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Love Is (Not) All You Need

“Our story is my favorite. You were nothing that I expected, but everything that I needed.”  Meeting my husband felt like something straight out of a fairy tale- I was the damsel in distress and he was my knight in shining armor. Growing up, all my ideals of love and marriage were based off the “all you need is love” fairytale ideology.  I spent so many days, months, and years of single motherhood just surviving... just trying to make it to the next day. I would dream about having a nuclear family, having a spouse, and having someone to help take on the responsibility both physically and financially.  Being married has been amazing and wonderful. My marriage saved me; it really did. In my vows I said, “you have given me the family that I so badly wanted. Most importantly, you have given me my life back.”  I’m very fortunate to have a spouse who will pick up where I left off. He has allowed me the opportunity to finally focus on my dreams and my career while he not only supports our fam
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Secret Shame

  Sunshine pouring down on my face, I can feel the warmth as my eyes slowly awaken. I hear birds chirping outside my window as I sprawl out in bed, enveloped in clouds of down blanket. I glance at my phone, “8 am” I say, as I roll over and fall back into the sweet abyss of dreamland.   Well, a girl can dream…right? The days of setting my alarm and hitting the snooze button while catching some extra sleep are long gone. These days, I don’t even need an alarm; my kids are my alarm. It’s not out of the ordinary to wake up to a foot in the face or the ear-piercing shriek of “Mama!” These kids have no snooze button, so neither do I. Our morning consists of battle of the breakfasts. Will avocado toast take the lead today, or will it be lucky charms for the fourth day in a row?   “Alexa, play we don’t talk about Bruno.” “Alexa, play we don’t talk about Bruno again.” “Seven-foot frame, rats along his back” I sing to myself as I chase a one-year-old and a four-year-old around the house, b

Badge of Honor

  It’s 9 pm on a Wednesday night and I’m finally able to sit down for the first time all day. It’s Wednesday…but I’ve already worked 37 hours this week. My body is begging for sleep, but the laundry that is overflowing in the basement is beckoning to be folded, the kitchen table calls for me under a sea of crumbs and miscellaneous papers, and lunches are anxiously awaiting to be packed for tomorrow. It’s one of those nights where I don’t even know where to begin because there is so much that needs to be done and even the thought of it all makes me tired. “You wanted this, you chose this,” I try to remind myself when I’m feeling overwhelmed and ungrateful for the life I have chosen.   I chose this life. At 18 years old, I chose to become a mom. It wasn’t easy back then, and it sure as heck isn’t easy now. Becoming a young mom has been a beautiful journey, but it’s also been an excruciatingly painful journey.   When I was 8 months pregnant, I was living out of my car. I vividly remembe