Little Things

I was a master of destroying myself.

I didn't realize how much I would need to forgive myself for destroying all the good I used to be. So I could create new good to replace it.

I rebuilt myself 1 small piece at a time. Until I genuinely loved who I saw in the mirror. I loved myself enough. Enough to forgive myself for the old ways I had adapted to cope with the sheer amount of unwell I lived with. Enough to try for me.

I still have ups and downs. But I know the downs are because I'm not treating myself like a toddler. Like a person worthy of gentleness and care.

And the roots I laid in recovery kept me from falling apartwhen each new crises came my way.

My mantra has become I am happy, healthy, and whole.

I'm not the same person I was in my teens, my 20's, my 30's. I'm now in my 40's. And I can look back at the expressions I chose to use to represent myself, simply because I've maintained a regular form of written processing.

I have led an extraordinary life. The result of that was extraordinary expression. And a firm amount of processing. I talked about the things I survived. I wrote about the things I've survived. I shared about the things I've survived. Because I survived. And I needed to make sense of it.

My presence, here on Tumblr, was actually never for you, the reader. It was for me, the writer.

If you were to patiently scroll back s far as you could, here, and read your way up from the very beginning. You'd witness that growth.

If you joined somewhere in the middle, that's ok, too.

Just know, when I share here, it's a milestone that I'm marking.

I'm still here. I'm so fucking proud of myself. I'm amazed at my own strength, and resiliency.

It took me 40+ years to learn how to human with any measure of success. I'm so glad I stuck around to figure it out. Because that concept of a genuinely happy life is realized.

Sure 2024 was fucking rough. With familial turmoil, family members passing away, a cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment for a close family member. But there was so much more to be grateful for. So many things happened that mark the end of the struggle I had to endure to keep myself alive.

2025 is going to be a YEAR. One that will mark happy milestones.

I attended my first ever pride march and festival this month. It was very healing and enjoyable.

I've known since I was very young, that I am bisexual. I was beaten for it a few times, when I was in high school. While I never made any attempt to hide it, I've never really felt the need to blast it, either. For me, it was a truth. And I didn't need to explain it.

I haven't ever felt comfortable attending, because I wanted to go with people I loved. This year, the opportunity arouse, where I was in a healthy place, surrounded by people I love, who were supportive and wanted to attend with me.

I loved seeing the colors. I loved feeling the vibe roll off of people. I loved the drag performers. I loved all of the amazing vendors.

It was a thoroughly enjoyable event.

I couldn't figure out why I had such a poor memory, as time went on.

And I journaled. That doesn't look like it's spelled correctly, to me.

I spent a lot of my life carrying a physical journal with me, to jot down notes about scenarios I encountered. To write random things down so I wouldn't forget.

That turned to homepages, which turned to blogging. I've had a number of them, over the years. And I didn't keep them for other people to read. I kept them so I could remember. Because my words brought me right back to the moment. They refreshed the emotion I had at the time. And reminded me how far I've come.

I still struggle with this. Only it doesn't show up, now, unless I really need it.

Growth.

Oh good, I'm not the only one!

Do. Better.

Indigenous formal wear, is formal wear. And it's important to support it.

We are here.