Sunday, March 6, 2016


Well, this past week signified the week that I would have normally gotten on a plane, had I not already been away the first week of December and am booked to head out again the first week of April. 

This time last year, I had regrets when our American friends headed out of the snow drifts of Wisconsin without us but this year I could have sworn I felt differently. Though I'm genuinely sad that I didn’t wake up this week on a beach in Jamaica (to relax and ring in my girlfriends 40th birthday) I had to be realistic; there's only so much time and less than that left in the budget. Even understanding those two critical factors, from the moment their Facebook page alerted me that they’d boarded their flight, I immediately longed to return, for a third time since 2012, to Jamaica.

As silly as this may read, I realized this past week, that I discovered myself in Negril. When I type that, I should clarify that I don’t care who you are, nothing prepares you for mid-life. Never once did anyone ever warn, nor offer me the proverbial handbook, of what to do with my time and energy once my children moved on. As a result, I quickly found myself lost. Which in turn landed me at a personal crossroads, accompanied by a full blown identity crisis.

You can't visit Jamaica and not land at Rick's Cafe. AMAZING!
TAKEN: MARCH 2nd, 2012

That said, to add salt to my wounded wanderlust this past week, I ended up chatting with a specific friend that was in my inner circle at the time of my fateful trip of self-discovery four years ago. If there's one thing I've realized in hindsight, it’s that when you allow people to see even a hairline crack of discord in your life, human nature has them use that as leverage for their own agenda.

I won’t elaborate any further except to say that once I got home from my 2012 Jamaica trip, it wasn’t long before I closed myself off from their negativity toward me and their opinions about the direction my life may or may not go. I was shocked last week they typed… “Something tells me that you’re never going to let me forget that time.” 

My answer? Abbsa-friggin’-lootley!!

I’ll never forget that very painful time. Matter a fact, I don’t want to forget. If I do, then those exact hairline cracks of negativity and control will slowly reappear. My biggest fear is that they will once again purposefully chip away at my self-confidence, which in hindsight was devastating. 

Bull crap aside... Happy Anniversary, to me. Just like the day I landed at Rick's Cafe in 2012, when it comes to navigating mean people, my mind has arrived where my determination will always be. Hear me roar when I say that I will never return to a place where I allow any person, friend and/or family member to manipulate my thoughts again.

Because let's face it. Any and all of them thar thoughts are exactly that... MINE! 

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