The Night I Learned to Drive again While Hiking: Leavenworth, Washington

Motherhood

If you were to ask my favorite season with my children around, I would say summer without any hesitation. Summer doesn’t need an explanation. It’s winter, though, where I find the most perspective. I am able to sit in silence. Process. Revisit a memory. Plan. For the last few years, photographs have captured the words I couldn’t write. I was far too broken. There’s something beautiful about being in the same place at the same time as a completely different person.

In 2019, I got on a plane for the very first time. I was 27 years old, and I’d never flown. Flying seemed so complicated. My process for preparation included throwing everything I could remember from the running list in my head into a bag, and yelling “let’s go!”. There is no warning before your life changes forever, it just does.

I was surprised by how easy it was to get on a plane and fly somewhere else. Maybe it was all in my head. I could travel. I wasn’t trapped. You have to make a choice to be set free.

In 2020, I uprooted my entire life. I walked out of my job, typed a resignation letter, and never returned. A few weeks later I said “yes” to the first job opportunity that came my way. I hung up the phone and started preparing for a travel assignment. Three years ago, I’d say that it was only for three months. I’d say that I had every intention of moving back to Nesbit, Mississippi. But now that I have nothing to lose, I’ll tell you the honest truth.

Nesbit, Mississippi is a little too flat for me and I am not responsible for what he chose to do.

My body doesn’t do well with change, being autistic & all. Being empathetic crippled me then and for many years to come. I’d wonder if I was the monster because I could relate to the feelings of one.

By 28, there was not a single person I could trust. I couldn’t trust myself. I definitely couldn’t trust a man. There was a time I was frozen in a studio apartment in Seattle. For a moment I was homeless and for a long time I was broken. I text my best friend for months off and on and received an inbox from her husband. The sound of a man’s voice pushed me into a different frequency, one that begged me to disassociate among the trees.

“It’s totally fine. We only have about 10 more miles and a bunch of switch backs left.”

-Me, desperately trying to avoid carrying my five year old this early on in the hike.

I worked in a Virology lab in Seattle, Washington. I was surrounded by travelers from all over the world who all had a story to tell. I remember walking in after Micheal dropped me off, thinking that maybe not all men are from hell. He sent me a text to say he’d love to see me again even after I told him that we could never happen. I was married, you see, to a monster who would never in a million years let go of me.

I searched for vices and had my own share of Champagne Problems.

My ability to mask was wearing off and I’d reached the point where all I could feel was burnout. In the South, everyone already knows your business. In the Pacific Northwest, you can blend in and disappear. I decided to do just that.

After my (then) husband left us, I felt a sigh of relief. I thought he felt too ashamed of what he’d done to ever return, so for a while I felt safe. I took the shame that was projected onto me and used it to explore. I sang Goodbye Earl every night to stay awake, accidentally making friends along the way. I fell in love with nature, with Michael, and the idea of motherhood.

We built a life in that tiny blue house before, once again, we were faced with a change. My husband was selling our family home in Mississippi. He would hire two attorneys in two separate states, claiming that I’d committed adultery and treated him inhumanely. In Mississippi, he claimed that he had no idea where I took the children and that I refused to provide him with my physical address. In Washington, he admitted to driving my daughters across state lines and leaving the state of Washington in my vehicle. I couldn’t keep up with the stories. It was my daughter’s sixth birthday. Why couldn’t he wait for a less important day? I gave him the satisfaction of one last phone call before deciding that it no longer benefited the children to keep the peace.

I took a new job across the bridge, tackling yet another of my greatest fears. Bridges over water and driving a car were tasks my PTSD hated with a passion. I worked ten-hour night shifts while Micheal stayed home with the girls. I drove an hour to work and an hour home. I flew to Mississippi, despite being granted a Domestic Violence Order of Protection in the state of Washington. I stood outside the courthouse of our emergency custody hearing as my husband’s mother followed me around and yelled for everyone in my hometown to hear what she thought of me. I was stalking him?

Bullshit. I was only at Desoto County Chancery court because I absolutely had to be. Apparently, Mississippi didn’t believe in Zoom and the Covid protocol consisted of everyone standing around on the grass and courthouse steps.

For eight months, I’d raised my girls alongside a man who had no obligation to us. Michael had shown us nothing but compassion and empathy. He didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve this. The girls definitely didn’t deserve any of this. I’ll spare the anger and complete madness I felt then because often times, now, I choose peace over a reaction.

I’d learn over the course of court hearings and declarations back and forth that a narcissist will say anything to avoid being confronted with the truth. He’d claim he fell down a mountain, and that the mountain had moved to Nesbit, Mississippi. He was the victim in any and every situation, and this battle was never about the children.

In August of 2022, in a series of discovery questions, I was, once again, portrayed as the villain. This time, I took the title with stride and answered the questions in a way that would anger him the most…honestly. By August, I hadn’t spoken to him in over a year, nor had I seen him in almost two. I asked for help on my discovery questions because they felt invasive. List every group I’ve ever been a part of, provide a detailed description of every episode of narcissistic abuse I’ve experienced?

I’d write about the coercion, his ties to my family that left me feeling extra vulnerable. I’d write about a time when I felt that I had no one, and how it angered me that I felt as though I should view my relationship with Micheal as “dirty” when it was anything but that. I requested medical records from both Mississippi and Washington. I organized all of the texts, police reports, and other documentation into Dropbox folders. After three weeks of reading and rereading to make sure I hadn’t mixed anything up, I turned in my discovery questions.

Micheal booked a cabin for us in Leavenworth, Washington. I’d taken down every website, blog, social media page, etc. that I could think of so that he could not find me. He’d sent packages to my new home, and I knew that I couldn’t move because of court proceedings. It’s silly, isn’t it? Someone you haven’t seen in two years, who has not provided in form of support for the four children you are raising…can have that much control over your life through the legal system?

I’d asked my mother to attend a therapy session with me at the suggestion of my therapist, and she refused, stating that abuse was “locking people in cages” so she didn’t feel that I was.

I stayed up all night in the cabin after the therapy session I attended with Micheal instead of my mother. We essentially yelled over each other about our rage the entire session. That night I set up my camera, and away from all the city lights, I captured the stars. My goal that summers was to chase down the Aurora Borealis and hike as much as I could.

With very little preparation, we decided to hike to Colchuck Lake via the Enchantments, which, according to All Trails, is about 8.7 miles out and back. This does not include the time it takes to get to the trailhead from the parking lot if you are lucky enough to get a spot. We decided to do this hike on Labor Day weekend and did not arrive at the trailhead early. I believe it was a Thursday, which is the only reason that we got a spot. All Trails states that the average time to complete the hike is about 5 hours. All Trails is a liar.

I always take into account that we have four small children, but we hike a lot. We’ve done several moderate hikes, which I thought would adequately prepare us for our first “hard” or “challenging” hike. I’m in quite a few hiking groups and knew that this is one of the most popular and photographed hikes in Washington. We had the ten essentials, plus an Osprey carrier for the littles. All of the kids had camel backs with water, but somehow we did not have enough protein bars.

I used all the fuel I had from the rage I felt at the beginning of the hike, and by the time we reached the Alpine Lake it was almost dark. I could hardly feel my legs. We’d passed people who were coming down who took one look at the toddler on my back and said, “you win”. I couldn’t tell my kids that we’d come this far and couldn’t make it out. If you’re familiar with the Enchantments, you know that camping was not an option. There is a lottery system, and we were NOT that lucky.

We hiked back down in the dark and didn’t make it out of the woods until around 11PM. Micheal asked another hiker for a protein bar, for which I will forever be grateful. I’m sure he was excited that he would not be leaving the woods a single dad as well. When we made it back to the car, the girls were all given the Dr. Pepper they’d been promised for miles and miles. We weren’t very far from the cabin, but I was so exhausted that I thought it best I pull over and stand up because I felt my eyes closing while driving with a car full of children.

As I started to veer off and call Michael to say that I couldn’t do it, I saw A BEAR. I am grateful for my fatigue in that very moment because he was extremely fluffy. The bear cub ran across the road as if I wasn’t even there. I drove to the nearest Safeway to get food before returning to the cabin.

On that hike, I learned that nature is my home, and that family are the people you meet along the way. Maybe the first time you barely get by, but you learn a few tricks for the next time. Like, you know, bribing your kids with a Dr. Pepper to cross the finish line. I learned that sometimes to feel in control you have to completely let go of everything you once believed in.

As Michael would say, a hiker’s journey is not flat. It’s full of switchbacks and moving rock beneath your feet. Keep moving. Only slow down long enough to take a deep breath and enjoy the view.

Scar Soup Storytime: Featuring Fight or Flight with a Dash of Fawn and a Hint of Freeze

Motherhood

Daily writing prompt

What fears have you overcome and how?

View all responses

From the outside looking in, I seemed to have it all…a beautiful home in a good neighborhood with a long driveway and a fenced in backyard. My best friend lived two coves down and we spent many Mississippi summers sipping out of mason jars while our kids soaked up the sun. I’d been married for almost a decade, and we shared four amazing little girls together. Less than two years later, we’d be going through a high conflict divorce in two separate states and the man who fathered my girls would agree to terminate his parental rights.

I asked myself countless times “Why?”. Why did I stay? Why didn’t he love me? Why was I so hard to be around? Why did this happen to me? Why does it happen to anyone?

There’s a catalyst. There’s something that you can’t “let go” of. There comes a time where you realize this was always one of the internal battles that would eventually lead to war. Your mask of nonconfrontational, don’t say anything offensive that you often use as a shield is about to come off. You know that once you lift the sword there’s no take backs. The good guy always wins though, right? We will all ride into the sunset and live happily ever after.

As a last stitch effort at conformity, you’ve completely starved yourself of all essentials needed for survival. You’ve screamed at the top of your lungs. You’ve sat in silence. You’ve smiled, apologized to keep the peace. But the more complacent you became; the more violence surrounded you.

At some point as a society, we collectively decided that it wasn’t cool to show too much of ourselves. It’s human nature to follow the people who seem to know where they’re headed.

Vunerability is the root of connection. When you’ve never felt seen and safe at the same time, relationships are messy. I feared letting go of the anger I confused for power. I was scared that if I talked about it, it would be real. I’d wake up from my daydream and be right back in the hands of a monster. I was terrified of what else may be lurking in the shadows if I talked openly about it. What would people think of me? What was he capable of? I feared letting him keep that power over me more.

My biggest struggle was loving myself. In order to do that, I had to (hate is a strong word, but it’s fitting here) hate alot of people. It was much easier to hate myself and continue to work hard. I feared change until the fear of not making it to the other side tapped Change on the shoulder and said….”Uh, sorry not sorry…it’s time to go!”.

I knew what I needed to do. I knew that it was impossible. I knew that I had to. I couldn’t do it for me…yet. But I could do anything I needed to do to make sure that my children were safe.

I was scared of trusting my gut. I was scared of having children, and I was especially scared of becoming a mother when I was just starting to like myself a little bit. The universe is really funny sometimes. If I ever were to have a pow wow with the Sun, Moon, and Stars I’d definitely give kudos for whole making me a mother to four little minis. Nice touch.

I’ve heard that being a parent is like looking into a mirror. For a while, I thought that I’d never fit in. I quickly realized as a mother that we may have all watched Pokémon and made some poor choices in middle school, but we do not all share the same childhood experiences.

I never felt that I was worthy of love, or even simpler things such as understanding. Every day felt like a Friday Night Football game. There was magic. I saw the flicker, I know I did. The most devastating feeling was knowing that in another life we probably made the best team. I held on to an idea of you, and the longer I hoped, the more I disappeared. I sank deeper and deeper into a false reality of all sorts of colors. For you. For everyone else in the game but me. I cheered for you. I lost my voice screaming as if it would mean something if I just got louder. When that didn’t work, I spent so many hours in silence. I shifted in and out of disassociation until I knew what I saw.

On the last day before it all changed, I felt it. I knew that something was about to happen. I remember running around exhausted baking cookies in my kitchen with my best friend. And I held on to that delusional image of her for so many nights because it was the one relationship that I never had to disassociate from. When I no longer felt home there, I was forced to make moves that I would have never imagined otherwise. I feared letting her go, but she was already long gone. Losing control. Spiraling. Spinning. I realized no one was going to help me. Mentally, I broke. My brain couldn’t possibly process all these emotions at once but it was too far gone to stop it.

And then it all came crashing down. I saw the true image of him that I’ll never unsee. I could never give enough of myself away to make him happy. He would keep taking and taking until there was nothing left. I knew him well enough to know that I couldn’t scream. I cried, and I laid there, fawning. In that moment, all hope dissipated and all that remained was this pathetic little injured bird. I knew my brokeness was exposed and I knew that he had no empathy.

I didn’t know how I’d do it. I had four daughters, I’d just quit my job, and my name was in national headlines. How could I leave? He’d find me. Find us. I felt like my only option was to make a fight or flight soup with a dash of freeze and a hint of fawn. These situations are never simple, but maybe if we had a conversation about the “why” we’d realize that we all have fears. We have flaws. Scars really do make for the best stories, but they aren’t always physical.

Forgiveness. It’s true that often times we have to forgive people who never gave an apology. My four year old has a very cute “I’m sorry.”. It’s one of her favorite phrases, but I have to remind her that words still hurt. No one person can provide you closure. That’s something you have to give yourself.

It’s okay to grieve the life that you thought you were going to have. It’s important that you grieve.

Honesty. Peeling back the layers of your “why” is brutal. It completely sucks the life out of you. You’re gonna want to tap out of that chokehold, but it will only suffocate you if you don’t allow yourself time to process it. I realized that even though it was scary leaving everything I’d ever known, I had to figure it out.

As a mother, I tried to make everyday an adventure. I created spaces that I loved. We explored. We threw glitter. We hiked. We traveled. Car karaoke on weeklong road trips. I started dancing again. I got a new job, much more lucrative than the job I’d left behind and I learned to love myself. I got plants, and I gave myself some grace. I learned that no is a full sentence. If you’re scared to feel it, just know that pain demands to be felt. The only part of it that we have any control over is that process. Sometimes sharing our story helps others feel less alone. Sometimes we give enough heads up on the play.

The answer to facing my biggest fears was simple. I pictured, over and over again, the life that I have now. It’s peaceful, not perfect but we are getting there.

Falling in Love with my ADHD Brain

adhd, Motherhood

For most of my life I struggled to fit in. Even though I was “successful” at a lot of different things, I was really hard on myself for not being able to stick it out any one thing. How was I ever going to be the best at anything if I eventually got bored and moved on to the next idea that sparked my interest?

I constantly told myself that I wasn’t enough. I silenced myself; therefore, it left a lot of room for miserable people in my life. I have recently met several females who were diagnosed with ADHD later in life. Even though I had a diagnosis pretty early on, I didn’t understand my brain.

Because I didn’t understand my brain, I stayed in the wrong relationships for for too long. I said yes so many times when I wanted to say no because I was scared of what other people would think of me. ADHD can be a beautiful thing. There are so many things that I am good at but often times we hyper-focus on the wrong things.

Almost 10 years ago I had a mini me who is so beautiful and smart. She’s creative. She’s kind. She’s the kind of person who puts others before herself and if we are being honest, that’s exactly what scares me the most. Being empathetic isn’t a bad thing and I wouldn’t trade the ability to feel so deeply for anything in the world. I’ve learned to look at it as a super power. But that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes empathy is extremely overwhelming.

Sometimes being overwhelmed causes us to lose sight of our vision. I can do this. I just told myself so many times that I couldn’t. I started to believe it. So I’m going to tell myself I told my daughter last night. It’s OK to stand out. It’s OK to be different. It’s OK to do things in your own way. I personally don’t think that codependency is always a bad thing. Just be careful who you depend on.

You are going to meet people who light your world on fire. There will be people who try to understand you that never can. That’s OK. Love them anyway! You inspire so many people just by being you. I know how frustrating it is to have a great idea that nobody can see but people will see it. You just have to show it to them in the right way and you’ll get there I promise. It takes all kinds of kinds.

I’ll let you be free as much as possible because I know that you were going to change the world one day. I can’t wait to see how you do it.

How to be DONE with your Losing Season

Lifestyle, Motherhood

A friend of mine recently posted a beautiful photo where she was glowing! As soon as I saw the picture of her, before ever reading the caption, I started smiling. She’s someone I can relate to and someone that I am so happy to see find her voice. The caption said something along the lines of “Stop being jealous of people in their winning season. You never know what they lost in their losing season.” Wow, did that hit me hard!

In a little over a year I lost my job, my best friend, my sense of security, my marriage, my grandfather, my house…anyway you get the point. I had a pretty rough losing season. I’m in the process of finding a new therapist after moving across the country and I’m learning to cope with my trauma in healthy ways.

I promised myself a little over a year ago that I’d never lose my voice again. I’d never refrain from speaking my truth. I’ll admit, I didn’t always go about things the right way. PTSD is something that I will live with for the rest of my life. I’ve recently struggled to remember so much. I’ve researched what PTSD does to the brain and as someone who used to remember every tiny little detail…I can’t put into words how much it hurts to watch videos of my children over and over again to try and replace those hard memories with something positive. This isn’t a poor pitiful Ashlee post by the way. It’s just so if anyone else finds themselves struggling…you know you are not alone.

When I started making Tiktok videos a little over a year ago, I had no idea that people would actually follow me. I just wanted a connection. I wanted to be a part of something again. Don’t we all? At work, I was struggling to come to terms with my depression and PTSD. I was doing everything I possibly could to hold on to the life that I had, no matter how flawed it may have been.

I would have never left. It didn’t matter how worthless I felt. It didn’t matter how toxic the work environment was. It didn’t matter how many times the police were called. In the end, I had to realize that It really didn’t matter who believed me or believed in me because I knew the truth. It has it’s way of coming full circle, but I’m not the best at being patient…or at least I wasn’t until I had to be.

I moved across the country with my four girls and I discovered that no matter what I was told in the past, I wanted to stay in the present. I had to remain in reality for my girls. I had to continue to fight for them but I had to fight for myself first. After spending months wanting to unlive, I forced myself to get outside. When I did, I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time and honestly thought I’d never experience again…excitement. I felt the warmth of the sun and I heard my little baby’s feet waddling/running (idk what it is, but it’s cute). I let my kids get extra snacks at the grocery store and I realized that I have to be the one to teach them that life doesn’t have to be so complex all the time. Sometimes we are going to go to a new park completely put together and some days we are just going to play in the backyard looking a hot mess still in PJs. But you know what? They’ll take either day as long as I’m happy.

When I left the grocery store, for a brief moment I remember thinking that all this STUFF, the heavy stuff, the stuff that keeps me up at 1am writing this blog post to keep from shutting down again…will always be with me. And it will. There’s no denying that. But so will the lessons I’ve learned, so will the people I’ve met and the places I’ve gone along the way. Growth is messy and healing isn’t easy or pain free. To be done with your losing season, you have to come to terms with the fact that your life will never be the same again, and that’s okay. It’s not supposed to be. If you’re challenging yourself every day and you know that you’re doing the best you possibly can…you will find your people.

I used to believe that we only had one soulmate and you should stay with that person until the end of time no matter what. I still have a hard time letting go of toxic. I had a hard time providing myself closure when someone shut the door on the opportunity of a clean break. I believe that we outgrow people. I believe that things happen to us and some of us can’t help but feel every little sting. And I couldn’t heal in the same place that broke me. I couldn’t drive by the same gas station or pull up in the driveway of the place where I lost my sense of security and who I was. Moving and changing my environment was hard, but it’s hard either way. I just had to choose a path and stick with it. And every day it gets a little easier. Sometimes I feel the sting, but I know that even though that feeling can be painful and STRONG, I KNOW that I’m stronger. I just finally see it now.

You are stronger than the thing that broke you. Don’t stop. Believe in you.

Follow me on Tiktok @ashleelemay where I share my chaotic motherhood journey! Let’s connect.

For collabs: ashleelemay@gmail.com

Job Loss and Confidence

Mental Health

I saw a video going around not too long that talked about describing who you are without any labels…without saying I’m a mom, a wife, a sister, friend, etc. Who are you without naming your occupation? Who are you without your degree or hiding behind your social circles? It hit me differently because I don’t think I know who I am without those things.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the process of giving everything you have to your family. It’s easy to define yourself by your occupation and bury yourself within your career. We grow up thinking that it’s normal to not be happy at work if the money is good. For years I worked night shift as a scientist and homeschooled my kids during the day. I had the best of both worlds…or at least that’s what I told myself.

I was proud of myself for finishing school despite having a second baby and I never wanted my girls to give up on their dreams because of a difficult situation. But was being a scientist really my dream? Was it? Maybe. Can our dreams change? Absolutely. You’re allowed to redefine yourself a hundred times over and it’s normal for your path in life to change. You are under no obligation to be who you WERE…one minute ago.

The problem with using those labels to define yourself is that sometimes life happens and those titles can be compromised in a heartbeat. I lost two jobs this year. Both times were unfair and handled poorly but when enough people say you do something it doesn’t really matter, does it? Before 2019, I’d never lost a job. I don’t even think I’d ever interviewed for a position that I didn’t receive an offer for. I went to school, got a degree, and even received a promotion at the job I thought I’d retire at. A couple weeks before I was brought into the office about my “negative influence on the workplace” and “intimidating behavior” I’d received a near perfect evaluation.

My performance review was nearly perfect and I wasn’t given much that I needed to work on. I got along with my coworkers, and I loved going to work. Despite the work environment being extremely toxic, I tried my best to make it work. I was diagnosed with PTSD and extreme anxiety after experiencing a very public trauma and I felt like my job was all I had left to hold on to. I couldn’t imagine starting over again or going through another change. After all, I’d spent years in school and given up so many hours with my children to accomplish goals that I thought would provide them (and me) a better life.

I went from being the lead of two departments as a Medical Laboratory Scientist to being unemployed. The years I’d given to that organization ended with less than a page notice that returning to work would not be best for my mental health. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make but looking back it wasn’t really much of a decision. I didn’t have a good choice. They’d proven they’d stop at nothing to make my life miserable there and it didn’t matter how much experience I had, how well I performed my job, or how much time I’d invested outside of work just to keep things peaceful when I was present.

Leaving taught me that life goes on whether you really want it to in the moment or not. It taught me that I’m more than a scientist, but also that someone else’s disapproval of me can’t take my degree or who I am away from me. Maybe I didn’t do the smartest thing, but I did the right thing. Doing the right thing doesn’t always pay off immediately, but I know that in time I will heal. That being said, I strongly believe that time heals nothing unless you move along with it. I needed to feel it. I needed to hit rock bottom so that I could learn to pick up the pieces and stop hiding behind the image of what I thought life was supposed to be like. Something tells me that I’m not alone in that feeling.

It took me a long time to begin to recognize the difference between my intuition guiding me, and my trauma misleading me. Losing a job is a loss. I needed to take the time to grieve but I didn’t know how to do that. I didn’t have a support system. Not truly. Everyone expected me to make lemonade out of lemons like I always do but I was too exhausted. Telling pieces of my story and realizing that I’m not alone has helped. I was too ashamed to admit, *even to myself* the full story because this wasn’t supposed to happen to me.

I’ve learned that hurt people, hurt people and I don’t want to be that person. I want to heal not only for myself but for my girls and the relationships that I will make in the future. There are so many things I want to get better at. As much as I didn’t want to leave certain people behind I’ve realized that it’s hard to turn the page when you know your favorite character won’t make it into the next chapter of your life…but the story must go on. It’s not finished yet. You’re not finished yet. You repeat what you don’t repair so please make peace with your broken pieces.

Follow along for more. Tiktok: @ashleelemay IG: @ashleeleighann

-The Zombie Mom

What I Learned from Losing my Best Friend…How to Deal with Ghosting and Rejection

Motherhood

I’m not a stranger to rejection. I don’t think anyone is…maybe everyone just deals with it differently. The last year was by far the most challenging of my life. I hurt more, cried more, felt all the things, and grew more than I ever imagined. Trauma tried to complete break me down and in some ways it did. I picked myself up and started over more times than I can count.

I felt like a failure at work no matter how hard I tried to get back to a place where I truly enjoyed what I did. I felt like no one truly had my back or could understand what I was going through. But how could they when I didn’t even understand what I was going through? I felt like a failure in my marriage and I dreaded being anywhere besides my bed (where I got very little time to even sleep between working nights and homeschooling four kids during the day). The only constant that I had in my life was my best friend. I thought she’d always be there. She was my person that I searched my whole life to find. She was the person that I wanted to be when I grew up. We went through pregnancy together, a toxic work environment together, Home Goods trips when we felt like we were about to break. We were neighbors, our kids were best friends, we went on vacations and lake trips together. Some of my best memories include planning our toddlers’ weddings, suffering through our little girls’ dance classes on no sleep after working all night. But we were in it together.

When I knew that my marriage was over but couldn’t admit it to myself, she picked me up more times than I could count. I couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t include planning birthday parties or a world where we didn’t wish each other’s kids Happy Birthday. I still can’t wrap my head around never having another pool day in the backyard with mimosas.

Losing someone who is still here was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. I’ve cried more tears at night over the loss of that relationship than I did when it finally sank in that my husband cared more about controlling me than saving our house or our family. I’m still angry that she couldn’t even have the decency of letting my kids say goodbye to their best friends before moving across the country.

I’m angry that she couldn’t support me in doing what was best for my children when I would have walked through fire for her. I’m so angry that she knew how panicked, how hurt, how scared, how broken I felt because she was the one person I opened up enough to to share those feelings and she couldn’t even give me a reason. She just ghosted me like you do someone who you have no emotional attachment to at all. I’m angry at myself for still wanting to reach out for answers after months of being ignored. I’m angry at myself for being angry. I hate that in giving so much of myself to other people I completely lost myself.

At the end of the day, the biggest loss of my life taught me that you have to love yourself. You have to believe in yourself enough to pick back up on the hard days. You have to find strength in who you are but to do that you have to know who you are without any labels. I could try to word this better and add in some bullshit about a beautiful tomorrow but the truth is that tomorrow isn’t promised. There is beauty in breaking but it hurts like hell. That’s the truth. It hurts like fucking hell.

As a mom of four, I’ve seen, heard and experienced alot of different cries. Some tears flow freely. But the ones that don’t come with alot of sting. The tears you try your hardest to hide from the world are the ones hurt the worst. Let it out. Don’t hold that shit in. Breathe. And move on. No matter how much you wanted them to want you…if they can’t at least respect you enough to give you an answer…they aren’t worth your time.

One thing that I’ve learned from suffering from PTSD is that you deal with trauma at some point or another. You don’t walk away completely unscathed. It might be something silly like a trip to Home Goods by yourself where you break down looking at Rae Dunn coffee mugs because it was much more fun with your best friend. It may be working in Seattle thinking about Grey’s Anatomy and realizing you don’t have anyone to discuss it with anymore. It might be a phone call from a complete stranger who is mentally disturbed a year after the worst moments of your life were broadcast on national television reminding you that you still don’t have answers. Triggers are different for everyone. But since I can’t avoid the pain, I’m choosing to move on the only way that I know how.

I’m choosing to forgive. I’m choosing to accept that I feel things and that’s okay. I’m choosing to keep the happy memories and hope that one day maybe my tears will be the ones that flow freely. I forgive myself for making excuses for someone who could have sent a simple text message. I’m vowing to try and be better at communicating my feelings even when it’s hard because I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I’m choosing to accept that just because I want something to be okay doesn’t mean that it is. We are all human and at the end of the day the basic rules, wants, and needs are the same. We don’t know what the hell we feel sometimes. At others we think we have it down to a science but we aren’t even close. We need interaction but fear getting close to anyone.

I don’t regret any of it. The world hasn’t hardened me yet and I still love her deeply. And I’m proud of myself for trying to fix what I broke even when she wouldn’t give me an answer. Forgiveness isn’t always for the other person. It’s so that we can pick up the broken pieces and try to put them back together again. Things will never be the same. I know that…I didn’t always, though. I used to fight so hard to avoid change. But I think I’m on to something. I don’t know what that is yet but I’m a hell of a lot closer than I was yesterday.

I Moved across the Country when Life Got Boring

Motherhood

I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t happy with my job. I wasn’t happy in my marriage. I no longer felt secure in my home and I could no longer tell my kids that everything would be okay with a sparkle in my eyes.

See, I used to carry the desire for adventure in my back pocket. I wanted to see the world, do something important…I wanted to help people and nothing was going to stop me. Steve Jobs once said that the people who believe they will change the world are the ones that actually do…or something like that. I’m typing this in notes on my iPhone while traveling surrounded by nothing but clouds. Honestly, it’s the only place that I find peaceful nowadays.

Life is funny like that…once your worst nightmare happens in your safe place, everything else is fair game. I lost my fear of flying or being bit by a shark. Oh yeah, about that…I met a guy on my travel assignment that survived a shark attack. Maybe it was then that I realized I’m my only limit. I learned that I invested way too much of my energy into caring what others thought about me. I don’t do that anymore. We’ve all had our own shark bites. We all deal with trauma in our own way and I’m still learning to deal with mine. What I do know is that I no longer expect people to understand. As a matter of fact, I hardly have expectations anymore. Life is better that way.

I’m no longer bitter. I no longer hold resentment towards the people who treated me unfairly. No matter how much I wanted them to be, they weren’t my people. I’m special. So are you. I care. Too much. And I’ve learned to love that about myself. I feel this way when I fly. Who are you without any labels? I don’t want to know if you’re a mother, what you do for a living, or what kind of car you drive.

Who ARE Y O U? Maybe that’s why flying does this to me…because I’m above all the pain, the labels, the responsibilities. I have time to think about who I am and what I want out of life without all the other distractions. I’m a better person when I take the time to reset. Aren’t we all? Give yourself some grace…some time. And realize that time doesn’t heal all wounds. Learn that it’s okay to be a little broken. But put yourself back together in a way that matters. PTSD and trauma never completely go away, but I’ll be damned if I let it destroy me. I will rise above it. I’ll fly in the clouds as many times as it takes without offering an apology to anyone for how I choose to reconfigure the broken parts of me. I’ll swim in the middle of the ocean in a country I’ve never been, hike a mountain in a new state, and say hi to a stranger even though it makes me uncomfortable. Because being comfortable is boring anyway and I want to feel alive again.

Things You Save in a Fire Book Review and Mental Health Tips

books, Mental Health

If you haven’t read Things You Save in a Fire, I highly recommend that you do. I recently had one of my social media followers ask about books I recommend for mental health. Personally, I have a hard time finishing self help books. I follow podcasts, Ted Talks, and watch a lot of documentaries. I read ALOT, whether it be a book or an article. I personally relate more to story telling. I love books that I am able to escape reality with but also learn something. Things You Save in a Fire taught me how to begin to move on from something that caused me severe trauma and PTSD. The steps to forgiveness and why it is important to forgive even when someone will no longer be a part of your life completely changed my thought process. I didn’t believe that it was possible to see the good in a situation so devastating. I thought that if I admitted that any good had come from that situation, I was saying that was slightly less awful. As a mother, how do you feel okay saying that something good came from a situation that stole your child’s innocence?

Step One: To forgive you must admit that someone hurt you. That sounds easy enough, right? While I will admit that most of the time this is the easiest step, for fellow empaths or others who overanalyze every situation, this isn’t always a piece of cake. I have always been hard on myself. As the saying goes, you are your own worst critic. I realized that in an attempt to control the uncontrollable, I caused myself destructive anxiety. I believe that there is such thing as a worry that is productive. Being excited about something can be an exceptional motivation factor, but being anxious about something that you have absolutely no control over is destructive. I have a desire to fix everyone and every situation. I want to know what I did wrong and I’d rather be wrong because then I can be proactive about the situation. Admitting that someone else caused me pain and the situation was not within my power to alter was extremely hard for me. Seeing those words in writing while reading someone else’s story put everything into perspective. I knew the answers all along and I was fighting to change something that I had no choice but to accept or let it destroy me. Admit to yourself that you allowed someone to get close to you. Admit to yourself that you were a victim of a crime. Admit to yourself that you are a little bit broken right now. Admit to yourself that you are allowed to feel pain. To become a survivor, you have to feel what you need to feel first. Feeling the pain now allows your body to time to process the emotions. As someone who still suffers from PTSD, I thought that avoiding the emotions would keep me from feeling pain.

For example, I tried my best to stay off social media. Don’t misread what I’m saying. Taking a break from social media and distancing yourself from any kind of negative environment is a good thing. In my case, social media was important to me before the trauma. I stayed in touch with my family and friends and by avoiding it all together, as well as not allowing myself to process my trauma in a healthy way, I cast the entire trauma off on social media. I didn’t know who to blame anymore. I didn’t even have a lucid version of what actually happened in my mind. I became triggered everytime I received an email or text message. I dreaded checking social media accounts to the point where I had anxiety attacks just thinking about reading a message. I associated any pain that I was feeling with social media. In the process, I missed positive messages from friends and family and pushed people who wanted to support me away.

It’s important to admit what happened. I am all about taking responsibility for what I do wrong, and I would never tell you to place blame where it is not due. However, we have so many negative thoughts that go through our head every single day. Telling yourself that something was your fault when it wasn’t will not make the pain go away. It will not give you any more control over the situation. It will only prolong the healing process. Admitting what happened is important for the next step.

Step Two: Acknowledge that the person who hurt you is flawed, like all people are. To me, this was a lot bigger than just saying that someone sucked. It was saying that in a way, we are all a little broken. Our flaws can add character, and they can cause some serious damage. In acknowledging that the person who hurt me is flawed, I also acknowledged that I was. I learned that sometimes it’s no one’s fault. Sometimes two people can be toxic for each other. People don’t always apologize and you won’t always receive the closure that you so desperately hoped for. Part of the healing process is gaining an understanding of what happened. In no way do I mean fixate on the situation or allow it to control your life. But you need to have an idea of what went wrong, the parts of the situation that you do have control over, and the parts that you do not. You can control your reaction to someone else’s actions, but you cannot control their actions.

What do you do when the person who hurt you is blaming you? This question is precisely why forgiveness is so important. Forgiving someone else is not always for them. It’s so that you can move on. If you blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in life, not only will you be miserable, but you will limit yourself in ways that you cannot even imagine. So again, feel what you need to feel…and then move on. You are in no way saying that because all people have flaws, someone’s flaws did not hurt you. You are simply saying that imperfections can cause pain and gaining a better understanding of boundaries that you may need to set in the future.

Are you ready for step three? I know I wasn’t, but here goes.

Step Three: Find something positive that would not have happened if the situation had not occurred. For the longest time I thought that finding something good discredited me. I thought that finding a glimmer of light and hope would give someone the power to say that I spent no time in the dark. The trauma we suffered was real. I know this because I finally allowed myself to feel. That doesn’t mean that I’m never allowed to experience joy again. That doesn’t mean that I can’t find peace and move on. It doesn’t mean that I wanted this to happen to me. Finding the good in a bad situation allows you to change your story. It doesn’t delete the chapters before it. They will always be with you. But it allows room for new characters and events. Someone once told me that the reason some people stay stuck in the worst moments of their life is because that’s all they have. They live in that moment because it was significant.

I don’t want to give too much of the book away because you really should read it for yourself, but I will reference a part of the book (with no spoiler context) that was super relateable to me. One of the characters mentioned that when she envisioned her trauma, she pictured herself as scared and hopeless. When she finally embraced the power of forgiveness, she pictured the woman that she had become sitting alongside the scared little girl. She pictured herself giving her a hug and letting her know that it will be okay. That might sound crazy to some, but for trauma victims it’s common to feel as though your life was split into two parts: the part of you that lived before the trauma, and the person that you became afterwards. The middle can be kind of hazy sometimes. Your body has a way of shutting down some of those thoughts and preventing you from remembering certain things. Don’t spend so much time wishing that the past didn’t happen. It did. But what are you going to do about it? Are you going to remain stuck in the moment? Will you use your knowledge to help others see the light?

If you found this helpful, let me know in a comment and feel free to follow along! Follow me on IG: @ashleeleighann and TikTok @ashleelemay.

-The Zombie Mom

DIY Cotton Candy Ice Cream

DIY, Motherhood

This week we have been on a cotton candy kick! Alyssa and Addalise got a Nostalgia Cotton Candy maker for their birthday last year and we finally decided to pull it out and give it a whirl. Of course we are all addicted now! We have an ice cream maker also and use it ALL the time. Before this, we only attempted vanilla and chocolate homemade ice cream. Both were delicious, of course! For this recipe, you do not need an ice cream maker. Cotton Candy ice cream is so fun and full of summer vibes! I actually tried it before adding sugar and was surprised that it actually tasted good (not big on sugar free personally, but if you need sugar free recipes this one is good with or without).

WHAT YOU NEED:

2 Cups Heavy Cream
1 14 ounce can Sweetened Condensed Milk
Cotton Candy Flavoring
Sugar
Food Coloring
Mixing Bowls
Mixer
Dish to freeze ice cream in

Step One: First you will pour your two cups of heavy cream into a large bowl. You will mix until the heavy cream becomes thick. You should be able to turn the bowl upside down and have no liquid come out.

Step Two: Once you are done mixing your heavy cream, add one can of sweetened condensed milk. You will fold the sweetened condensed milk into the havy cream to mix the two together.

Step Three: Add two tablespoons of sugar

Step Four: Add half a teaspoon of cotton candy flavoring and mix everything together.

Step Five: Separate the mixture into two separate bowls (same amount in each bowl)

Step Six: Add blue food coloring to one bowl and red food coloring to the other. I needed about 5-6 drops of blue, and about 2 drops of red.

Step Seven: Alternate scooping blue and pink into the dish you will use to freeze the ice cream. It should look something like this at this point.

Step Eight: Cover dish and put in freezer for 4-6 hours. I used a Pyrex dish with a lid, but you can cover with saran wrap also.

Once your ice cream is frozen, Scoop out and enjoy! We used fancy ice cream bowls that my Mamaw gave us, which made it extra special since it’s tough to see loved ones right now ❤

Let me know if you found this helpful. Feel free to follow along for more DIY, parenting hacks, homeschooling, etc.

Follow me on IG: @ashleeleighann

-The Zombie Mom

How to Make a DIY Car Wash this Summer for Super Cheap

DIY, Motherhood

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I posted a silly TikTok with our DIY carwash and several friends wanted to know how to make their own! I originally did this a couple of years ago when I was first getting into photography and absolutely loved the way the photos turned out. It’s a super fun mini session to offer during the summer months, and fun for all the kiddos. It’s not super expensive, and right now when it’s hard to find a pool filter…it’s a great way to be able to enjoy going outside.

Supply List:

(9) 1″ elbows
(7) 1″ tees
(2) 1″ crosses
PVC Hose Adapter
(20) 1×30″ pipe
(3) 1×37″ pipe

Making the Frame:

Lay two of the 30″ pipes on each side (parallel to each other, using 4 pieces of 30in pipe so far). You will then connect the pieces with tees in the middle.
You will put elbows on the ends of three pipes, and a tee on one end. The tee is what you will connect your PVC Hose Adapter to later.
Once connected, add 6 of the 30in pipes vertically (three on each side). In the front and back of your car wash frame, put a tee on each of the vertical 30in PVC pipes.
You can go ahead and add the cross sections in the middle vertical pieces if that makes it easier.
In the front and back of the carwash fram, add 4 pieces of 30in pipe vertically and use a tee and a 37″ pipe horizontally to connect them at the top. This will complete almost everything but the middle section of your frame. For your cross fittings, you will put them in the middle section of the car wash on both sides (if you haven’t already, I waited until this step).
Once you have the cross fitting on each side, add two 30in pipes on each side of the car wash to connect the sides laterally (four pieces in total).
Add 30in pipes on both sides vertically (middle section only, so 2 peices), and use an elbow on each pipe to connect the 37in pipe at the top. This will complete the middle section of the frame.

How to get the water to flow:

You are going to drill holes about 1in apart (this does not have to be exact). We used a 1/16 drill bit to make the holes. Attach a standard water hose to the front of the car wash by using a PVC hose adapter connected to a tee.

Completing your Car Wash:

Gather up pool noodles, sponges, plastic streamers, etc. I grabbed little spray bottles from Target that were about a dollar. I got them from the Beauty section one year in bright colors. I got sponges from the dollar store and hung them from the car wash. Pool Noodles can be combine with streamers so that you don’t have to purchase as many noodles. Another suggestion for truly making this a DIY project is cutting floats that have holes in them to make plastic strips. You can also use plastic table cloths to make your streamers. Just cut them into pieces. We also used a leaf blower as a “dryer” for our car wash at one point, ha.

Have Fun:

Grab your scooter, coop car, box car, or just run through the car wash like a sprinkler! Wash your cars with sponges. Bring on your best pretend play! This will occupy your kids for hours! Splash in puddles, grab rain boots. The possibilities are endless with this DIY summer hack!

Optional Ideas:

Make a sign in front of your car wash and teach your kids about running a business. Talk to them about what is going on in the world right now and how being resourceful is necessary. I like to use everything as a fun learning opportunity!

Let me know if you found this helpful. Feel free to follow along for more DIY hacks, budgeting tips, parenting reads, and more. I post daily on IG also. @ashleeleighann

-The Zombie Mom