Runaway Bride.

Somehow Marty and I landed this reputation
of being some kind of perfect couple.
For a long time, we couldn’t even argue
that because we were great. Really great.
No big blowout fighting, no yelling, no walking out on each other.
We were/are complete opposites but it never ever created
any relationship chaos. It’s been the best
4 years of my entire life.

Yesterday it all came crashing down around 9am.
I’ve been having marriage nightmares and feeling
panicky about the future ever since a family friend announced
that she’d be leaving her husband after 27 years of marriage.
27 FREAKING years.

I preach all the time about young mothers only thinking about
the cute clothes, and the easy stuff when they think of
becoming parents. I believe some women forget about the
loss of freedom, sleep, the sleepless nights, the fights,
the disciplining, the teen trouble, etc…
I’m guilty of similar thinking when it comes to marriage.
I’ve been wishing & waiting for the proposal so
I could start planning my dream backyard wedding,
and to be able to call Marty my husband.
But that all became a distant memory when I was listening
to our family friend discuss her feelings on her divorce.
I started thinking about all of the divorces in my family and I freaked.
Convinced myself that with all of the family drama and
the divorces and the messes I’ve witnessed, I wasn’t
destined for that life and that I’d screw it up.
This was the beginning of a very long couple weeks of doubt,
self-doubt, destruction and insanity.

That all quickly turned into yesterday morning…
the morning when all of my fears came flying out of my mouth
and into his ears.
By the end of the conversation, I knew I wasn’t
listening to my heart, but I convinced myself otherwise.
Convinced a few people too…
everyone except good ol’ Papa Bear.

My Dad is not the father who is anxious for his daughter
to get married. In fact, Marty is the only guy that I’ve
brought home that my Dad actually approves of.
So when he came and picked me up, and I started telling him
what happened, I was immediately recognizing all of the
flaws in my logic.
So much so that my Dad turns to me and says,
At any point, I will turn the car around and take you
back to Marty…I have no problem with that at all.
You’ve answered your own questions.”

It wasn’t until I was explaining to him that in the past,
I would reach a point in relationships and no longer be able
to see the future with whomever I was dating, and that was my
queue to escape.
The trouble I had with this yesterday, was that I couldn’t
imagine my life without Marty. Ever. I could still
see it all, crystal clear.
Our wedding day.
Children. {goats & chickens}
Us being old & gray.
Still laughing before we go to sleep.

So the fears and panic were present,
but I didn’t lose sight of the future.

Reality kicked my fears ass so badly yesterday.
That never happens.
No guy has ever been able to break past my fears.
Marty is the one.
 and maybe I’m not the Runaway Bride after all…..


We’re all busy.
We work.
We’re tired from working.
We’re stressed.
We have a lot on our plates.
We’re overwhelmed.
We’re underwhelmed.
But don’t let those things interfere with the TLC
that you’re relationship needs.
Go on dates.
Show affection.
Surprise your partner.
Encourage them.
Don’t read too deeply into EVERYTHING.
Keep calm.
Be patient.
Be kind.

Don’t take the person you love for granted.
{Marty & I are going to put some of our focus back onto
our relationship & I am so grateful to our family & friends who
listened, supported and understood our situation yesterday
and helped us get through our first of many bumps in the road
that we will squash together.}


This was my cigarette hiatus as of 2 days ago.
The awesomeness of this accomplishment has finally
hit me. I’ve been really proud, but I started thinking
about it the other night and I looked at Marty and said,
“How did I, ME, the OCD crazy lunatic with no self control
stop smoking for 7 weeks?”
I mean, seriously. Seriously?
I don’t do the whole, If you use a pound of butter for
your instant macaroni and cheese, you’ll have a heart attack, motivation.
So telling me that smoking cigarettes is going to kill me, doesn’t do much.
I can tell you this though….

The trouble with quitting this time around is that I am disappointed
that I don’t have a secret way to quit smoking
to share with everyone.
No genius new idea that no one is aware of.
Nor can I give hope to those who use Chantix,
gum, patches, hypnosis, acupuncture, etc.
I realized one day how much money was going
towards the habit, said that that pack was going to be
the last pack of cigarettes I’d ever smoke, and

…..I’ve been smoke free ever since.
get it?
{“….last pack of cigarettes I’d ever smoke, and BAM!”}
I love how often I hear people use “BAM!” and I immediately envision
my emblem. I hope within the next couple years all of you do the same thing!

Anyways, back to the topic at hand….
My advice to those who would like to quit smoking:

Just do it.
Just decide on a whim that you’re going to quit.
Don’t plan it out, just decide that the pack of cigarettes
you have is your last pack and do it.
Find a way to track your progress.
And brag to everyone everytime you reach a new week.
Or day. Or hour. Whichever makes you feel proud.
I’m addicted to the support I get from my family
and friends for quitting. I am a people pleaser,
so when I see that the people in my life are happy about
something I’m doing, I’m satisfied.

Next bad habit on the list to quit:

the F bomb.

{some days i can’t decide how i want to shoot…
so i shoot everything.}

{the aftermath of yesterday}


It never occurred to me that 2012 would be the year
I’d learn so many valuable lessons on top of the success
I’m experiencing with my business.
Everyday is a new day, and it’s quite remarkable.


Today, Misty peed on my Michigan State sweatshirt.
I thought it was hilarious & well deserved.
Go Blue.



One thought on “Runaway Bride.

  1. Glad you’re sorting yourself (yourselves) out – but cut yourself some slack – giving up the fags drives loads of people to distraction. You deserve a big pat on the back for that alone. (The cigarettes I mean.)

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