Dear Brandon

Dear Brandon,

I tried to give you something you never had. I tried so hard to love the hurt out of you — to show you what safety feels like, to prove that not everyone leaves. But hurt doesn’t just disappear because love arrives, and love can’t do the work someone refuses to face.

I kept pouring myself out, believing my patience could soften your walls, that my effort might erase your scars. I could carry both of our healing.

The truth is, I wasn’t loving you wrong — I was loving you more than you were willing to be loved. And this is where I hold myself accountable: it isn’t my job to fix what you won’t face. It’s not your fault you couldn’t receive it, and it’s not my failure that I offered it.

The lesson is this — you can’t love the hurt out of someone who still clings to it. So I let go, not out of bitterness, but out of acceptance. I see now that healing is a choice, and I can only make that choice for myself.

Maybe that’s the real gift I found — the love I kept trying to give away, I can finally give back to myself.

Sincerely,
Your Little One

Kintsugi

I Am Kintsugi

There’s a Japanese art form called Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired using lacquer mixed with powdered gold. Instead of hiding the cracks, the artist highlights them. The break isn’t something to be ashamed of—it becomes part of the object’s story, making it more valuable than before.

My therapist recently told me, “You’re like Kintsugi pottery.”

I took the illustration she gave me and sat with it. The more I thought about it, the more I understood. I have been shattered—by grief, by loss, by things I never asked for but had to carry anyway. When someone I love died, I cracked in ways I didn’t know were possible. My routines broke. My beliefs broke. My sense of time, of fairness, of safety—splintered. I thought I would never be whole again.

But I’m starting to learn something: healing doesn’t mean going back to who I was. It means honoring who I am now—because of what I’ve lived through.

Even though the cracks are visible, a lot like scars on our skin, the gold inlaid is a sign of healing.

The gold that fills my cracks isn’t glittery or obvious.

Sometimes it’s quiet strength—the ability to get out of bed on days I don’t want to.

Sometimes it’s vulnerability—the way I can now speak openly about my pain.

Sometimes it’s connection—how I can sit with others in their grief because I truly understand it.

I didn’t choose the breaking.

But I am choosing the gold, for now.

And every time I show up for myself—every time I write, cry, or reflect instead of going numb—I’m painting those cracks with something resilient and real.

So no, I’m not “good as new.”

I’m better.

I’m different.

My scars are beautiful.

I am Kintsugi.

🌀 Reader Reflection

If you’re reading this and feel like you’re in pieces—know this: you don’t have to put yourself back together the same way. You can be changed and still be whole. Your cracks don’t make you less; they can become the most honest, human, and beautiful parts of you.

How have your broken places been filled with gold?

I’d love to hear what healing has looked like for you.

Here are a few questions to reflect on:

1. What are the “cracks” in your life that you’ve learned to live with—or even grow from?
2. If you were made of Kintsugi, what would your gold be?
   What strength or lesson has filled your broken places?
3. Has your pain shaped you into someone more compassionate or wise? How?
4. What part of your story do you now see as beautiful, even if it hurt at the time?
5. What does healing look like for you today—not perfect, but real?

Ostracized

I was a ward of the state at the age of 10. I lived with family friends and eventually called them mom and dad. Yet I was referred to as that girl we have custody of. My guardians daughter in law often received gifts for a daughter. I often talked about my guardians adopting me but they never did. At 18 I very much became the black sheep and started to be uninvited to holidays etc.
With my biological family my step grandmother often bought my cousins nice things for Christmas but not my sisters and I. Matter of fact she complained whenever my grandfather wanted to spend money on me.
From the moment I met the mother of my first husband I think she hated me. I’ve said she’s hated me since the moment we shared oxygen. I think it’s safe to say that regardless of the strife within my husband- Adams family that they were close. When we were making the transition from friends/roommates to being in a relationship. He introduced me to his mother, stepfather, sister, and step brother Matthew. I asked permission to call my “Mom” who was really the woman who raised me. My future mother in law thought that was so rude and told everyone so. We left and went home. The next day I think Debbie (his mother) called him accusing me stealing jewelry out of her room apparently I confided in his sister (who was a stranger) that I did it and pawned the jewelry. Adam defended me (that time) and knew I didn’t because I was with him the whole time, I never went to her bedroom (I called mom from the kitchen). Nonetheless I didn’t even have an ID to pawn anything. The hate continued with the family members and Adam wouldn’t defend me if it meant staying on their good side or getting money. There were several incidents and lies. I was even accused of trying to kidnap my own child and brain washing him yet it was her that filed for adoption before Adams body was cold and I hadn’t been notified for weeks he was dead. So by that point Mackenzie was untouchable.  To say certain family members of that family ostracized me is an understatement. I was uninvited to my own baby shower then at last minute she hosted one but too late to invite my friends and family. She took my wedding dress but decided she wouldn’t make HER baby’s christening gown out of that whores dress. Then again at the last minute pushed for us to have the christening away from my family and our friends. Even Adams life long best friend.

In my current marriage- and this may ruffle feathers but it’s my blog. When I first married Rick his family was very nice even though I hadn’t met them. As the years go on they don’t ackowledge our kids on holidays or birthdays or whenever.... except ONE aunt and cousin. Even my stepson seems ungrateful.
This past Christmas I saw a message in a Facebook group asking where to find help giving Christmas for her teen daughter. I know Toys for Tots doesn’t give donations for teens. As a past lesson from my first life where I depended on donations at times so I teach my kids to give. They enjoy it. So this particular girl is jeanette’s age. So we bought almost everything this teen asked for. Then Christmas Eve I was spending Christmas with my out of town guests and we were having Christmas dinner and opening presents which they were grateful for... I got another message someone else needed a gift for their child. I just happen to have duplicates of one of Jeanette’s gifts so I rushed home to find it. Both mothers were full of Thank you’s and hugs- complete strangers to me. My stepson got married April of 2017 so I thought it would be nice if I sent a gift for him and his new bride. It was a thoughtful gift that Rick, myself, and Jeanette decided on. Yet we haven’t even gotten confirmation that he got it much less appreciation for the thought. My best friends children are always extremely grateful for visits and presents. These strangers were appreciative. Yet I’ve heard nothing from my “son?”
Knowing how it feels to be the black sheep. Knowing that my kids don’t have realitives that acknowledge them hardly if at all and seeing people talk about how their own child isn’t given a gift for holidays yet their other child is... just astounds me! You can think what you want of an adult but why make their children pay the debt?
As I said I sat with my dear friends on Christmas Eve and they opened up gifts I think from their great aunt? Probably their uncle as well and I did sit there in think of this is what society would call a blended family how would the relatives treat the blended children and better yet what do the adults do about it? How would you react? How would they react? How should they react? I couldn’t help amongst the joy a dark shroud of that dark place I’ve faced most of my life of not being included in some way shape or form and how that feels to a child? A family is a family whether by blood or love the way God designs it. Would you ask that all your children be included (blood/bonus/love) or no ones included why or why not?
I think I have a hard time with the concept of feeling like the one person...

Feeling the pain. Running from the pain

I have been through a lot. More than you the reader could know or that I let spill out. I say I am an open book but there is a need to keep some pain private...

I guess no one's book is truly open.

Funny thing is this week I have a lot of confrontation with the pain...

I am sure you've heard that Grey's Anatomy is the hot topic for the last few weeks. I have barely missed an episode in 11 seasons... I think in total less than 5. The show can get me wound up but I don't think anything has ever hit me as hard as the last episode... Don't worry no spoilers here...

but a quote does stand out....

Owen to Amelia..
All the stuff you're managing your not supposed to be managing it.
Your Supposed to be feeling it grief loss pain it is normal.

instead of moving through the pain you're running from it.
instead of dealing with being hurt and alone and afraid that this horrible empty feeling is all there is, I run from it.

We are supposed to feel... love, hate, hurt, grieve, and break and be destroyed and rebuild ourselves to be destroyed again.
That is human.
That's being alive
That's the point...

and I watched the Lifetime movie about the Cleveland Abduction so I decided to also read one of the survivors books.. I will get to the other books soon. There are a lot of parallels in my life with Michelle Knight. I don't want to pretend I had even endured the same kind of pain she endured before she was kidnapped or that of while she was held by Ariel Castro. But there is a lot of parallel... many more quotes stood out to me...

Here is one...In order to get past something terrible you have to walk through the pain not around it. It might be messy, it might make you sob but if you let yourself cry long enough you reach the bottom of your tears. I haven't reached the bottom yet, but I know someday I will. ~ Michelle Knight.

Years ago I used to run... I ran a lot. If I felt like things were caving in, or I was beginning to slip, or a person was getting ready to leave like the others I ran. When I decided I wasn't going to put Skylar up for adoption. When Adam had told me not to... I made a promise to her that she would always be able to depend on ONLY me... That I would take care of her... that I wouldn't run... I haven't ran since... I still have the fight or flight thing and the instinct is there to run... run fast as hell for the hills... save yourself from the pain but I fight it and stuff it down. I try to fix the problem that is making me run and if I can't fix it I let God deal with it. When you fight.... even when you slip, fall, or get destroyed it just makes you stronger and faithful... If you run your problems just grow and will end up destroying you anyways. At least feeling pain is being alive... covering the pain is the easy way out. 

This is the last time...

An Open letter...
    To the one who broke my heart,

I am so drained and tired of the power you hold over me. I constantly feel myself coming back to you. Coming back just to be abandoned again. Your worthless apologies keep me tied up. I am tired of thinking for once, maybe one day, you will follow through with your apologies and empty promises. The guilt of you brings you back just for you to disappear again. Do you ever think how I broke behind another slammed door? Do you ever think of the tears I shed because you aren't here? I can't keep putting myself through this. Not just for my sanity but for my kids. I have to be a better parent to them and not get caught up in your lies. I fear you hurting my children with the same fantasies and fairy tales you've led me to believe. Over the years the words to tease me and reel me in again. To make me forgive you just once more just for you to fade away. All I ever wanted was for you to be there for me. So many times I lay hurt and alone and you weren't there.  I am sick and tired all of these games. You've ruined your last chance to keep me around you let me down again. After you leave I am back to being a broken child. You leave such a mess for me to clean up time and time again. There is no reason why I shouldn't be on the top of your list yet time and time again for years and years I am left alone. Maybe you never loved me, I think how can that be? How could you not love me? Why am I so unlovable? Why do you continue to abandon my kids and I. At least the other's could stay away once they left....

This is the last time I am asking you this... If I am not on the top of your list then don't come back anymore. If not to spare my feelings and not kick me while I am down. Don't dare break my children like you've broken me. You will never have that power over them. Ever. One day they will know the truth.

                                                                                                                                      Me...

Found myself at your door,
Just like all those times before,
I’m not sure how I got there,
All roads they lead me here.

I imagine you are home,
In your room, all alone,
And you open your eyes into mine,
And everything feels better,

[Both:]
Right before your eyes,
I’m breaking, no past
No reasons why,
Just you and me.

This is the last time I’m asking you this,
Put my name at the top of your list,
This is the last time I’m asking you why,
You break my heart in the blink of an eye.

[Taylor Swift:]
You find yourself at my door,
Just like all those times before,
You wear your best apology,
But I was there to watch you leave,

And all the times I let you in,
Just for you to go again,
Disappear when you come back,
Everything is better.

[Both:]
When right before your eyes,
I’m aching, run fast,
Nowhere to hide,
Just you and me…

This is the last time I’m asking you this,
Put my name at the top of your list,
This is the last time I’m asking you why,
You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye…

This is the last time you tell me I’ve got it wrong,
This is the last time I say it’s been you all along,
This is the last time I let you in my door,
This is the last time, I won’t hurt you anymore.

Oh, oh, oh,

This is the last time I’m asking you this,
Put my name at the top of your list,
This is the last time I’m asking you why,
You break my heart in the blink of an eye.

This is the last time I’m asking you this, (this is the last time I’m asking you this)
Put my name on the top of your list, (name on the top of your list)
This is the last time I’m asking you why, (this is the last time I’m asking you why)
You break my heart in the blink of an eye. (You break my heart…)

This is the last time I’m asking you this,
Time I’m asking you this,
Time I’m asking you this,
Time I’m asking you this..