I have never been one to take the easy way. Instead I find myself traversing life making choices that make me feel more isolated. I am also a caregiver by nature. As a caregiver, I constantly place the needs of others before my own. As a child I cared for my little brother. I remember reading him stories at night. Or climbing down to his bunk to rub his back to help him sleep. Even though he was a little shit to me.

My first job was a caregiver under the official title CNA (certified nursing assistant) when I was 17. I worked at a nursing home that was understaffed with a high patient ratio. I was employed to work my shifts on the third floor. This floor was for the people who have lost that part that makes us tethered to the world. Some people stuck on an endless repeat cycle. Appearing as a broken component with a user error flashing. At this job, I spoke up for my patients when I saw mistreatment. Even if my coworkers saw it as cutting corners to save time. I think they forgot that these shells of a human are people and are still human. That one day we could easily end up here like them. Just stuck on repeat and shitting in a diaper just like we did at the beginning of life.

In high school, I watched both my older sisters get married and have children all before turning 20. When I turned twenty, I was 2000 miles from home in sunny California. I worked for almost four and half years at a non-profit farm animal sanctuary. I put my blood, sweat, tears, vomit and soul into that farm. My body holds scars and old pain from the shear physical labor that comes with working on a farm. Along with the emotional scars that will continue to haunt me. I was raising with the sun and tucking animals in as the sunset below the peaks of the hills that hugged us. I felt like connected to mother nature tending to the wellbeing of the animals I loved so dearly. I drove the tractor up to the mountain pasture sing Burn’ For You with the dust cloud embracing my sun baked skin. My time spent with those animals and people helped created the person I am today. I am trying to look back on those days fondly instead of with a heavy heart. It was more than just a job. It was a way of life and finding the words at the moment is not possible.

After that non-profit I ended up at another. This one was built on the possibility of school and working a few hours here and there. Those few hours led to more and the bombardment of tucking chickens into bed so my boss could go out. Or the toll of two-three people trying desperately to de-clump hundreds of chickens. Newly rescued hens do not understand space, roosting, or nesting. As it gets darker the chickens would franticly climb on top of each other. By the time I left I became voiceless, mentally, and emotionally burned out.

All through out these jobs in California I was trying my best to get over a long term relationship I left behind in Minnesota. He was an alcoholic and abusive. No amount of love, wanting, doing and pushing can change someone else. You can never change a person. I am grateful he taught me that lesson. You can offer wisdom, guidance, support, love and just hold space. But it is up to them to undergo the transformation and braking free from the tethers that are holding them back. I am happy for the things he taught me about myself and I do truly hope he find his happiness and peace in this lifetime.

I always held close to my heart the belief we meet people in our life for a reason. After many dates and failed relationships I found my person who gets me like no other. It was a hike at Bothe-Napa that sealed our fate. Our hearts entwined that day. After I left my last place of employment I happily took a much need rest to focus on school and this tiny little creature growing inside of me.

That was back in 2014 the year of the baby. The following year 2015 would be the year of the death of my sister and a month later the death of my father. John and I married in 2016 in a private ceremony off the deck in our room at the Stanford Inn in Mendocino in California. Maya played between our feet as we over looked a beautiful garden with the ocean drawing us in. The next year my mother was married and the final fracture of our family took place. I say these words not to harm anyone but to bring awareness to the loss of my Minnesota family. The one who ordered pizza and ate ice cream cakes for birthdays. That year the house, the last house we were as a family, was sold. Come 2018 we decided to grow our family again. We welcomed another daughter into our lives. Mathilda Fae has added this humor to our household that is needed. She holds such joy for life and her sense of humor shines bright in her laughter.

So, here I am creating this space to share my life with my family, friends and whomever can respect me, my family, and my space. I have always been a voice to those who need one. Right now I need a voice in my life and want to feel more grounded. I am needing a voice for my needs. Not the needing of the never ending cycle of housework. The day I become a mother a cosmic shift occurred that day. My body changed in ways I never could expected or imagined. Despite my knowledge of drooping breast from the nursing home. Vowing in my younger days that my boobs will never ended up in my waist band(Well, the boobies are quite pendulous these day). In this space I want to explore who I am beyond the title of mom. I lost my way in this chapter in my life. Also have the accountability to do better in my self-care. I am dealing with depression, anxiety, and having an autoimmune disease. I am letting my mask down, well ever so slightly, in this space. While I traverse this new path ahead of me, I do so along side my children and husband. They provide much love, support, and humor that is needed to get by on the rocky days. Come join me as I untether myself from the society chains that come with the job title “mom”.