This time last year, I was walking on eggshells, desperately trying to keep the facade of a life I had created going. I wanted to crawl under the covers and never come back out. I ended up at some industry party, and was in bed before ten pm, thinking of all of the stuff I was going to have to overcome this year.
And then January rolled around. An act of what can only be fate snapped me out of my haze of mediocrity. I had to do something about my life. And I had to do it fast. January 23,2014 was the day I took my freedom back. I walked away from my job that was slowly killing me, I ran away from a relationship that had taken two of my what would have been vivacious years away, one that was more fake than the ring I later found out was phony on my ring finger. January 28...the day I threw it out of the window of my car, and never looked back. My precious friend, Bud sent me down the street to get a cup of coffee while "he" collects his things from my home. After one latte, and the first side of Exile On Main Street, my home is safe again.
February rolled around and found me in Louisville with my Beatle family. I drank, I danced, I remembered that girl that was inside of me...the one whose sparkle I had dulled because it was blinding people who wanted me to burn out. I remember a moment where I sat back with one of my adopted mother figures, Carla, and recounted my last few months. She told me she was proud of me, and that this would be my year. A week later, my friend Heather and I took a road trip to Chicago...because we could. Having newfound freedom after being under a thumb for two long years was a breath of fresh (yet icy) air. We met up with old friends and spent a much needed weekend just being us. The weight lifted off of me on the way home with each wedding vendor I called to cancel.
My first photo shoot as a free woman. My photographer friend who shot this was trying to get the right shot..."You belong to no one." He said...right before he snapped this. I've never felt so powerful in my life.
March...three weeks from the date that I had sat with Carla to discuss how this would be "my year" and I get the message. Carla is sick. Very sick. I spend the next two in various states of being drunk. Late March rolls around and finds me backstage at the Ryman to see Crosby, Stills, and Nash...due to having to miss them the previous year because of a jealous partner who didn't like me getting any attention. What did I wear? I wear what was supposed to be my wedding dress. Seriously. I catch the eye of a few people backstage for wearing such an unusual dress, start talking about music, get to meet everyone, and the next thing you know, I'm being invited to come to LA with them.
April found me on a rooftop in Los Angeles, sipping vodka and listening to legends play. I clutch the backstage pass around my neck and wonder how this happened. My feet touched the sand on Venice Beach and I wanted to cry. People whose music I've admired for years are buying me dinner and drinks...people who made me feel like I was never alone. I fly home and spend what was supposed to be my wedding day in a Honky Tonk listening to my friends play "I'll Feel A Whole Lot Better" and how right they were.
A week after, I was at a show, singing along to Humble Pie songs when a guy with crazy hair and a terrible mustache catches my eye. He knows all of the words...just like me. Stop looking. Ignore it. I went home to log into Facebook, and mustache boy is in the corner on my "People You May Know" with his photo and his name---Nathan Cox... and the next thing you know, "I'm sitting across from him at a coffee shop, laughing and chattering on about nothing, and everything. We spoke of books, and records, and films, our friends, and how I was going to see my friend, Carla the next day to go take care of her after her surgery. Nathan and I spoke for six hours that night. And we haven't shut up since.
I go back to Louisville to see Carla and her partner, Jim...my adopted parents. Carla has just had surgery, and is attached to machines. She still wants me to notice her new sparkly nails, and is more interested in my life, and about the date I just went on. We binge watched "Orange Is The New Black", I vacuumed the house, and slept on a pallet of pillows and blankets at the foot of their bed...just like a true kid coming to visit Mom and Dad would.
May was spent trying to find out what was wrong with my newfound knight in shining Levi's...and with him telling me that I was indeed loveable, worthy, and that he wasn't going to go anywhere. I will never be able to repay him for his patience. Once again, I ended up in Louisville for Abbey Road on the River, where my entire family that had adopted me celebrated my freedom. New and old friends welcomed me with open arms, and took care of me when I couldn't take care of myself. I went to visit Carla in the hospital. She was the color of a carrot, and stuck in bed, but she still wanted me to notice her sparkly slippers, and how she had blinged her own IV bag. That was the last time I saw her alive.
June.
I come back from my music festival to move someone in to the other bedroom of my home.
Things are beginning to look up, when my car gets broken into, and I have to stop the robbery...and then someone I thought was a friend, took every single piece of furniture I had, appliances, and clothes, and left me with a house that looked like a tornado went through it. This leads me to Craigslist in search of a free couch...I found my Arrow instead.
Our first day together. Me and my Arrow.
The friend who takes my furniture away just so happens to be the person who has the lease on my house. The house is tainted, and I am forced to cut my losses and run. I spend the next few nights on my friend Gary's couch...and then with Nathan who held me when I cried so hard I shook. I felt like I was drowning. He held me in his arms and said "Let me take care of you..." a statement no one has ever said to me before. It was always me taking care of others...And right after that, I get the news...
I met adopted family member Grace in the middle of nowhere, Kentucky for Carla's funeral. The night before I went to say goodbye, I watched the last episode of "Orange Is The New Black" since she would never be able to finish it...and painted a layer of glitter on my nails, because that's what she would have wanted. I said my final goodbye to the woman who took me on as a daughter in her heart, and bragged about me like I was hers...her "munchkin" she called me. And two weeks later, I was back in Louisville, behind a drum kit after a huge break from playing, jamming with our friends...for Carla. Giving her the goodbye that she would have wanted.
July, another rock n roll family member had to have surgery, and needed help, and company. So, I headed to New Jersey to see Joe through a knee replacement. We spend a lot of time discussing our purpose in life, and he tells me to answer my calling when it comes. I ended up seeing both coasts of the country within three months because of my friend needing a new knee.
I come home, and am scattered. What am I doing? Why aren't I as fulfilled as I want to be? I took my leap of faith, and no net had appeared. I had written out what I desired out of a job. Why hadn't I been and to manifest it yet?? Something inside of me tells me to go once again on Craigslist and look in the job section...
August 1 was my first day at my dream job. It met all of the requirements on my checklist. Things begin to turn around. I am excited to wake up. I begin to get on a regular sleep, exercise, and diet routine. I am surrounded by creative and driven women that are beautiful inside and out. I finally feel like I know why everything else I ever tried for didn't work. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.
September, I turned 23 and breathed a sigh of relief that I managed to survive. I am reminded of my purpose, and am surrounded by people who love me. It was the first birthday since nine years old that didn't end in tears. It also is the month that I filmed with my boss, and my perfect little shop, an episode of Oprah. Seriously. Nine months prior, I was considering sleeping until I turned fifty, and now, Oprah's crew was clipping a microphone on me. Talk about a 180!
October, I managed to end up in a hotel with some of my closest friends/chosen family with Denny Laine from The Moody Blues and Wings. We spend a weekend listening to ridiculously talented people play the greatest music ever, and stay up to watch the sunrise. I see Paul Mccartney in concert, and end up backstage. I sit back and say "Thank You" under my breath at least a dozen times. Thank you for my crazy little life.
With Denny, and then Brian backstage.
November brings the first Thanksgiving that didn't bring on an anxiety attack since I was ten. Nathan's mom made a vegan thanksgiving feast, and I felt truly loved, and wanted by a family that wasn't one I had made for the first time. It was beautiful. I cried, but only out of gratitude and happiness.
And here we are, December. I'm in nowhere near the same place I was in this time last year. I wake up in a home that's filled with love, instead of one where I sleep on the couch, and mutter under my breath. I wake up with the sweetest little dog under my legs, and the formerly mustached Mr. Cox next to me, who manages to still look cute that early, and who every morning,without fail, rolls over, puts his arm around me, kisses me on the cheek, and says "Good morning, gorgeous. I love you." The man who saved me, and the dog who rescued me snuggle me into a love sandwich. Every. Single. Day. I get up at an hour in which I used to just now be getting to bed. I actually eat breakfast instead of drinking two pots of coffee alone. I do my makeup in a bathroom that is always crowded with two people attempting to get ready to start their day, but I will take that over the cold and damp bathroom that I used to hide in to avoid the happenings in my old house. I get to go to the most fun, rewarding, and creatively inspiring environment for me in which I get to help women who felt like I did in January feel like they are good enough, pretty enough...I get to go to my glorious yoga house and let my body know how much I appreciate it in rooms full of like minded individuals. I now have fantastic friends at the push of a button that could not be more perfect. (New friends, Daisy and Amanda!! How did I ever live without you??) I get to go home, and live my life. How incredibly lucky I am!
My life is not at all like I had imagined it would be in 2014. It's so so much more better than I ever could have dreamed. I am constantly reminded of how everything happens for a reason, and that I am never wrong in following my gut. I know now, more than ever, that a life filled with gratitude will do more for you than one filled with resentment. Oprah has this thing she writes in every issue of her magazine..."What I Know For Sure" and what I know for sure is that 2014 was easily the most difficult year so far that I have experienced. I also know that these experiences were lessons, and I can't be thankful enough for all of those lessons. And if I had to do it all over again? I would. Just to end up here. I would gladly go through hell and high water to get to where I am now. 2014, thank you for your challenges, your obstacles, your struggle you threw at me.
Because in return, I also got your blessings, your memories I will cherish for life, and the knowledge that I was stronger than I ever thought imaginable.
That is truly what I thank you for.
I would like to dedicate my 2015 to Mama Carla, who lived her life unapologetically as herself. She never worried what anyone else thought, and never met a stranger. This year, my resolution is to live my life more like her, and to always try and make her proud of the woman I have become. Because I know she still watches.
Bring it on, 2015. I'm ready.
