Lost.

I sat at the kitchen table tonight after photographing a football game that was delayed due to heavy rain, thundering, and wind and stared at my plate filled with two small pieces of beef, green beans, peas, and ranch style beans. As I shoved a small spoonful of peas into my mouth, I started to cry and wondered when life will get better.  You see, I am in a season of my life where there are very few things that go well and tons of things that don't or at least that is my perception at the moment.

I have done a lot of searching for the silver lining and have had copious amounts of pep talks while looking at myself in the mirror.  I've questioned my worth, I've lost my confidence and I am continually searching for my purpose.  I often reflect on my journey and question how I got here, why does my story look like this and wonder what's it going to take to get to a place of inner peace and happiness.

I'm stuck in the land of self doubt.  I'm lost.

I am a human being first. photographer second.

It's been a trying five months.  The weight of the world is on top of my shoulders and while it's not that bad, it's been one emotional roller coaster ride.  There are many, many, good days and then some not so good days.  I'm a business owner and with that I am learning to regulate my emotions when it comes to the ups and downs of the business.  I am trying to realize: Not everything is personal.  Not everyone knows my story.  Not everyone knows my intentions.  Not everyone knows my struggle.  It's ok.  I understand I can't be everyone's cup of tea.  I am maturing as a business owner.

Emotions are part of me.  It's who I am.  I am passionate. I care A LOT!

The greatest legacy one can pass on to one's children and grandchildren is not money or other material things accumulated in one's life, but rather a legacy of character and faith. Legacy is not what I did for myself. It's what I'm doing for the next generation. No matter what happens in life, be good to people.


At the end of the day, I am a human being first.  photographer second.

Soon you'll get better....

Taylor Swift released her latest album, Lover, on August 23rd.  Eager with anticipation,  I downloaded the songs and did a quick listen because DUH.  Song 12;  a collaboration with the Dixie Chicks, stops me in my tracks.

The song starts....

"The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair....." {I pause the TV show my husband and I are watching to listen with intent.}. In doctors office lighting I didn't tell you I was scared.  That was the first time we were there. Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you.  Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too.

And I say to you, "Ooh, soon you'll get better.

My eyes tear up as I try to untangle the story behind the song.  After all, we know Taylor is known for epic songwriting that resonates with something she is passionate about. As we continue to listen, I can't help but insert my own story into the meaning behind the words in the song.

And as the song ends, I look over at John and say -- I think this song is about Mental Health.  It has to be.  The song wasn't written about Mental health but for me it summarized our journey with our daughter and her struggles with mental health.  The hope we hold on to, the doctor visits, the hospital stays, the tests, the medicine bottles, the tears, everything.

Every time we step into the doctors office to see the neurologist, we are filled with hope that soon, she'll get better -- IT'S BEEN YEARS OF HOPING.  The promise that her frontal lobe can mature and she can discontinue medication and function successfully in society is our hope.

A song so beautifully written it transcends so many people's journey and brings to light that we all have hope.  The hope to beat cancer, hope to find a cure for mental health, or the hope to have just one more day with our love ones.

And I say to you,

"Ooh, soon you'll get better"
"Ooh, you get better, soon"
"Cause you have to"

Seasons of Change

It's been a hot minute since I mustered up the courage or desire to put my thoughts to words.  I've imagined plenty of stories I'd like to tell but never put the pen to paper, until this week.

It's growing more and more evident that this life moves fast.  If you don't take a moment to stop and look around, you just might miss it.

Today, my grandma moved into a nursing home.  Dementia is starting to take over and the once hip, fashion-forward woman I've known all my life is changing.  Understanding that our brain is intricate, I've accepted this change and know she can't control what is to happen next.  She is entering a season of change; a new phase of her life.  A phase that will be unpredictable but one that can also provide perhaps new personal stories of life as she fades backward in time.

Back at their homes, both of my parents are unknowingly cleaning out their spaces that once held memorable items I collected as a child.  As they hand them over to me, I sit and wonder, is it again a season of change?  Is our time together growing shorter?  It is inevitably growing shorter every year but this cleaning feels especially emotional.  Both parents delicate in their own way -- I am selfish to think I will have them forever.

It's all part of growing up, I guess.  I just worry this season of change is going to be tough.