What Promise Will You Keep to You?

Recently I made a promise to myself, which I have done time and time again. In the past, I’ve promised to eat better. To read more. To write more. To stop cussing. To exercise more. I even promised to stop hitting snooze. Well, I still love to eat ice cream, I’m sore each time I exercise, I cuss like a sailor and hit snooze 4 out of 5 days a week.

However, if I promise my daughters or my husband or my mother I will do something, I will break my leg before I break my word to them. I am uncomfortable disappointing other people.

I decided I am tired of breaking my word to myself. I deserve the benefit of keeping my promises. I promised to stop disappointing me.

I am a therapist. I know the benefits of self-care. I preach the benefits of self-care (please refer to ANY one of my posts).
When feeling overwhelmed the last few weeks with quarantine, working from home, working in isolation at the office, debating the benefits of in-person-vs-home school and how to keep my sanity, I realized I was not practicing what I preached and reached out for some help.

I did not find the key to happiness, a secret code or a magic pill, but I did find some peace. I began practicing daily meditation to take better care of myself.
I know the research to support the benefits of meditation – I quote them daily to my clients. I did not need a reason to believe this would benefit me. I only needed to promise not to disappointment myself by making me a priority.

While I would love a weekly trip to the spa for a day full of pampering, that is not in the cards for this working momma. What I can commit to is 6-10 minutes per day where I am present in my life (sounds hippy-dippy right? bare with me).

When I am present, I am not time traveling back to the laundry list of shit I didn’t get finished yesterday and I am not jumping into what waits for me tomorrow. I am only focused on how my feet feel in this very moment. What I found was a peaceful heart, a still mind and a grateful human. I found me – not employee, not mother, not wife, not daughter, not friend, feminist, therapist, writer – just me in a moment that I can be proud of. My soul needed that and I look forward to it everyday.

I do not sit with my legs crossed while I empty my mind. I may have to fight for those tiny minutes to find the balance I crave, but I made a promise to myself and am no longer willing to break promises to me. I carve out my 6-10 minutes EVERY. SINGLE. DAY and it saves my life every single time I do because I am worth not disappointing.
What promise will you keep to yourself? šŸ‘‘šŸ§”

Stay tuned for more on what meditations I love and how I carve out 6-10 minutes in my day.

I Do Not Belong

Iā€™ve spent far too much time finding ways to belong. Removing pieces. Adding pieces. Changing bits and pieces of me for the comfort of fitting into something. This, Iā€™ve found is not belonging. That person fitting in is no longer me.


I belong among the wildflowers. -Tom Petty

You are only free when you realize you belong no placeā€”you belong every placeā€”no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great.
-Dr. Maya Angelou


For a spiritual awakening pick up Women Who Run with the Wolves by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes

So how’s it going, friends?!?


Are you holding on by the thinnest of thread repeating, “nothing to see here – everything is FINE”?

If you remember from previous posts, I’m Not Fine and Neither Are You!
Which also means, even if you feel alone, you are not!
I am WITH you and I am here FOR you!

I share a lot of my shenanigans with you and wondering… what speaks the loudest to you?
What do you relate to?
What do you want more of?

Send me your thoughts! Please!
I want to hear from YOU!
If you want to chat individually, let me know!
stephanie@killinitlife.com

Your feedback means so much to me!
Grateful for you all! šŸ‘‘šŸ§”

Whatā€™s in your cup?

I love this analogy!

You are holding a cup of coffee when someone comes along and bumps into you or shakes your arm, making you spill your coffee everywhere.

Why did you spill the coffee?

“Because someone bumped into me!!!”

Wrong answer.

You spilled the coffee because there was coffee in your cup.

Had there been tea in the cup, you would have spilled tea.

Whatever is inside the cup is what will spill out.

Therefore, when life comes along and shakes you (which WILL happen), whatever is inside you will come out. It’s easy to fake it, until you get rattled.

So we have to ask ourselvesā€¦ ā€œwhat’s in my cup?”

When life gets tough, what spills over?

Joy, gratefulness, peace and humility?

Anger, bitterness, harsh words and reactions?

Life provides the cup, YOU choose how to fill it.

Today let’s work towards filling our cups with gratitude, forgiveness, joy, words of affirmation; and kindness, gentleness and love for others.

(Shared from Heart of a Lioness)

Light Up the Darkness

Do you feel angry?
Are you afraid?
Is hope hard to come by?
Daily life brings triggers that send us into panic and before we know it we are overwhelmed and out of control.
I struggle when there are too many avenues to travel.
Multiple choice exams are my enemy!
Is “B” more correct than “A”?
Well, “C” is “A and B” so that makes the most sense, right?
When I spiral into the out of control tunnel of darkness and despair, to find my way out and back into the light I make just one decision and go with it. Only one.
The choice is not the end-all-be-all-absolute-solution. The choice is step one. Each individual choice I make, my options and path become more clear.
I fight fear with choice. I may not like the choices I am given, but choices they remain.
Where will you choose to start the week?
Light up the darkness with step one. šŸ‘‘šŸ§”

Anger or Grief?

I find comfort in my anger.
I have been known to hang on to grudges like tiny little birds. I keep them safely tucked away in their cages preventing the process of acceptance from occurring and letting go of what hurt me.
I have kept score of hurts I felt and ones I caused like it was my job – striving for balance between the two accounts.
There was a time I felt it was my right to hold on tight to these grudges and a sign of strength on my part because I was not going toĀ be taken advantage of.
This time was not long ago in a place far way. The not-so-distant past has a way of tricking us of when it actually took place.
My grudges and my anger kept me warm in my comfort zone, blocking out the light needed for growth and change.
Anger is much easier to feel than grief.
Anger lets me rage outside of myself searching for an external answer.
Grief involves pain and loss and sadness which all direct my attention inward.
Have you ever looked in the mirror after an ugly cry?
It’s not my favorite sight.
Recently, my Bitter-Betty side has been showing herself more often. (No offense to any Bettys out there – I actually love the name but it does go well with Bitter)
I have been angry about everything, literally EVERYTHING!
My grudges were growing exponentially by the day and it was just too much to keep up with. Red-truck-guy cutting me off only to slow down and turn left directly in front me was where I threw my hands up in defeat.
Red-truck-guy was only doing what red-truck guy does. He had no malicious intent toward me. He just needed to turn left as I have needed to do on a daily basis.
Life just happened on life’s terms and I had a choice to accept it or not.
When I turned my attention around to face myself in the mirror, I recognized grief instead of anger.
My grudges had grown because my world had been thrown on its ass. My regular life was now filled with empty calendars and anxiety of the unknown.
I have been walking around using the very phrase I swore off of, knowing damn good and well I AM NOT FINE!
I am grieving over my regular life. I miss hugs from my family and dinner with my friends. I am sad for the thousand of lives lost and level of hate I witness daily on the news. I am scared for my children and what life will look like as I try to raise decent human beings in this new world.
When I tear back the anger, I find grief and grief is no one’s fault. Grief is a reaction to life on life’s terms.
So I am going to do my best to stop keeping score, be honest enough to hold myself accountable and let people turn left when they need to because at some point I will too.

What Makes You Strange

Strange is someone else’s perception.
Strange is unique, uncanny, different, special, unfamiliar and distinctive.
Strange stands out in a crowd.
Strange is your you-ness in all its glory.
You must be vulnerable to be strange and when you find that courage, don’t ever let it go.
Your strange is your strength and that is worth a thousand celebrations.
This is not a lesson I learned over night and not a way of life I don’t have to practice on a daily basis. Finding comfort in my own skin, took years of trying on different looks to figure out it was my look that fit just right all along.
My story is strange.
My look is strange.
My way of seeing the world is strange.
As a young girl and even as a young woman, I just wanted to be “normal”, like everyone else. I feel sad for that girl and young woman. I know how hard that was trying so hard to figure out a place to fit. An impossible task that would never work.
You can spot me in a group at 1,000 paces. My hair and my laugh are bright and bold.
Out with some girlfriends one night in a crowded restaurant, a friend joining late found us quickly without calling. When we asked how, her response was she only had to listen for my laugh.There was a time I may have shied away from that, but I was able to nod my head acknowledging that truth.
My story has trauma, sadness, beautiful love and incidents I am not proud of. I cannot own pieces of that story. The entire story is what makes me, me and what makes me strange.
šŸ‘‘šŸ§”
What makes you strange?

Schedule Worry Time

Worry is all around us. We all feel overwhelmed, out of control and filled with uncertainty.

Donā€™t deny it, schedule it! Give yourself time to examine your worry.

Ask the question…do I have control over this worry right now, today?

If yes-take action! Call a friend. Do the thing. Move into the fear & do something besides worry.

If no- let it go! Save the worry for later.

Do not let it clog up your mind & take up space when you have no control in this moment.

When worry time is up, clock out! Thatā€™s it …until next time.

Take control where you can. The key is figuring out when & where that is.

Remembering My First Friend

Today, marks 10 years since my brother walked this earth. A milestone that requires acknowledge and his life, one that requires celebration.

My first friend.

My first enemy.

My first teacher of forgiveness.

Even when he drove me to the brink of insanity, I learned to accept him for who he was, not who I wanted him to be. It did not matter if I liked him every day, being my brother made me love him always. His love of basketball, his knowledge of all things sports, his genuineness as a human being and as a friend were only a few things he was well known for. Very early on, Derrick lived his life his way and did not require validation from anyone (a current goal of mine). Though I had imagined who he would be at the age of 35, 50 and 72 ā€“ that was not what his life was created for and that was never for me to determine.

Writing is my medicine. My source of healing. I empty words on a page and exhale the hurt in my soul. For the last four years, I put in the work to heal from the pain I experienced. I used writing, this tool that I love so much.

I exhaled a novel on some pages.

I created this blog to empty my thoughts into the world.

All of this with the hope that while I heal, maybe there is someone else who hurts like me and needs to read some words that speaks to them. Especially now, during this time of pain in our world, it’s important to find what heals us – what makes us feel connected to others. We are never alone if we are honest enough and brave enough to seek out a source of healing. None of us are fine and that is okay. Pain is temporary if you are willing to put in the work to let it go.

Find what heals you and do it!

When thinking about how to honor Derrick, I could not find the words I wanted to express the pain of losing this person I love. Then I realized I already had the words. I emptied them on pages of my novel and posts I shared with you. I will never be whole again without him, but I am finding ways to heal and honor this boy I watched grow into a man.

His love, his laugh and his giant presence will remain a void in my life always. But because of him, I love a little harder. I live a little more passionately. And I am grateful for the gift of knowing the love of my brother.

“I wake up to the sun creeping into my room. The distinct scent of a mix of fresh rain and a dash of lavender that hints to the night slipping away, lets me know itā€™s still early morning. The familiar aroma is welcoming to rise to. Inviting me to start my day, it is my first reminder of something beautiful in the world. However, today it’s my first reminder I am waking up in a world where my brother no longer exists. Upon this revelation, I grasp my chest because I can’t breathe. This new truth is choking out the life I had been accustom to. The life where he was there and always would be. Just yesterday, he was here. He was breathing and annoying me. Now he is gone. His room is empty and forever will be.” -From the Inside Out

“After becoming a therapist and a mother, my brother died of a drug overdose. Again, my core was shaken and my direction changed. Again, I had a new lens to see the world and had to find another way to forge down the path where new obstacles lay waiting for me. By this time, I was 30 with a new even more damaging set of coping skills I pulled from my tool belt to ā€œhandleā€ the pain of losing my first friend. Though my questions were different after this loss, the theme of blame remained the same. Why couldnā€™t I save him? Why didnā€™t I do more? However, as a good people-pleasing-caretaker, I sealed up all that blame, pain and sadness so I could be fine and attempt to continue down my familiar path. The problem was my life-lenses acted as beer goggles and I found myself fumbling and falling where I once floated.

What I have learned through all these experiences is the single worst thing I can do is be ā€˜fineā€™. When I am in pain and I am experiencing loss, I am far from fine. When I donā€™t give my experience and the stain it left on me the dignity of a name, and rather say ā€˜Iā€™m fineā€™ my stain spreads. The original impact of the trauma is much worse if I canā€™t call out the fact I am hurting and I have been effected by what happened.

Iā€™m not suggesting you have a full-on therapy session with the next person who asks how you are. However, instead of lying with ā€˜Iā€™m fineā€™, chose something else. Literally ANYTHING else, because being ā€˜fineā€™ is not living.

Life has not been promised without pain. We do not get to skip through Candyland shooting rainbows out of our ass while riding a unicorn. Though, if we can be honest with ourselves and with those we love and trust, we have the ability to come back from anything and find peace in the most troubling situations.” -ā€œIā€™m Not Fine and Neither Are You (Killinitlife.com)