On a dark, rainy, New Year’s Eve night, I watched raindrops trickle down my window. As I peered out outside, I saw reflections of the city lights, as the rain wiped away the dust of 2018. “Does this seem symbolic of the year?” Grant said. He had it 100% right. It most certainly did. The dust of that stormy year finally settles, and we move on.
It’s sweater season, people, and that down right makes me cringe. Holiday lights are everywhere I look, and while it’s all merry and bright, I operate best with a daily dose of sunshine. Screw the snow. (Why do I live in New York?)
Red swimsuit. Sunshine beaming on my face. Toes in the sand. The waves crashing around me. Visions of a lifeguard stand off in the distance. “Runnnnn!” Grant yells, as I hear the sound of the camera’s shutter fluttering in the distance. I sprint towards him in my teeny, red bikini across the sands of Miami Beach. My hair whipping behind me in slow motion. In my head, it felt like a scene from Baywatch.
This is my middle name. I control everything in my life, and I’m an insane perfectionist. I like to be in charge of my own life, right down to the nitty gritty details. My expectations are incredibly high. It works as an advantage as well as a disadvantage for me. I trust myself, and only myself.
October 30th. It was my due date. A day that was supposed to bring me joy. In my mind, I would be holding a baby boy in my arms. October 30th. Now a day that I’ve been dreading, ever since my story changed. The pages turned faster than I could stop them, and the story abruptly ended. I won’t have the happily ever after that I spent my days dreaming of…yet.
The last few days of summer and the first few days of Fall…I can already feel the change in the air. It’s that crisp feeling, that reminds me of renewal. Rosh Hashanah, (the Jewish New Year) is upon us, and it is a reminder of new beginnings. A time to reflect upon the past year, to appreciate what it was, and a chance to improve upon the coming year; looking forward towards life with fresh eyes and an open heart.
Say hello to Rosa. She’s the one that stole my heart. From the moment I opened that crisp dust bag, and saw that perfect, little white bag, I knew it was love at first sight.
Sunshine. Something I live for. It lives in the warm rays beaming down on my face. It lives in the hearts of the ones I love. And it lives on, through the spirit of a 5 year old little girl, named Scarlett, who recently received her angel wings.
Boxing and ballet. Two of my greatest loves in life. One, I’ve dedicated to practicing for fifteen years (boxing/martial arts). It’s become my greatest crutch during challenging points in life, and my true love on my greatest days. The other, ballet, I let slide, practicing sporadically throughout my life, but ultimately letting my practice fall to the side. Quite opposite sports, yet both require discipline and strength.
August 15th, and it’s another trip around the sun. Today, I celebrate life. More specifically, I celebrate MY life. The good days, the glorious days, the worst days, the unexpected days, and every other one in between. To be entirely honest, in my mind, this birthday was supposed to be different. I thought I’d celebrating in a different way, munching on a few extra slices slices of cake, sipping water, rather than champagne, and looking forward to a little life on the horizon, instead of focusing on my own.