maijapinion

With the exception of Harry Potter and a few other series; His Dark Material, The Lord of the Rings, A Song of Ice and Fire... (I'm realizing as I'm typing this that I must have a thing for the fantasy world 🦄🤷), I am NOT what one would consider a reader. In fact, I'm sure someone can quote me as saying that I hate it. This year has been rough, to say the least. I was talking to my sister, Marika, sometime in the late summer. Her and I are so different, so typically when we offer advice to one another, it's not exactly what either of us are looking for. But this time was different. Anytime the boys were asleep for the night, I was alone. And when I was alone, I felt sad, desperate, and obviously lonely. I needed some sort of comfort, something else in my life to focus on besides worrying about my boys, besides dwelling on my divorce. This time when Marika suggested a couple books to read, books that had really helped someone she knew, through a tough time. The s

I will be celebrating Hanukkah AND Christmas ( and so will my kids ). I was raised Catholic. Baptized, confirmed, and married in the Catholic Church. I even attended a Catholic high school where for two year I was the teacher's aid to the priest that was assigned to our school. His name is Father Steve. He had an impact on my life in ways that I can't quite explain. He refused to call Religion class "religion" and instead opted for the term "Theology" class. He said that religion isn't something you can learn, religion is a part of who you are. He was keen on the subject of philosophy, which, to this day, 20 years or so later, has resonated with me. Philosophy became a huge interest of mine. And how he referenced religion as something that can't be taught... this stuck with me. In college, I chose elective classes like philosophy and world religions. I was fascinated by the concept of religion. I was a practicing Catholic for a long time. I even

A simple meme... credit to @dailydunndecor I began writing in my journal on August 14, 2018. I had only written one line. "Monroe starts kindergarten tomorrow." A lot has happened in the 3 months that I started this journal. I've had my first parent teacher conferences, my boys started wrestling, and I was served my divorce papers exactly one week ago. There was something about that moment. I can't describe it. I knew it was coming. He had said he filed, but that had been a couple weeks priors and I still hadn't received anything. Just that, something as simple as that, gave me hope. Unexplainable hope, that maybe, just maybe, we were going to be able to stay married and work things out. I had actually filed all of my paperwork as well. It was just whose attorney was going to file it first. When I heard the knock on my door, I knew. That sinking feeling in you gut. I looked out the peep hole of my apartment door and saw an older man. It wasn't the FedEx gu

I will only look back to smile... I recently made a post on my instagram in regard to going through a divorce. I wasn't glorifying it. I wasn't doing it to make other people feel sorry for me. I was posting it because I felt like some people thought I was trying to hide it. And to be honest, for a while I was. I was ashamed, embarrassed. I felt like a failure. On that day, I was ok with it. I was able to accept it for what it was. I felt like I was becoming a stronger individual, a stronger mother because of all of these negative experiences that I had gone through. I knew on that day, I wasn't going to let it define my life moving forward. On that day something happened. I had more than 10 people, some of them close friends, some of them just acquaintances, reach out to me and tell me that they were going through the same thing. They saw my post a being brave and vulnerable. I was told it was inspiring. This caught me off guard. The social stigma of someone going th