Now That The Holidays Are (Almost) Over…

The holidays aren’t easy for everyone and that’s okay; it is, in fact, something that we need to be cognizant of.  Before you run away thinking that this is going to be some sort of depressing post, hang on, I promise, it won’t be.

But even if it is some sort of depressing post, I am sorry, I am a human.  It’s not all love and light 24/7.  Sometimes, it’s a little, “I’m done with this, done with that, done with you.  I am going to bed for the next 36 days and taking these cookies with me.  Don’t come looking for me.  Sage ya later.”

I, for one, love the holidays; yet, it is still a matter of the heart time of the year for me as it is with more people than you know.  Especially in the digital age, it can be tough scrolling through pictures of families celebrating if you don’t have one, people posting pictures of their babies opening presents that “Santa brought” if you’ve been trying for one or lost one, people getting engaged while you just had a breakup, we’re trying so hard to make the perfect day for our families; if you’re a parent, maybe you’re spending money that you don’t have to make the day special for your child or children.

As some of you may have read over the course of the almost two years that I have been sharing parts of my life, my brother and I don’t have a relationship with my parents.  That, for one, is a little crippling especially around the holidays, even if it gets easier as time goes by.

I also have a counter depth refrigerator and I host Christmas Eve:  Also very crippling.

Mix in a pending divorce and receiving Christmas cards addressed to my maiden name, when that’s not my last name, Someone pass me a set of crutches for my emotions, will you?  Maybe some salt for my open wound?

While preparing Christmas Eve dinner with my 13yr old niece, Toni Ann, (she slept over to help me clean and cook!) we had music playing while prepping.  The “Perfect Duet” by Ed Sheerhan and Beyoncé came on, which fully tugs on my heart strings, and she asked one of her countless “Aunt Angela?” questions, as she did in the previous 24 hours, “Aunt Angela, do you think when you get married again this will be your wedding song?”

Paralysis set in.

A lump in my throat.

I was thinking of doing what any logical adult would do:  Abort Christmas and run away.  She’ll call someone to pick her up.

I said to myself in my head,  “Don’t cry.  Don’t cry.  Don’t cry.  You’re cleaning shrimp.  Don’t cry into the shrimp.  People need to eat these shrimp.”  And, of course, I didn’t want her to see me upset during our bonding time.  What was so amazing was that this inquisitive little person, who looks up to me, saw positivity and faith in my future, because that’s what she sees me express, even if I didn’t see it at the moment.

When you get married again.”

She quickly spun my previous 14 months into a manifestation for me, when it wasn’t feeling that way because of the holidays.  All of a sudden, this 13yr old was my inspiration.  All within a few seconds, what actually seemed like hours, I looked at her with a little grin and said, “You know, maybe it will be.”

Fast forward to Christmas Day.  I often get emails and direct messages, on Instagram, relating to my Instagram page and this very blog.  Yesterday, I received a message from a woman whom I do not know and it turned out to be the best gift of the day.  On a day that I needed a little extra comfort, this woman gave it to me, and I, in turn gave it to her.


When I first started writing, it was a way for me to express myself creatively.  I always enjoyed reading and writing and I suppose subconsciously it was a passion that was fighting its way to the surface.  I never thought it would turn into a connection based movement where me sharing facets of my life would inspire anyone.  Somehow, it does and its pretty f***ing humbling.

“…there’s powerful evidence that opening up about traumatic events can improve mental and physical health.” (via Option B by Sheryl Sandberg) In a world where American culture almost encourages us to mask our true feelings and never let anyone in on our truth, it’s apparently a rebellious act to share them.

My advice:  Rebel.  Rebel and revel in the power of human connection.

Merry Everything, Happy Always.


All of my deepest love,







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