Un-Balancing Act

I often remember driving in his car. The speed and the teenaged love intoxicated me. A nylon seat belt created an embrace across my heart, connecting me to the steel of the car. My body heated, clinging to the seat in acceleration, then jerking with each intentional shift. I watched his hands which were usually divided between the steering wheel and the shifter. I watched his legs covered in faded Levi jeans marching with the rhythm of the clutch and gas. It was a Nissan Sentra.  There wasn’t a place I didn’t want to go in that car. Freedom. To Blockbuster we went, for the latest in VHS entertainment. We watched movies sitting close with our innocent flesh radiating through clothes purchased for us by our mothers. At my house we had company - siblings and parents depending on the movie choice and time of night. At his house we watched in a private basement. I remember there, being secluded with just the light of the tv and our young love, we often became distracted during movies. The m

There comes a time when I have to admit to myself that I like starting over. The finish line feels good, but it is a climax following months of milestones. The victories achieved on the journey are sweet. Along the way I have found myself derailed. Discipline seems to be the easiest thing to blame. Self discipline is the only kind at play here. There is no one here to punish me except the world in the largest sense, and myself in the most realistic sense. Punishing myself is a sort of specialty. If I do not achieve I simply remain stagnant and that could be ok. If I fail or fall I could lose material things. But that is just a perception. A medal or trophy truly means nothing. Money means nothing. It is the sense of satisfaction and personal success that is the ultimate measure in some ways. It is the legacy of what is left behind in others that makes an accomplishment successful. Every day is the chance for a fresh start. When I decide it is day 1, I feel alive. When I get back up off

You’re in a relationship for a long long time. You end it and vow to never date again. 2 years later you change your mind. Now what? There was a time not long ago that every guy I saw grossed me out. These were the after effects of a traumatic and abusive relationship in which my self worth was diminished and ability to trust anyone ever again nearly demolished. Well...apparently my libido has come out of hibernation and I’m suddenly objectifying almost every man I see... in my mind of course not in an outward disrespectful way. I live a fairly isolated life in a suburban community, working from home and spending most of my time with my family, rather than mixing and mingling with other singles. After all why would I position myself to mix and mingle when I was all but dead inside? Out of curiosity and lack of other options I hit up the App Store and downloaded all the swipeable things. Let the adventure begin. All swipes were to the left in the beginning. My stomach turned at the id

I live in a curious, thought inspired bubble, where I practice the art of shutting out unnecessary negativity and acting as a positive influencer on those around me. I aim to be happy and make those around me feel warm and positive. Despite all of my best efforts there are times where worry does rear its ugly head into my atmosphere of peace. In my first 38 years of life I waffled between constant planning in avoidance of any potential disruption (sadness, pain, injury, loss - you name it) and constant worry about my lack of power over the unknown.  After a careful reflection on the experiences in my life to date - many of which I worried powerlessly over at some point - I shifted my gaze toward the sun and acknowledged that I am a survivor. Not every person gets the opportunity to rescue someone from a burning building in his or her lifetime, but every person faces challenges that require us to put our worry aside, be in the moment, and make clear decisions. If you have a family and

The night trying too hard almost killed me. The evening started as a success. Thousands of dollars were being spent with each paddle's rise, benefitting a charter school on the island. On the microphone a local, well-liked politician energized the group with his beaming smile and rhythmic descriptions of items up for bid. Wine flowed endlessly, poured by the smiling staff hustling around the tent to ensure glasses remained full. Alcohol is a good fund-raising lubricant. The team of servers kept close watch on our table especially. At our table, their boss, my partner, was keeping close watch on the execution of this important evening. The auction ended and as we all dispersed from our seats to congratulate our table-neighbors on their winnings, my partner approached me quickly. His hand firmly grasped my empty arm (as the other was holding a wine glass) and he told me we were leaving. I was confused at first but as he began to describe the flaws in service he noted during the

How long does it take before you can really say a person affected your life? Does it take one year, one decade, or just one hour? A few months ago I walked into the office of Suzette DeJarnette and in her first sentence I was affected. "Hello, I am Sharon Vaughn. How are you today?" I asked this question in my usual first-meeting, sales-girl voice. As she was to counsel me on my deepest thoughts and issues I naturally assumed the enthusiasm of her response would reflect all the happiness she wanted me to find following our time together. "I'm medium today,"  Suzette replied honestly and instantly informed me of her credibility. Though I enjoyed her honesty I also I admit to being nervous. In my new-found pursuit for authenticity, I feared I would not have the luxury of filtering myself to gain a favorable judgement from her. But it (and she) was all just what I needed. Our hours together were short and memorable. She was an original feminist, a straight shoote

“...Authenticity can lead to life satisfaction, but...life satisfaction does not lead to authenticity.”  (From The Benefits of Being Yourself: An Examination of Authenticity, Uniqueness, and Well-Being by Abigail Mengers) My true identity has for years been protected by a carefully crafted armor. I believed it was protecting my sensitive feelings from judgement and ridicule, but this armor was really designed to protect me from my own self judgement. When decisions cannot be explained or justified, add another layer. When control over my own circumstances has been unwillingly relinquished, add another layer. But, when my heart was broken, a crack in this armor appeared. A pressure valve opened up and what started coming out from those cracks was only vaguely familiar to me. I started smiling at strangers again. I made and kept commitments to myself and my family. I reconnected with people I had long neglected for fear they would bust me on my inauthenticity.  While I blamed the n

I have been there a hand full of times... having a great night out, beverages flowing and big smiles punctuated with glazed eyes all around me. Stumbling up to the bar my eyes squint with the realization the lights have just come on. "Last call!!" I am feeling an internal cocktail of relief and annoyance. Who are these people to say the party is over?? I protest, learning that once the lights are on, there is no bargaining. Somehow I make it home and fall asleep in my dress with one heel on. Before I know what happened my mascara is leaving its mark on my pillow. The next morning I vow never to drink again... until the next night like this one! While memories of mornings like these aren't my proudest moments, they highlight the universal truth that ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. Sure, the bartender just wanted to close his drawer for the night and go home or have his own fun - but what he really did was let us all know that we didn't need any more drinks. After recently processi

After the fog of starvation, too much wine, and heartbreak subsided, I began to see my new life without a partner as something very full and rewarding rather than something empty and lonely and hopeless. The fears and insecurities that kept me in a very toxic relationship for eight years disappeared.  No longer bound by the censorship that filtered every twisted reality into something worthy of a thumbs up, the freedom of honesty prevailed and I embraced the truth that I was in complete control of my future. The past was a school, and the future was the gift I gave myself by making the choice to leave. Day by day the new choices I have made with myself in mind have given me freedom. In the past 8 years things that seem mundane to a healthy normal person caused anxiety in me. I was anxious if toward the end of the day my nail polish was chipped and my significant other might arrive home before I had the chance to manicure. Before a hello or a hug, I would hear once again, "

It was almost 4 months ago now. “The Breakup”. It felt life-shattering, irreversibly damaging, and as bad as any tragedy I had ever experienced. It was dramatic and traumatic. It was something out of a romance turned horror film. It started with a suspicion and ended on vacation. In a blur of nausea, starvation, and sobbing, I spent my last 48 hours in Puerto Vallarta in disbelief, thinking I might die of heartbreak. Four months later while I still feel a sense of loss (mainly of time) I also feel I have gained much more. Maybe it is what I re-gained. The opportunity to be me. The chance to smell roses and meander rather than constantly running. Regaining my self confidence, self control, self worth. Regaining my security. Rediscovering my love for the world and releasing my discontent. As a master of the “all or nothing” method of loving someone, I martyred myself for what I thought was the benefit of my relationship. I blinded myself from any possibility that it would not wor