was entirely my choice.
and do you know something? that choice felt good.

i'm going to kuhn & wittenborn. i'll be working on local clients doing everything from tv to digital to print to branding. i'm excited. for the change. to see a choice play out that was all mine. to meet new people, do new work and make new friends.

i've also been blogging every other wednesday for the ad club of kansas city. about ideas and words and copy and being creative.

and i've been running. still. but not in paris, i only ran once there. that's because we walked up to 10 miles a day to see things we'd never seen before.

and while i was there, i broke my no meat rule. and i ate organ meat and smoked duck and duck tartar and you know, when in paris...

did you know that most people there have pale skin and dark hair and hardly any boobs and are tallish and thinish and did you know that i am like 40 percent french. and going there - being around people who looked like me - did wonders for my self-esteem. i guess you could say it was a trip 32 years in the making.

and i'm thankful for it.

paris.

we just got back from paris.
my lifelong dream has been to go to the city where people walk around with a baguette
and ride bikes with a basket full of produce
and fall in love beneath the eiffel tower
while talking about how mind-blowing that trip to the louvre was.
and the dali museum.
and monet's garden.
holy, hell - the garden.

we didn't go to the garden.
but we did carry a baguette around. every day.
and when we saw the eiffel tower for the first time
i cried.