Year 4, Week 49: Waiting for Our Baby

I’ll never forget receiving the message that day, over a year ago. It was textless – a sound file. When I increased the volume on my phone, I heard them: strong, rapid, healthy heart beats. One of my best friends from high school – a woman I look up to, live life beside, and never let slip too far in my rearview mirror – was sharing the news of her pregnancy!

This wasn’t the first time I had experienced a pregnancy announcement; in fact, I’ve been able to celebrate with my family and many of my family’s friends throughout my life. With this announcement, though, some unexpected emotions manifested.

Let’s be real: I do not want to admit this, but it’d be a dishonest reflection if I did not. And it wouldn’t show the enormous heart transformation that has occurred since then.

So here it is.

The amount of envy that infiltrated what should have been a purely joyous moment was deeply disturbing to me. It was the first time that it had happened, and I know why.

This was my peer in just about every sense of the word: though she was a grade above me in high school, we were track and field teammates, both ambitious students, and subscribed to the notion that women should help each other rather than create more drama for each other. I knew the moment she called to tell me about the guy she had met that she was going to marry him: “It’s in your voice. The love in your voice. This is your guy.” We got to see them get married on such a gorgeous day and now it made complete sense that they would be welcoming a baby into their lives!

But Cody and I had been trying for a baby for a year at that point, and the tears that I tried to swallow when my friend sent me that message were really awful. The sudden feeling that it was somehow unfair was the worst. Unfair? How was it unfair? Even writing it down for the public to see is terrible. But I know this is common. I know this is a thing. I didn’t WANT to feel the way I did, but I DID. Now the question was, How could I stop it?

I don’t want to be blinded to what I have because I’m too busy looking at what I don’t.

I vowed then that I would never allow someone else’s joy–and their desire to share that joy with me–ever be soured by bitterness or envy. It couldn’t be. Not feeling complete joy because something absolutely wonderful is happening is NOT the way it should be. It’s not the way I want to live my life. I resolved that there had to be a better way.

Being grateful for what I have RIGHT NOW is 98% of it.

It has taken a dependable group of friends, women who know my heart – who know I don’t have bad intentions when I tell them I feel sad and happy at the same time – and women who have experienced the waiting. It has taken a husband who doesn’t put pressure on me or who reminds me that it’s not my fault that it’s taking us a little longer than it might take other couples. It has taken parents and parents-in-law who don’t remind us at every turn that we should probably be giving them grandbabies at this point. It has taken my own willpower to resist snapping back at those who try to reassure me saying, “But you’re so young. You have time” and believe them, instead. It has taken the power of prayer to keep my heart calm and peel away the frustration that things aren’t happening on my own time.

Ultimately, here’s what I know as truth. And it’s this truth that grounds me and keeps me positive, happy for others, and guards me against that awful feeling that might threaten to creep up every now and then:

I will have the perfect baby at the perfect time. I’ll know, looking at my baby, why it was meant to happen then and not necessarily when I wanted.

That’s it.

How do I know I’ve had a mental and emotional transformation? Well, you know how we’re able to test our physical health and progress through competition, or measurements, or other tests. But what about mental health? How do I know I’ve improved so much?

Well, this last week, I not only visited the newborn of our very best friends, but the next day I visited another newborn of a good colleague of mine and then, the very next day after that, after that first beautiful heartbeat message, I got to celebrate Remi’s first birthday. With either of the visits, there was no bitterness, no sadness, no anger, no jealousy. I got to watch one of my very best friends celebrate her daughter’s first birthday. I was able to play with Remi, cuddle and giggle with her.

Does the yearning still exist? Absolutely. But there’s a comfort in the waiting now that wasn’t there before.

Thank God for that.

Year 4: The Ladies Edge

When I don’t feel like it or don’t think I have the energy, I’m going to do the damn thing. Because I can either be okay with the hard choice of disappointing myself, or I can be okay with the hard choice of showing up and doing it anyway. It’s up to me. But I can’t dare complain later when I didn’t show up before. After all, isn’t that what marriage is like some days?

Last year around April, I was invited by one of my good friends Katie to try out The Ladies Edge – a workout program that I was so grateful she found following the tragic death of Brad, her best friend and soon-to-be fiance. I saw how much it was an anchor for her: a place to release the grief and anger and find community and endorphins that would pick her up and carry her on. Though I found different reasons to join, I reap benefits that I had never expected to receive.

Why am I going to talk about a workout program on this WifeReflections blog?

How could I not?

Exercise is obviously good for me, personally, but whoa has it amped up the married life.

I am confident in my skin (yay fitting into clothes better), which lends itself to other activities that make for a happy wife. I’m also pretty sure that Cody finds it attractive that I can be physically stronger than expected with these lanky arms (especially when we were moving all those heavy boxes!).

TLDR?
The program works for me and my marriage. Cody even breaks a sweat with me and has admitted it’s a solid program. I have zero intention of stopping and my body is thanking me for it. It has taught me to make time for myself, my marriage, and my health. All three of these things are necessary for me to feel joy on a daily basis. To NOT make them a priority would be a grave mistake.

We were staying in a shepherd’s hut in Lasswade, Scotland. The wi-fi was strong enough, we had our resistance bands and workout clothes and got it done. We’re not saying y’all are losers with our L hands – it’s just the way we show that we completed the “live” workout the coach posts every Saturday morning.

Want more details? Want to join me, like I took Katie up on her invitation? Read on.

As a teacher and general person trying to succeed, it was stupid hard for me to find a consistent workout routine. I tried Couch to 5k (which was AWESOME and helped me run my first and favorite: Gaza 5k), but it was still basically winter and conditions were not conducive to running without my ears feeling like they were on fire from the bitter wind. Ah, Chicago.

Katie told me about The Ladies Edge (TLE). I tried it, and I fell in love. I’m part of the program more than a year later; in fact, I paid for Lifer status, which basically means I no longer pay monthly. I’m in it for as long as the program will exist because I believe in the mission and the coach. A year later, I’m still working out consistently, still getting sore, and still reaping the benefits of moving my body in ways that surprise even me.

Here are some of the main reasons I’m in this thing for life and why I think I’m one of the hundreds of women who are able to stick with it:

The workouts are only 23 minutes long, 6 days a week. I just cannot make an excuse for not including ONLY 23 minutes of HIIT-like exercise into my daily routine. Although the workout itself does not necessarily “fit” into the recommended 30-minutes/5 days a week suggestion by the American Heart Association, the way I see it, 23 minutes + the time it takes me to go to the copy machine twice a day from my third floor classroom + walking to the train + walking around the classroom = heart healthy. It’s also not beyond me to start holding a plank while students are working on the assigned activity.
The community of women is unlike anything I’ve ever been a part of. I went an all-girls high school, so I know the power when women decide we want to change something, or celebrate something, or fight against something. I also know how disruptive it can be when a group of girls decides to bash the mission without having a reasonable conversation first. There will always be women who don’t feel like they belong and, as a result, disrupt the peace already present.

What I love about TLE is that Michelle Bishop, the coach and founder of TLE, is very adamant about “protecting the house.” There is a zero-tolerance policy of bullying, shaming, or other negative-Nancy decisions.

It’s quite amazing what happens in the Facebook group when women know that their best is expected: no pity parties, no complaining, no bashing another woman for her life’s choices. When something terrible happens, we post about it, but it’s for support – not because we can’t handle it, but because we know we can handle it better with our tribe behind us.
We have women and men from all walks of life — young moms, “Golden Bishes” in their 60s, college kids, supportive husbands, engaged and married women, women who have heartbreakingly buried their babies, men who are secure enough in themselves to take the program and the empowerment of women seriously… I could go on. I am so grateful that there are women who have been pregnant and post-partum in the group, because when it’s my turn, I know I have solid women to turn to if I have questions or if I’m scared or if… the list goes on. The only rule? Hold others accountable and they’ll make sure you’re posting your sweaty selfie, too. It’s incredible what happens when you don’t show up for a few days. Somebody notices!!
I feel better. I have freedom from guilt. Cheat meals don’t exist for me because there’s not a moment I need to “sneak” a cookie or hide a caramel macchiato. I seek balance. I have the cookie, but I also make sure I’m giving my body the fuel it needs to be energized and strong and ready for the next workout. I can do these workouts at any time, but it’s suggested I do one a day. Monday: chest, Tuesday: back, Wednesday: shoulders, Thursday: arms, Friday: legs, Saturday: live (all-body). Waking up at 5:15am every school day was admittedly hard sometimes, but since I met on a Zoom conference link with women across the country getting up as well, it made it much easier!
Perhaps the biggest change I’ve noticed in myself isn’t necessarily the physical: it’s the mental grit. I already had it, but it’s different now. It’s more fine-tuned. I’m gonna write this damn novel because I’m going to keep showing up, just like I do for my workouts. I‘m going to be a damn good teacher because I can do these pushups, so I can plan these wicked awesome lessons. I’m going be a giving wife even when I’m tired because I know it’s worth it.

When I don’t feel like it or don’t think I have the energy, I’m going to do the damn thing. Because I can either be okay with the hard choice of disappointing myself, or I can be okay with the hard choice of showing up and doing it anyway. It’s up to me. But I can’t dare complain later when I didn’t show up before. After all, isn’t that what marriage is like some days?

If you’re still here and would like to try The Ladies Edge FOR FREE, click here. The price of $27/month will go away on June 8, 2019. Get it now!

Year 4, Week 48: The Bookshelf

I get the affection for the single life: time and space for your own time and space… your own habits, your own choices. You don’t have to compromise with anybody, double-check plans, or keep yourself from watching a Netflix show because your partner isn’t home yet (ugh, so glad we’re over this now. Kind of).

But my appreciation keeps growing for this marriage thing. This time, it’s thanks to the black Ikea bookshelf. It’s been taken down and set back up eight times in Cody’s life, but four of those times, the shelves have held my books, too. In the home we just moved out of, the bookshelf was in the living room, telling people how much we loved reading and, also, the wall was the perfect size for this literary behemoth. The two bedroom apartment housed our master bedroom and Cody’s office/guest room. In our new home, we could have kept the bookshelf in the living room.

But this time…

This time, the bookshelf has been set up in my own little office. That’s right. We have three bedrooms now, and one of them is my own little room.

Can I just say much how I have missed that and not really realized that I did?

I LOVE having my piano, a desk (where I wrote the majority of my first manuscript btw. My mom asked me today why I didn’t just throw it away because it’s so old and I’m still too unpublished to tell her that, one day, this desk will be in a museum), and A FREAKING BOOKSHELF in MY OWN ROOM.

Cody walked in on me working earlier this afternoon with a knowing smile. He does that sometimes. When I asked him about it, he shrugged and said, “I just wanted to watch you in your little creative space. I knew you’d be in a happy place and I wanted to see it.

…But if you weren’t in a happy space, I would have just shut the door.”

Sometimes I wonder if he jumped out the pages of one of those shelved books.

In hindsight, of course I would love a room like this. I love me time to recharge and just be. And a place to create music? A space to write? A place to read? Why wasn’t this a thing earlier in my marriage?!

To which a small voice reminds me, “You needed time to qualify for a mortgage, remember?”

Anyway. Being able to capture what’s good about the single life in this little room for myself feels like a double-win. I can have my own space AND share the larger home that I absolutely adore sharing with my husband.

And the black bookshelf? It’s so much easier putting back together with someone else by your side.

I can’t wait to add more wall art, but for now, this view makes me really excited. The energy is flowing!

Year 4, Week 33: Big-Girl Pants

Cody left for a business trip three weeks ago. He was gone two weeks—the longest stint of time we’ve spent apart since I studied abroad in Spain. In 2013.

Before that, the longest stint away was when we were long distance for 2.5 years, for 3-4 months at a time.

This reflection is not about how badly it sucked that my husband was gone. This reflection is about how much I had to learn and, subsequently, grow because I didn’t have Cody to hide behind. …That’s the part that kind of sucked. A little.

Before he left, we had spent a great weekend together, happy reflecting on our last year: I’ve jumped into a sustainable fitness lifestyle, we bought a rental property, are happy with our jobs, and though the construction on our most recently acquired building is going slower than we would have liked, life is calm. Under control. We expressed gratitude over this.

The first week without Cody was fine — fun, even. It reminded me of when he left last year for a little while. I spent a few days (and nights) at my parents’ house because the extreme Polar Vortex temps closed school and, frankly, if I had the choice between being cold and alone or cold with family, I will choose the latter every time.

Hanging out with my dad was one of the best ways to “be cool” with Cody being gone. It was really sweet to feel Mom and Dad welcome me home with the most open arms, warmest mugs of tea, and most crisp wine after a home-cooked meal.

The temperatures were thawing by Thursday, and I was looking forward to a weekend full of friends: I knew I’d be missing Cody something fierce if I didn’t schedule some time with those who know me best.

Things didn’t go according to plan.

Friday night: ~~sleepover with Bailey, an 18-year old firecracker of spunk, pizzazz, and golden goodness.~~ Go to the house on Marengo (what we call the new house that we might get to move into in 2029 if the weather finally cooperates). Check the house for burst pipes and potential water damage.

Saturday: Mom’s birthday! I’m gonna ~~spoil her with a facial, brunch, and a couple hours at the casino.~~ meet the plumber. Go out for breakfast with a dear friend who has experience with life and can remind you it’ll be okay. Leave before food comes to let plumber into unit that actually has the problem. Come back to restaurant and most patient friend ever. Try not to cry over the fact that THE ONE ROOM IN THE NEW UNIT THAT WASN’T GONNA HAVE A HOLE NOW HAS A HOLE IN IT. Fall in love with new neighborhood all over again. Go to niece’s gymnastics meet and celebrate Mom’s birthday with family in the evening.

Sunday: Go to church; sing with Dad. Take older niece with me to Marengo to measure tenant’s shower stall; go to Menard’s, Home Depot, Marengo, Menard’s… And then two hours after scheduled, Superbowl fun with Bailey’s family (because they get life and, with them as friends, life is never nearly as bad as people suggest it is)

Monday: ~~tea with Ana after school and then an evening for my writing.~~ A really nice glass of wine with Ana, then delicious dinner when her husband came home after work. Quick trip to Menard’s, my new second home, and then home for bed time.

What the hell am I going to do when a pipe breaks? Recite a Shakespearean sonnet? I have zero practical skills in the trades.

Plans changed. I was 2.5 steps away from a panic attack. Cody is the one who shows up when things go wrong: I’m usually the one who just hands him a cup of tea at the end of the day with a pat on the back.

When things started breaking and I was the only one who could show up, I had to show up.

Cody was such a great team player when we were apart. He was in constant contact with the tenants and the plumber. I really just had to be the feet on the ground. Though it was inconvenient for a few days, I am so grateful I had Cody there — even if this time, I was walking beside him, and not hiding behind him.

I’m a natural planner, so when plans change and things are seemingly out of control, I rely heavily on the people in my village, earnest prayers from inside my car, and hope that this too shall soon pass. And let’s be clear: what happened wasn’t necessarily hard, it was just so unfamiliar. It was a learning curve; adulting, if you will.

What I am most proud of is that, when things started looking unfamiliar and scary, I didn’t just roll up into a ball and hide. I did the things that needed to be done. I learned stuff. And, though I couldn’t get one-on-one time with Bailey on Friday night, I still made sure I saw her on Sunday. I did not cancel plans with friends or family. I held onto the commitments I made to the people in my life.

Pipes will break and it’s easy to fix, but it’s not as easy to mend a broken relationship. I’m so glad that we were able to work it out, Chicago and California style. Though I may have asked Cody how I let him “get me into this real estate thing?” It was worth the rent check when I left the tenant’s unit on Sunday. Like, oh. He’s trying to protect our -my- financial future.

He’s a hell of a provider. And this time, I had the opportunity to learn how to provide for myself, too.

Year 4, Week 19: Building Our Village

Cody and I have always had a running joke that, thanks to me, he has friends – I text, call, and generally have an easier time keeping in touch with people Cody admires but doesn’t necessarily reach out to all the time.

I’m happy to report, however, that it’s actually thanks to Cody that we have some of the best people in our closest circle. I wouldn’t be friends with Stacie and Halyna if Cody hadn’t clicked so well with their respective spouses, Matt and Josh, at work.

Since a company Christmas party and many celebrations thereafter, Cody and I have loved getting to know these couples, cultivating strong, fair-and-notfair-weather friendships with them. We’ve spent so many birthdays together now that I’ve lost track. We play board games, eat amazing food, and laugh so much together. We talk about important things and ideas, usually staying away from conversations about people (unless those people have done noteworthy things with their lives, then we break it down and learn from their example). We value the intricacies and quirks of each member and frequently express gratitude that we’re in each other’s lives. Most importantly, each couple boasts tenants of incredibly strong relationship: Matt and Stacie challenge each other to be better, always. Among so many others things, they take care of each other so well. Josh and Halyna are the epitome of adventurers and explorers, always choosing one another to be each other’s partner, but never excluding others from the experience as well. They lean on each other, but never doubt each other’s strength.

We’re lucky that they are in our village.

And I am so grateful that we had an evening together this Saturday. Stacie decorated her home with such love and care, setting up the ambiance in a way that made me feel comfort and warmth the moment we stepped in from the cold, rainy day. Sleeping bags and blankets and pillows were set up in front of the TV. So many pretty tea lights. Snacks. Josh and Halyna had already arrived, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget Josh yelling, “Frriieends!”

How could you not feel welcomed with a greeting like that?

How can you tell these boys are both software engineers? Hint: Plaid.

The point is, it took time to build these friendships, but it’s not a surprise to me that we can claim them as our friends. It took life experiences that tested whether we would show up when the going got tough, or whether we’d bail. It means something when Cody and I are the couple that lives farther away (i.e. more inconvenient to get to in Chicago traffic), but our friends still travel to come see us and vice versa.

Most importantly, the fact that they have such healthy marriages is a mirror to us about the wellness of our own.

In the context of my marriage and the friendships I share with my husband, we are building a village for our future family.

<Hm.> I’ve never said that before: in the friendships I share with my husband. People aren’t just “my” friends anymore. They have to be cool with the both of us to be my friend. Otherwise, how can it be a true friendship? </Hm.>

We are establishing a community that my future children won’t be able to imagine living without. It’s a blessing we don’t take for granted – but just like a solid marriage, it took time to get here. What’s exciting is that we have met so many other people who aren’t described here, but are just as important to us. I just happen to have this freshest on my mind right now 🙂

If you don’t have these “couple friends” just yet, don’t fret. You should be as “picky” as you are with your actual spouse. They will shape you, mold you, and reflect your truest self right back at you, loving you through it all.

P.S. Thanks to Halyna and Stacie for encouraging me to keep writing, even if it’s not for my novel right now.

Year 2, Week 51: Burnout

You guys. I had a huge realization this week. But before I get into that –

First of all, “No Bad Days” took off like lightning. In just three days, we had over 2,000 readers fall in love with Katie and Brad’s story, and more are getting to know them as the days progress. The power of love and courage and strength and resilience and hope is alive because people seek what they most want to manifest in themselves.

It’s like I always tell Cody: the world is okay because the majority of audiences in movie theaters are still rooting for the good guy to bring justice to the bad one.

To see Katie’s strength-despite what could very easily and understandably be crippling for her plans, dreams, and desires- is an example for all of us to realize that great loss that will inevitably come in our lives but that it is our choice to believe in faith, hope, and love anyway, finding a way to smile through the tears. Kissy faces optional.

Thank you to those who shared (and continue to share) this story. It is one I was humbled and honored to share because I think it’s so important. Living with loss is something we don’t talk about all the time, but it’s happening more than ever. Personally, I think we’re all traumatized and just kind of waiting for the ‘next’ bad news instead of reveling in the good that’s happening right in front of our very noses. Especially the kind we can create for ourselves.

Cody creates his own joy all the time. Sure, I’m the butt of most of his jokes, but they’re relatively harmless. Having three older brothers to tease me all the time only kind of messed me up, so I think I can handle the sly jabs. Maybe that’s what made him comfortable to begin with. [Am I onto something big here? Better stop thinking about it and step away 😉 ]

Sometimes, I laugh at the jokes and give it right back to him. This is when Cody is most happy. He loves word play probably more than anyone else I’ve ever known (Shakespeare might beat him by a few hundred jokes, but we have longer life-spans now, so I think Cody has a chance).

Sometimes, I groan and roll my eyes. His puns are really, really bad that they’re good, and I think I’m his wife because I’m the only one who will really start giggling when we’re out with friends. In fact, I can confirm it because his arm will often wrap around my back when he hears my laugh in the midst of cricket-silence.

How we hope to raise our children one day.

But lately, I’ve been really, really not into his jokes. In fact, there hasn’t even been an eye-roll, or sigh, or “Seriously?” Instead, I’ll kind of just nod my head zombily (it’s a word now, okay?) and walk away.

AND NOW I KNOW WHY.

I’ve been burnt out. Severely, totally, “please do not add another thing onto my list because I might implode” burnout. This has happened plenty before, but now I had a solid two months of gottagetthisdoneorelse anxiety lighting my ass and no rest to cool the poor cheeks.

It’s only now, with time – time with God, time with friends, time with myself, time with Cody, time with my family, time with nature – that I find myself slowly walking out of the fog that is detached, depressed, unmotivated, irritated, and unproductive Ania.

And the first visible sign of recovery was a few days ago when I laughed heartily at Cody’s teasing and gave it right back. I could tell he was glad his Ania was back, too, judging by the quick wrap-around hug, twinkle in his eye, and kiss on my hand.

It’s good to be back.

Year 2, Week 22.5: How I Won NaNoWriMo 2016

A teacher asked us one year as a “First Day of School” icebreaker what our biggest dream was. I was last to answer, and mine was pretty far-out: “I want to write a best-selling novel one day.”

That became “I want to write a novel one day” and, after hearing my father-in-law tell me with zero doubts in his voice, “You know – you’d write a great book” I decided “one day” wasn’t good enough for me anymore. I hated being all talk and absolutely zero action. I committed to NaNoWriMo – writing 50,000 words in 30 days, with the hope that the first draft of a first novel would be born.

In it’s most basic form of understanding, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month and, in it’s painful form of explanation, it forced me to confront all the ugly parts about the creative process: the doubts, the uncertainty of whether I could even do this, and the temptation to use excuses of “not enough time” or “writer’s block.”

I learned so much about myself in 30 days – here are 6 ways how.

My husband really is my biggest fan. The man stood there like the father he will be one day, demanding I put my cellphone in his hands because it was distracting me. Again. But he’s also the first one to light up in a smile when I tell him I met my daily word count (1,667 per day, to stay on track). He was able to express physically what I felt mentally: pure joy at me embracing what he (we) always saw as my potential.
I learned who I don’t feel like I have to “please.” As a perfectionist, this is huge. I usually do not like sharing ANYTHING until it is ready for admiring eyes, so if you saw my long-faced SnapChats or I sent you a text message asking for prayers or I saw you and grinned, telling you of my progress, that means I am deeply convinced that you would still love me, even if I completely failed and gave up halfway through November. But it’s precisely because I told you that I’m pretty sure I made it. I wanted YOU as motivation because, even though you would have still loved me, I did not want to let you down. So thank you. Ideally, personalized Thank You cards will soon be in the mail.

Special shout-out to my co-workers in the teacher’s lounge who would ask me what my characters were up to that day. In many cases, what we would discuss often-times fueled that evening’s writing.
I learned how to shut off my “inner editor” – that voice that would keep telling me things like “That sentence was stupid” or “That word is so elementary; you’re an English teacher for crying out loud – how could you not be more precise?” By Day 20 when I was 5000+ words behind, however, I didn’t have time for the inner editor. She needed to go, because I needed to write. Fast. (As a result, I also learned how to write faster. Thank Jesus, because I never would have “made it” otherwise).
I learned how to make writing – this often elusive desire and never a concrete practice – a priority. I look back and wonder how I was able to write SO much in such a short amount of time with so many other responsibilities. Turns out that with less TV and way less Facebook and more intentional, prioritized, scheduled “me” time, I was able to do it just fine (and without losing any sleep!). I needed to stop flaking out on that part of myself that just wanted to write. If a part of me kept feeling like the kid that kept getting ditched, well, that stinks, so I had to start showing up.
I really love writing by myself in coffee shops. The vibe makes me feel like I’m legit. Also coffee makes my fingers move faster. Can’t say the same for my brain, but I try.
Students began coming up to me and asking them if I could give them tips for writing a book. Who, me? But I’m not even published yet (Shh, inner editor.. Shh.) One student even wrote her own 30,000 words, with no intention of slowing down. The day she was 3000+ words ahead of me on word count, I knew I had to get back on track. Competition is the best motivation, I’m telling ya – even when it’s against a 14 year old who doesn’t realize she just started a fire under your butt 😀

In short (ha! I’m even more long-winded now than I was before), I guess I just wanted it bad enough. I don’t want Cody to feel like the kid that keeps getting ditched, so I choose to keep showing up to my marriage, too. Turns out the hard work is worth it – and it gave me plenty of material for the first draft of my very first novel.

We’ll see where this gravy train takes us.