It's 11:12pm on Sunday February 15th as I start writing this. I'm lying on the couch where I have been known to sleep, sniffling and taking deep calming breaths after... some very good tears. These tears started with one thought and emotion and just... traveled so far and so fast across an emotional solar system that was this weekend. A weekend I realized... very well may have been the best of my life so far. And I honestly want to write about it so that I don't forget it and to try and maybe capture an emotional snapshot to come back to and smile at. And as I wondered how I'd write about this best weekend, I started crying. And as I rode the ups and downs of this weekend and my life through tears, I realized the perfect place to write about it. And maybe figure out why I was brough to tears because at this point, I'm still not too sure. 

My weekend started, as all best weekends do, on Friday afternoon. I got Ole' Tommy bike up and running with brand new gears and he hadn't been this good in over a year. Me and my former neighbor, now good friend that I hadn't seen in a bit had plans to go dancing, but they had a long week, so the outing was canceled. But! She called and said lets just get "1 drink". I had never gotten ready to go out faster than that and then I hopped on Tommy and we were off into the night! Zipping down streets I used to ride many, MANY moons ago. Phone playing old music and me carving and grinning and zooming through the night. There was live music and Karaoke that night. 1 beer turned into 3, I wasn't going to sing and then I sand "La Bamba", we breathed deep and we talked deeper and when the brewery closed, we got 2 more tall cans to go and we ended up back on her front step just talking and validating and cursing the patriarchy and hoping for a better world. Making plans and thanking each other for being friends. And then it was 2am. Best Valentines Day ever and it had only just started. 

I woke up pretty early and then went to yoga (at the same brewery) where my wonderful friends and I stretched and laughed and breathed deep and made plans for that following Monday. Then it was off to another friend's place to share with them my corn wine recipe. Then it was off to my favorite State Park, (if not my favorite place ever) and we walked old trails and got to know each other more and we walked new trails and then ended up back at the car, but didn't want to leave yet. So, we found our way to a floating dock and sat at the edge, bobbing with the waves as we talked in circles about what was on our minds. We made plans to come back to the park and we also had great silent moments just going up and down with the wind made waves. It was really, really nice. And then we went back to my friend's place to finish the corn wine and then even though we made plans to go out dancing with different groups tonight, we said we'd rendezvous at the same club later that night and we were VERY excited to do so!

A different friend who I hadn't seen in months finally had caught up ("enough") with his work and didn't want to be productive that night so I told him we should meet up, but I stated that I really wanted to go dancing that night. He replied over text how tired he was and how he really didn't have the energy to go dancing that night. I'll be honest and say I was a little sad about that because I have been wanting to dance with this friend for about 2 years at that point, as well as sad to cancel on me and my other friend's rendezvous. But he had been so busy with his work and I completely understood and told him that I really just wanted to spend time with him that night, so I suggested I bring a VHS of my favorite movie, and we just stay in and watch it together. He was also a fan of the (rather obscure and relatively unknown) film, so he was excited and, honestly so was I. I was going to get to see my friend and watch my favorite movie, how could my night get any better? 

As I was just about getting ready to head to his place (and message my other friend about sadly canceling our rendezvous), he sends a text saying, "Let's go Dancing". I wish I could have seen the smile on my face when I read that text. I grabbed my backpack with my toothbrush and VHS player and got to his so quickly! On the drive to the club, I told him I wouldn't be drinking and I may have to leave the club because a friend of mine was on a date with a guy and I was her ride out of there if she needed and emergency pick up. The friend I was with said that's totally okay and that he wasn't drinking either and that if my other friend needed that emergency pick up, he would be going with me to pick her up too. (Genuinely a great guy.) We get to downtown and wow it was crowded, but we didn't even have to do a loop until we saw someone getting in their car to leave and we got a parking spot! What Luck! A short walk to the club and it wasn't even 9pm yet so the DJ wasn't playing and no one was dancing, so we sit and wait til 9. And then I realize that me and my friend had met almost 2 years ago and I wanted to piece together how and when we originally met. It was fun because he reminded me of outings and details I forgot and I reminded him of events that he forgot and it was nice to reminisce. Then the music started and we headed to the dance floor!

Now... when me and my friend met almost 2 years prior, he told me he had been trained in different dance styles and he had a good sense of rhythm and music. He's so humble and never bragged about his skills or abilities, but I had been wanting to go dancing with him the entire time to see his rhythm and moves in action since I met him and long story short... he did not disappoint. I was a casual dancer who could never really "be lead" with a dance partner and honestly, I loved dancing with myself, so I wasn't sure how dancing with him would be for me, but again... he did not disappoint! We had SO MUCH Fun! We danced close, we danced apart, we danced fast and slow and silly and seriously, and the entire time, I genuinely was just... so in the moment. We took breaks and talked to new people and familiar faces and club hopped to rendezvous with my other friend and we found each other! And we met the new group she was with and the Energy was SO Great! We danced in a group and we danced alone and then me and my dance partner danced together again and then our knees were hurting and I was getting cold because I was hardly wearing anything (and I looked SO GOOD!). But we said our goodbyes to my friends and her group, and me and my dance partner headed back to the car and back to his place. 

We relaxed a bit after all of the dancing, he made amazing spaghetti, we watched my favorite movie on VHS! Then after another burrito each and a very memorable teeth brushing, we went to sleep. 

The next morning was an hour of snoozing his alarm, some half-asleep chit chat, and then coffee and goodbyes. I also responded to my other friend who was on a date and she did not need an emergency pick up. I asked her when her and I could meet up and talk about out nights and she said "today?" And so I picked her up, we went and got brunch and caught each other up. And what is spoken at brunch stays at brunch, but I'll say this... I can and will talk for hours with my friends because I love them and I love to share in their joys and sit next to them in their sorrows.

But after another great day talking to a friend about a great day, I found myself back on this couch, responding to texts at the end of the day and doing a bit of doom scrolling on instagram. And then a reel starts up about an adult meeting their child self. At first the adult feels they disappointed their younger self because they did not achieve all of the big dreams the know they had. But the child self is just amazed that their adult self has their own space and can make grilled cheeses and can drive. And the adult self slowly recognizes that they achieved so much just by living their life.

I closed my laptop and laid out my blanket on my couch. Laid down my head and suddenly felt the tears. I thought of my own younger self experience and thought about my own life and realized how excited my younger self would be to look forward to feeling such an incredible feeling of friendship. Out of everything my younger self wanted... was feeling supported, and loved, and a sense of friendship so that they would never feel alone. 

And I find myself crying again now, realizing why I'm crying. I achieved my childhood dream. 

And I'm so proud of myself. I'm so thankful for my childhood self to dream of something so worthwhile and true. Something I remember not feeling like I had, but something I knew I could. As long as I believed that I could. I became me. Flawed, broken, scarred, and caring, strong, beautiful me. And my friendships are a testament to that. 

So.... long story short, this has for sure been the best weekend I have had so far. Best Valentines day I've ever had so far. And it's because of my friends and the friendships I am so thankful to be a part of. And the realization that the life I am living now, is a dream come true. 

*deep breath* 

*smile*

Thanks.

Take care. ~Enjoy

A few weeks or so ago, I was cooking a delicious meal and was in a very good mood. Top of the world kinda mood. And when I'm feeling a particular kind of happy and carefree, I think about what I love and am thankful for. And every once in a while, my mind goes to the thought of my Grandma Dorothy and my Cat Athena. Those two will always be a place of safety for me and my feelings. Safe enough for me to cry. Even just for a little bit. 

But just yesterday... I found myself in a different happy and carefree mood, not at the top of the world, but on top of a log with a good friend. And what else is there to do in safe place, on top of a log with a good friend... but talk. And when you feel safe enough to talk about anything with someone, you sometimes find yourself feeling very vulnerable. And that's okay.  So a few tears were shed on top of that log with a good friend. 

And among the tears and words shared on top of that log, was the idea that "There can't be a log without the life and death of a tree." Thinking about that phrase and that log and my grandmother and my cat... I came to the realization of the connection between safety and vulnerability. It seems obvious to me on the surface of the idea, but there's a deeper... something, to it. Can there be vulnerability without safety? I'm not sure. But... I'm currently not in a safe place. So I'm not going to think about it too hard. At least not right now. 

T.C. ~E 

I cried writing a letter to someone because I got the wonderful opportunity of fully realizing (again) that friendship has always been the most fulfilling relationship that I've ever experienced. <333 

It was the second to last weekend of probabaly the hardest semester I ever had. I was stressed and honestly, I hadn't cried in a month, but I really wanted to because I was so very very stressed. 

I was working on an essay about "The Packhorse Librarians". In the later half of the 1930's a group of women delivering and retriving Library books for the seculded impoverished Appalacian Mountain communites. My kind of librarians. Inspiring stuff. It's great when you get to write an essay about a subject of you choosing, but it was still an essay that I had to write and it was a stressful finals week. 

I had already canceled a lot of plans with people that I really wanted to spend time with and had generally just been going through the struggles. 

I was ripe for a good cry.

When I was watching a documentary on the subject, a song came on as just packgroud music. It was just a few seconds of a catchy and somber bluegrass tune with a soulful singer. Telling the tale of the packhorse Librarians. It only played for a little bit in the documentary, but I got enough of the lyrics to look it up an find the full song online

"Book Women of Troublesome Creek" by Ruby Friedman Orchesta on Youtube. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHtLCF3UtEw&list=RDfHtLCF3UtEw&start_radio=1

(There is also a book of the same name, but the link above is to the song.)

And Damn. The lyrics, the tone, the message. I felt the tears well up in me almost immediately. I felt something powerful as I listened to this song. As a librarian, as a woman, as a strong and struggling soul myself. I highly recommend anyone reading this to listen to the song. I genuinely could not capture in words, the experience this song was for me. 

Took me a while to get to writing this one beacuse I still had a week of finals left, but I wanted to make sure that I wrote this tory down. Not just because I cried and this is where I write own every time that I cry, but because the song and the story of the packhorse librarians is a story and song worth sharing. That's all for now. Take care, y'all. Enjoy 

Just got off a call with a professor who told me that I'm a good student. I've heard that line my whole life and all I think about is how many classes I have quite literally failed. How many assignments I have procrastinated on and waited until the smallest possible amount of time to try and complete until it's due. And also, how many assignments and classes I just gave up on and wasted entire semesters worth of effort and stress. Before I started this "wasn't ready to cry today" section of this blog, I remember earlier this year when I learned that I passed every class I took the semester prior, I cried. I haven't passed an entire semesters worth of classes since I was in middle school. And I struggled back then hearing that "good student" title. What makes a good student? I don't want to be a good student. I just want my name on a stupid piece of paper that says I did all the requirements to earn a college degree. And I only want that stupid piece of paper because I apparently need one for the jobs I want to do. I tried reframing my attitude about school and approach it as me being a "learner" not a "student". I love learning. I LOVE IT. So why am I a good student with more failed classes than passed ones?

Why do so many conversations with my academic advisors and instructors end with me in tears? My instructor arranged the aforementioned meeting because one of my assignments had "red flags" about possibly sounding like AI generative crap. If I used that AI crap, maybe my grades might be better, but I don't want to cheat my way through school. I've proudly failed knowing that all the work I did or didn't do, was my own. Sure, I typed up that assignment less than an hour before it was due and I just followed the prompt. "What did I learn, why is it important, how does it apply to me?" And now I'm finding out that my crap writing is starting to sound like the AI crap I swore to never use. I don't know how to feel about that. 

And now I feel myself slowly sliding into the place of "screw it, I'll just fail". Because if I suddenly do better, what does that prove? That I am a good student? I don't want to be a good student. *deep breath* But I do want my stupid piece of paper. So, I guess I just have to be something I don't want to be. Something I apparently already am. "A good student". 

I probably have some trauma with the phrase. And I should absolutely go to therapy more than I do. There's much worse problems to have, but as of this moment, as of the last 29 years I've been a "good student". This is mine. And I want that stupid piece of paper with my name on it and I intend to either earn it my way, or not at all. Who am I trying to prove something to? What am I trying to prove? That I can get my stupid piece of paper. And I'm trying to prove it to the jobs that tell me I need one. Maybe I should reframe my idea about my college degree and not call it "a stupid piece of paper". I'll think on that. I don't want to betray my ideology that a college degree is inherently pointless. It has value. Obviously. But just telling myself to "follow the prompt and spit something out" has gotten me as far as it has academically. 

Maybe I can reframe it about learning. If I love learning, then the assignments I have to complete are proof that I learned it. Yes the assignments are proving to my instructors that I learned it. But... maybe they prove something to me too. Maybe I can learn something from the assignments and not just "do them". Maybe that's it. I don't see the value of the assignments. I can find value in doing anything. Dang. Not finding value in completing my assignments is a betrayal of my ideology. *deep breath* 

Okay. So, I think I definitely went off on a tangent from my "good student" trauma, but... I feel a little better. And that's the value of this blog. At least for me. T.C. ~E

A friend of mine sent me a 4 minute long voice message to me and it took me a few days to even listen because I felt like I wasn't in a mental or emotional place to be able to listen and "be there for someone". 

When I finally did pause the background noise and put down the chores I've been putting off... I still didn't feel ready to be able to listen and "be there for someone", but... A friend of mine reached out. And ready or not... I wanted to at least try. Because reaching out is hard and being reached out to is such a gift. And I didn't want them to feel like I wasn't there for them because if they called and said... "Hey. Are you there?" No matter what I'm going through... I'm going to do my damn hardest to say "Yes, I'm here".

And as soon as I started listening to my friend's 4 minute recap of their life and their feelings and thoughts as of late... I didn't necessarily feel like I could "be there for them", but suddenly... I felt like I was "there with them".

And I started recording my own voice message response because I wanted them to know that I listened and that I was there for them... And I immediately started crying and trying to find the right words to say to help or to sympathize or something... 

But I was right about my initial feeling of not being able to "be there for someone". 

I'm going through a lot right now and that's okay. I don't always have to be there for other people. I will try my damned hardest to be there ready or not if someone calls... But for now, I gotta be there for me. I gotta be here for me. 

But I also don't have to be alone. Loneliness is a whole nother thing, but being alone... that is something I know I can help people with. 

Because I don't have to do anything "for" anyone, all I have to do is anything, or nothing, "with" someone. 

That's something my Cat Athena taught me. Her and I did a lot of nothing together. But she was there. And that meant everything. 

So to my friends and fellow good human (and feline, and canine, ect...) beings out there. I will always try nearly as hard as I can to be there for others that may need help. But I know I may not be able to do much for anyone sometimes. And that's okay. 

But one thing I'm certain I can always be, is there with someone. 

Because it took me a bit to realize, and it took my friend reaching out and me listening, (ready to listen or not). But... I now feel like my friend is right here with me. I could scream or I could be silent. But someone will hear it as long as I feel like they're with me. And as long as I reach out. 

Because reaching out is the first step to having someone there with you. 

And you just responding is letting them know you're there with them. 

So thanks for reaching out. I'm with ya. 

T.C. ~Enjoy 

I went to an INCREDIBLE wedding this past weekend out of state. I got to the area early and took every opportunity I could to spend time with the bride and groom who I hadn't seen in 2 years at that point. 2 days before the wedding... between helping the bride fold laundry for the honeymoon and just cherishing being in the presence of a good friend, I was asked to read the vows and make sure one person's vows weren't longer than the others and I took my responsibility very seriously. 

So, after reading the first line of the bride's vows and immediately getting misty eyed, I took a breath... *deep breath*.... and told myself this... "You need to read these vows and review them as a scholar. As and academic. Read these words with your head, not your heart." 

So, I decided I would read them both back-to-back and ball my eyes out the entire time and then later go back and fulfil my responsibility as "Vow reviewer". 

I then proceeded to cry from the first line of her vows to the last line of his and Oh my gosh... I was not ready to cry that day. But at least that means I wouldn't cry at the ceremony, because I already knew what they were going to say, right? (*shakes head*)

But it got me thinking about Vows and how much I love, and cry, when I hear vows. 

I'll be honest and say... I don't like it when people make me promises. It's ironic as a writer how strongly I feel about the sentiment that "words are cheap". But I feel like Promises don't need to be made if a person genuinely intends to do whatever it is they are promising. They don't have to say anything... they will just do it. And if they don't do it, then... there ya go. I can appreciate it, but a promise to me is just hopeful words of something that hasn't happened until it either does or doesn't. But.... I LOVE VOWS!!!!!!

I genuinely believe that if I don't cry during the vows at a wedding, it's not going to work out. I've cried at nearly every vow exchange (as an adult) I've been to, except for my own vows and... well... that didn't work out, so my belief still stands. And Vows fundamentally are promises two people make to each other about the rest of their lives. "To have and to hold... in sickness and in health". And, weddings aside, I typically roll my eyes at most mushy stuff because I'm a damaged, jaded, realists who's just seen and felt too much and has my walls up super high. But! I will probably always love wedding vows. And after reading the vows of my friends and hearing them 2 days later (and absolutely crying all over again), I think I might have figure out why I love vows so much. 

Vows aren't just promises, they are stories. Stories about where the love began, where the love is, and where it will go. And it is just... one of the most powerful and impactful stories that some people may never actually put into words their entire life, but if you're going to tell that story once in your life... it BETTER be on your wedding day, looking at the person you love, have loved, and will love. The person that is the story.

Goodness marriage is such a promise, but it's also a story. A story who's promises stem from deep rooted sentiments of first dates, first kisses, first moments of realizing you've met someone you are willing to make a promise with. To live a story with. And it's exciting, but it's also scary. Which is where I feel like the tears come from. It is an incredible vulnerability for someone to vow one's life and love to someone else. I am so scared of being that vulnerable myself, so whenever I see it, I am moved and inspired and just happy at the bravery that only love can instill and that only vows can express. 

That's what makes them more than promises. That's what makes them Vows. <333

Take care, y'all. ~Enjoy

I cried 3 times now since the last time I wrote about it here on my blog. 2 of those 3 times was for the ame reason and about the same person. And that reason was being so thankful to have someone in my life as a friend and so scared to feel like I may have lost them. 

The good news is, I did not lose my friendship with my friend. And I am so grateful I didn't. Because I would have lost a bit of myself if I lost them. I almost kind of made that happen to myself and thankfully, I remembered who I was. I'm a lot of things and those of you who know me know how much I love a good deep and profound metaphor. And one thing I love to consider myself is "a library". A collection of stories and information put together form all of the influences and experiences I've encountered throughout my life.  And I got A LOT of stories. But along with each story that I have and hold dear to my heart, I have friends that aren't just parts in my stories, or props to a character I play. My friends are the reasons why I choose to live the most incredible stories. 

I recently began consciously asking myself, "what is it all for?", "Why am I doing any of this?", "What is it all about?". And for me personally, my mind and heart and motivations for getting up every day is to connect. That's what friendships are. That's what stories are. That's what life is. Connection. 

And sure, I can spend my whole life writing down stories to connect myself to the future so others after me can read my words. Or I could spend my whole life reading the stories of the past and connect to those who have lived before me. But... What's the point of it all if we don't connect with not just through reading or writing stories but living them. Being a part of them. Joining stories with other people and their stories and getting to know who they are. What their story is.

Right. This is a post about what I cried about. 

I cried earlier this past month because of how powerful and intense I felt loved and understood and connected with someone. And more than a month later after I felt so connected and loved and understood by my friend, I cried again because for just a short second, I thought I had lost them. Their love, their understanding, and their connection. And I felt like I had been the one that didn't share that love, understanding, and connection and well... I still feel like I didn't, but That's okay because I have the most incredible friend who loves, understands and cherishes me and our friendship as much as I do. And that's so so scary, but also, so so wonderful to have a connection so strong that I fear losing that connection. And I am just so so grateful that I did not lose that connection. That I didn't lose that friend. And that I didn't lose myself. Because losing a friend is losing a part of yourself. And sometimes it happens. But the same also goes in reverse. Losing yourself can also mean that you may lose a friend and again, it happens. But I'm just grateful that, at least this time, that's not how this story ends. 

I usually do my best to be upfront and honest about the fact that I have "anger management issues". And it's really validating for people to respond with "Really? You? I never would have guessed" because it shows that I seem to be doing a pretty good job managing the anger that I know I still absolutely feel. Because I do still feel anger. So. So much. And it's horrifying because I know how consuming and violent it can present itself. How horrifying and violent I can present myself. And I did so today. And I am crying because of it. And so here I am. Trying to figure it all out. 

Because that's not who I am. I refuse to let my anger, and my actions define me as an entire person. The whole world could see me as monster. But I know I am more than someone who fails to breathe. Who fails to think rationally about my actions. And who fails to recognize and remove myself from stressful and triggering situations before I yell and pull at my hair and pace around uncontrollably and cry and just get caught in a cycle of anger and shame for feeling my feelings and engaging in behaviors, I know I don't want to engage in. 

I did so today. I blew up and I hadn't done so in almost 4 years. Incredible. Not just incredible with how long or how effectively I have managed my anger, but how quickly I switched back and reverted to something I thought I was past. This episode didn't last long, and it wasn't as bad as it was before, but... I always knew I was still capable of these behaviors and that I still had anger within me. *Deep breath*

Trauma takes time and effort to heal from. And it may take a lot of crying and a lot of mistakes and a lot of feeling feelings that maybe we don't want to feel, but when we do feel these feelings... When I feel these feelings, I intend to take advantage of the opportunity to not just feel them but understand why I'm feeling them. To recognize my triggers, define my pain, and process my emotions fully so hopefully, I can do better next time for myself. 

Because I know I am more than an angry person. I believe that in my heart of hearts because despite how angry I get at the world and at others and myself... I still care about the world. I still care about others, and I still care about myself. Finding the balance of caring about someone who you feel anger towards will be a balance I will probably spend my entire life trying to find. Because I shouldn't care about someone at the cost of caring for myself, but I refuse to be a person who genuinely refuses to care for another human being. Because if I can rationalize not caring at all about another human being... then that opens the possibility of me being able to not care at all about myself. And I refuse to get there. For others, and for myself. Because I believe that I can find that balance and even more importantly I believe I can spend my whole life trying to find it. Because no matter what... I believe even on the most basic level... We have to care about each other because we have to care about ourselves. Take care, Y'all. ~Enjoy

Wow I really needed that. I was driving back home from dropping off Oliver at the train station. And there's something about that 30 minute drive late at night on that particular stretch of freeway of the 60 East that just really gets me to feel something. I remember crying on that exact drive at least once or twice before, but this time... Well this time I knew I would get the chance to write about it. 

It was 4 songs. "Drink With You" by-Brett Young", "Just like Heaven" by- The Cure, "Tequila" by- Dan + Shay, and "Take On me" by- A-Ha. Back-to-back, in that order. I had never heard "Drink With You" before today and with most new songs I hear for the first time, I didn't even catch all of the lyrics, but when a song is good enough, the music is all you need to understand exactly what story it's telling. I've been thinking a lot lately about my younger days and who I was because I'm currently working on my first book and it's mainly a collection of old letters I wrote almost a decade ago. And what I'm realizing the more I read those old words I wrote and the person I used to be is... what really defined me back then, and maybe what really defines us all at certain points in our lives... are the feelings we feel and how they affect us. With the other 3 songs, I remember, not just listening to them when I was in the Coast Guard up in Alaska or out in Jersey, but I remember the feelings I felt while I was listening to them. Who I was thinking of while I sang those lyrics and heard those melodies. I could listen to each of those songs separately and not shed a tear, but that's one of my favorite things about the radio is that each song you stumble upon while driving along and turning that radio dial is a gift. And I could have changed the station to not listen to each of those songs, but... with everything I've been feeling lately, I think I knew that the real gift I was given tonight was the chance to feel something. The chance to cry. *Deep Breath* And gosh darn it I really, really wanted to. 

Because the truth is, what all of these songs remind me of is being in love as a young 17 year old kid. And I didn't hear these songs while I was in love, I heard them after I had lost that love. And that relationship was more than 10 years ago now and I'm old enough to understand that those feelings of love at 17 were never meant to be or last and that's okay. I actually still know the person that had my heart at the time and saw them barely a week before this night and I'd say we're friends. And it took a long time, but I know that I'm someone different and they are someone different and that love that I once felt can never be felt again, nor should it be felt again. And that's a really good feeling to understand that. 

But what I will always get the chance to feel as fresh and as full as I did over a decade ago, is longing to feel that love again and knowing I never can. It's genuinely something special and powerful that I probably have learned to enjoy more than the actual love that I longed for. And that's because while the relationship was barely a year, the longing after that relationship was nearly a decade. And I did my best to find new love during those years, and I feel like I genuinely did. But all of the songs I heard that reminded me of that longing will always be associated with that person, that love, and that longing. 

And I think what really gets me to feel so good about crying to these songs and remembering that old love and longing is the realization... that I moved on. I kept going on after my young 17-year-old heart was shattered. At the time I didn't know how I would ever move on, but the simple fact that I can recognize and embrace these feelings of longing in these old and even new songs is proof that I did indeed survive what I remember feeling like was the end of the world. I remember feeling like those feelings were all that I were and ever would be and I was wrong. *smile* and I'm so glad that I was. Because it shows that whatever I may be feeling now or whatever I may feel in the future can and should be felt to the fullest. And I know that even if it feels like the world is ending and I have no idea how I'll ever more on, that's okay. I don't need to know. Because I'll find a way to survive and one day I'll hear a song, look back, and feel those feelings again. And get to recognize how far I've come and that nothing could ever stop me from living my life, and feeling my feelings, to the fullest. Take care, Y'all. ~Enjoy

"I will be Fierce!" written by Bea Birdsong and illustrated by Nidhi Chanani, is a story about a young girl who wakes up and says "Today, I will be Fierce"! The story, narrated from her perspective, is her interpretation of a seemingly ordinary day going to school. But her imagination is what is inspires and fuels her determination to be fierce. Every sentence is a declaration of what she will do and how she imagines it. At the bus stop as the smallest child, she stands on the bench "I will dare to walk with the giants". "I will stand up for my beliefs" and "I will build new bridges" as she makes friends with an excluded classmate alone at lunch. At Show-and-Tell..."I will claim my victory", "I will conquer my fears", "I will make my voice heard", "I will be the hero of my own story" As she stand up and shares what she made with pride. And to end the book "...tomorrow, I will be fierce again."

I feel like this book got me to cry because I was, and still very much am, this child. A child that believes that a favorite outfit can be "armor". Standing tall at the crowded bus stop is walking "among giants". And putting my authentic self out there in the world is me being the "hero of my story". It is no secret that life can be so hard, full of fear, and just be too real sometimes. So seeing a young girl do what I have always done and still do, truly hugged me and my inner child in such a beautiful embrace. Ferocity being portrayed not just as physical strength, but determination to learn, to create, to be kind, and to be vulnerable... it's such a stellar book that inspired me and gets me emotional knowing how many more young children will be inspired by it too. 

I highly recommend this book for young children and to anyone who may be feeling scared or uninspired with themselves or in life. Check it out at your local library or support the author and illustrator and purchase your own copy. I will absolutely buy a copy for myself if I ever see one at a local bookstore. Be fierce y'all. <333 T.C. ~E