My first book – Conversations With My Therapist

I wrote a book that touches on many of the common issues of women today. It’s not written just for women it’s just that I am one, a woman. I speak on abuse, both emotional and physical, divorce, and abortion. I show the reader my transformation from a timid lost girl to a woman with power. I let the reader experience my feelings and thoughts throughout the process. My goal is to empower others to find their own strength.

I’m new to publishing, and once in awhile I feel a streak of fear run through my system; but, my story is the same as many others’ and the world needs it. The more people who know the secrets and the better others understand, then maybe it can stop. Maybe reading my story will help another escape his or her hell. Maybe.

Please let me know if you’re interested. I’m an open book now.

Thank you for reading,


conversations with my therapist


My Book – Conversations with my Therapist – A Path To Freedom

Imagine for yourself what it would be like to be free. Truly free. I allow you to be like a fly on the wall listening to the many conversations I had with my therapist. You get to read my mind as I go through some of the most intimidating, intimate, and private times of my life.

I’ve never written a book before now. It was definitely a daunting task. I believe, though, that all of my time and energy was more than worth it. May you be blessed in your journey.

Below is a link to my book, it’s available through Amazon.

thank you for reading,

My book is finally done!

It’s done! My book is finally finished awaiting publishing. I’ve been writing it for five years, but only knew that I was writing it for a little over one year. That’s what happens when you journal. My journallings have been a consistent way for me to get my thoughts out of my head. With so many things going on, my head was noisy! I could barely hold a single thought longer than a few seconds, my thoughts would race from one event to another and I couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep. Journalling provided my means of escape.

My book? It’s a good book. It still makes me cry, smile, and laugh. It brings back terrible memories yet provides proof of how amazing my life is now. It shows how a person can climb her way out of chaos and create a life that she loves. It provides proof that life is changeable, no matter your age. If I can do it so can you. It shows determination, fear, love, peace, and hate. It is my first written masterpiece and I’m excited that it’ll finally be published.

I will let you know how to purchase it, hopefully within the next week. It’s terrifying letting my secrets out of my closet for millions to read. Yet it is so freeing, knowing that I can be authentically me. No more hiding, no more lies, just me. Thank you for being a sounding board as I struggled to find my way to air. May you, my readers, be blessed beyond your wildest dreams.

thank you for reading,


My how life has changed!

Over the past several years I have struggled to learn more about me and about everything else, but mostly me. I decided to go to back to school where I struggled daily just trying to keep up. I learned how to use my brain again, how to remember things, and how to apply what I’ve learned. Most importantly I learned how to breathe again.

As a child each of us has a natural instinct to try new things, learn everything, touch anything, and test what works and doesn’t work. We are free like the wind and it’s all our parents can do to rein us in so that we don’t get hurt. As children our dreams are huge; president, astronaut, pilot, save the world… As we grow we fight for it and often lose to the mundanity of life. We forget who we really are and who we really want to be.

As a child I never thought I would be a pharmacist, my goal was to save the world. I was going to find the cure for HIV and end that disease forever. I had high hopes and I even worked in that field for a little while. Not once did I think I would become a pharmacist.

The years passed, I had kids, lived a ‘normal’ life and just plodded along. I began to notice that things didn’t make sense anymore. I began to see that there were skeletons hanging everywhere, not just in people’s closets. It became obvious that things were off. Dreams had been squashed, projects unfinished, hopes discarded, and life was almost unbearable.

I decided to make a change. I went back to school. While schooling I still held certain beliefs in my gut. I didn’t believe that I was smart, or that I had any power whatsoever. My belief in me was below that of a snail. I had rather be hurt than let another and so I entered school as a mouse in a trap. I was timid, careful, untrusting, and above all other things scared. I had no idea who I really was or how I was supposed to be or act.

Now? Five years have gone by. Five amazing, event filled years! I have cried, screamed, dreamed, and even thought about killing myself. I continued though. There was always just a little something, a little spark somewhere inside, that wouldn’t let me quit. I would grit my teeth, wipe my eyes, blow my nose, and keep on going. I wanted to quit, I wanted to hide, I wanted to just disappear more times than I can count.

Sometimes I did disappear. Once in a while I would take off for a weekend and come back a little better. What, though, did I learn? I learned: I am smart, I am beautiful, I can do this, I do deserve good things, and I am important. How did I learn all of this? One tiny, awful, step at a time. One bruise, scratch, head ache, sleepless night, at a time. The tiniest of motion forward despite all of the negativity. I just stayed in motion, no matter what.

If I could help you with one thing, by telling you the thing that made the biggest impact? What would it be? Would it be study harder? Sleep less? No. On the contrary, it would be rest. Rest often. Stop, be still, breathe. Smell the flowers and watch the sun set. Life is worth living, take the time to enjoy it. It sums up as one thing, take care of yourself.

The biggest lesson I have learned is to take care of me. I hope that you will join me in life by remembering to take care of you. You deserve it, you are smart, you are beautiful, you are important. It’s true, you are.

thank you for reading,


Claiming Power in Life

As I prepare for life outside of university, I have discovered that life is really up to me. Yeah, I know that’s obvious, but hear me out. For the last five years I’ve had my scheduled planned by outside forces, specifically school. I had to arrange all that I do around when my classes and exams were. There was no way to change any of it. What they said was what I had to do if I wanted to pass.

Prior to school, my life was led by my family, specifically my husband and kids. If I wanted to do something on my own, for me, I had to make certain it was okay with everyone else in the house. My name was last on the list. My husband, kids, dogs, all came before me when it came to scheduling ‘free’ time.

Prior to marriage, my life was again controlled by university. Prior to that I was a child.

Now? Now, for the first time in my life I get to choose whether I get up in the morning or not. I get to decide if I want dessert for breakfast, whether I want to take a shower, or laze around in my pajamas all day. I get to decide how and who I want to be.

This is odd. It’s odd because I have no idea who that is. Who is the person who rules my body? Who is the one who controls my thoughts? Is it really me? Weird. Who is responsible if everything fails? Me? Wow. The enormity of it all is breathtaking. The ability to decide how my life will be from here on out?

Yes. I get it. I cannot have a great life if I just sleep all day, never shower, never eat… I know that. But, I have the power to choose. I may have had that power before but I never claimed it. So who do I want to be? How do I want to look? behave? What on earth am I supposed to do? ‘Supposed to?’ What’s that about?

Life. What a rush! Claiming my power has been the absolute hardest, and most rewarding, thing I have ever done. Claim yours. Need help? I’m willing to chat about it.

thank you for reading,


Introducing Me

Now that I’ve run this blog for several years and now that I am now free from a lot of stuff… and now that I’ve graduated… and now that I have a book that’s almost ready to be published… I guess it’s time to out myself. My name is Wendi. I’m a 45 year old woman who loves hard and cries hard. Life is short and I’m done hiding.

This was taken at my graduation pary. I was ‘hatted’ and ‘laid’ when I walked in the door.

There are a lot of things that I regret in my past, and if you want to know it just read my posts. But, those things are only one side of who I am. The other side of me, the sensitive, forgiving, loving side; the part of me that I actually like, that part wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for the ugly parts. My life has been shaped, molded, over all of these years into who I am today. I like who I am today, so why would I give up on that. Some days it’s harder to forgive than others, but I’ve learned to love myself. I’ve learned to be gentle with myself, as well as with others. Being gentle makes all the difference. Life is about the little things, always the little things. So be kind to yourself today, let yourself breathe, let yourself stop for a moment and be still. Love yourself, you deserve it too.

thank you for reading,


Experimenting with Nightmares

I love my life. I love how I get to choose who I speak to and who I spend time with. I like that my kids want to be with me and I love the opportunity to be with them as they grow up. I even love that I’m in school, loving more that school is almost done. I love it all. My life is amazing. Yet… I still feel the sting, burn, of my past.

I had hoped that I could establish a ‘friendly’ relationship with my ex. I set myself out to be kind, to learn to speak of small things, to chat while waiting for the kids. Two or more times I put myself out there, allowed myself to be just a tad more vulnerable, allowed myself to ignore my feelings of fear, of abandonment, and of abuse. I thought, since all of the legal mumbo jumbo had finally ended, that I’d be able to show a positive forward movement for my kids to see. I want them to have the best in their lives. I don’t want them to see me complaining or whining. I want them to see me strong, brave, and willing to ‘make amends’ for their benefit. I wanted to see if I could handle it, you know, test the waters.

I started to get grouchy, I started having nightmares again, I began to feel tired all of the time. I got sick. I felt overwhelmed, lost, and scared. My old feelings began to resurface and I finally caught on. I wasn’t ready. ‘The way to get over a fear is to immerse yourself in it.’ I believe that’s true. I, however, don’t think I’m going to ever get over the abuse. In fact, I don’t think I’m supposed to. What happened to me in my past has shaped who I am, and I like who I am. I have an empathy for those who have walked similar paths. I care in a way that allows others to grow. By allowing that my past is real, by remembering I didn’t make it up, by knowing that he was plain evil to me, and it wasn’t my imagination; I have the opportunity to be truly who I am meant to be.

I have a habit of slighting myself. I don’t give myself credit for the things I’ve accomplished. I have belittled myself, and spoken words to myself that no one should ever hear. That needs to change. The power I gain by remembering who I am, by being honest to myself, and others; that power is mine for the taking. I am the one who was there. I was the one who packed up the kids to hide. I was the one who collected rent money near midnight alone. I was the one who faced the fury of our neighbors. I was the one who slept with the kids when they were ill. I was the one who manged the house, the bills, the schooling and numerous other things. I was the one who earned the respect of my kids. He was not.

He was the one who pouted when he didn’t get his way, he was the one who whined and who gave up. He was the one who couldn’t decide if he was happy, sad, or angry. He was the one who sat and cleaned his gun, who left in the middle of the night, who left me crying at church. He was the one who went to sleep rather than see that I made it home safe from working an extra serving job. He was the one who didn’t care that I had hit a deer at one in the morning. He was the one who pushed me against the wall, who held me too tight and bruised my arms, who pushed his son into the door, who punched his nephew in the stomach, him.

I spent too much time in his presence. I saw him on Tuesday and came home remembering how awful it was. Although he didn’t touch me, I could still feel the weight of his body and the slime of his skin on me. I could still smell him and it affected me. This isn’t a problem that time is going to fix. What he did while we were together was wrong, always will be wrong. I will not be subjecting myself to making things better again. This new strength and freedom that I have found must be protected. He does not have the right to real estate in my head, let alone my body.

I was snappy, sarcastic, and rude to my family that night. They had done nothing wrong and didn’t deserve to be the brunt of my emotions. True, I didn’t realize why I felt the way I did, but now I do. In order to protect my family, I need to protect myself; and that includes putting my kids’ dad back into the little box in my head that he belongs. The test of strength, the test to see if I could deal with him? That was a success, not a failure. I have learned, I can be cordial, friendly and kind; but I don’t have to do it unnecessarily. I have a right to protect who I am and who I am becoming. We all have that right.

thank you for reading,