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The Struggle of the Shell and the Soul

11 Mar


We are all on a journey in this life. All for different purposes and all with varying degrees of struggle. The one constant that bonds all of us is that there is struggle, whatever it may be. And so if me putting my truth out there might help someone, I want to.  I’m learning that it doesn’t matter what I write or say these days,  I’m finding and accepting that it’s interpreted only at the level of intellect others have.  And while I’m not judging, I’ve found judgment of me to be exhausting.  Which is why the biggest part of my present journey is not letting those judgements and others thoughts and words affect me. Letting them go because to those who truly matter…judgement is never part of the conversation. It’s true acceptance and unconditional love. And that my friends, is what life is about. Being you in your full glory and accepting yourself and having a select few hold your hand through the messy.  It brings me to my daughter struggles. And let me tell you, my girl…she’s amazing. Some days she’s overly sassy and obnoxious as comes with the preteen age. Some days she’s quiet an vulnerable needing guidance and hugs while other days it’s just her doing her thing and shining in all her glory. I’ll take her however she comes. It’s when insecurities pop up that I see myself and want so much more for her.

Yesterday her and I went bathing suit shopping for her.  I’ve always hated going for myself. Struggling with my weight and trying to find a happy confident place isn’t just my struggle. It’s most likely a good portion of a people’s issues.  I’ve struggled since after high school with my weight and that has never been a struggle I wanted her to have. And I sort of thought I was in the clear. We picked out a couple of suits and I watched her inspect and sway and smile and dance in the dressing room. I saw her spirit and I really thought she was ok.  I searched her eyes and I saw her searching but I wasn’t sure what for, until we got in the car and she quietly turned her head and I saw tears.  So I asked her, and after some moments she looked over and said “Mommy, do you think I’m fat?” And instantly I was beyond sad. Please know the word fat is never used in my house. I stopped making fun of my weight and me being every dude’s “pudgy pal” a long time ago. I never knew how damaging it was to me and to her. So I vowed to use empowering words because this is EXACTLY what I never wanted to happen. I felt like an instant failure as a mom, however this wasn’t about me, my job was helping her.  “Rae, tell me your thoughts.”  “I’m fat, Mom. I’m slow and I’m fat.”

What I tried to explain to her and I hope in time she absorbs it, is that we all have things we don’t like about us…. our insecurities.  So I asked her what part of her she didn’t like. Let’s face it, we have parts.  And she didn’t really name any specifically. However I looked at her and told her (and now I’m admitting it to all 5 of you who are reading this) that my whole life,  I am most insecure about my bottom and my legs.  That I work on being comfortable with them every day but that is my true thorn. The reason why I rarely wear shorts, the reason why I’m trying to be more comfortable in shorter dresses.  I work them like a beast most every day. They’ve taken me through ten half marathons, a full marathon, countless races and I’ve worked like the dickens to make them stronger in OrangeTheory… and while they don’t look the part, they are strong as fuck. Yes I said strong as fuck to my daughter.  Chicks are queens of filters and smoothing out their lumps and bumps. I’ve got them and I’m trying to be accepting of them. But it takes one shitty comment to let the insecure me right back out.

So the next part of our conversation… “Rae, name one thing you like about yourself.” Something that when you look, makes you smile. “Hmmm….my eyes.   What about you, Mom” “Currently…my shoulders.  But I try and look for something new everyday. So tomorrow, I’m asking you the same question. Sometimes we have to learn to love ourselves one piece at a time.” And she grabbed my hand, smiled and we continued the rest of the ride home in comfortable silence. And when we got home, she asked to go right to the pool with her brand new suit and did so with a smile.

Truth be it told,  I’m learning more everyday that my outside is just my shell. I love dressing it up, I love my curves, I love attempting to dress it up with things that make me feel beautiful.  But when push comes to shove, it’s not my shell….it’s my soul. It’s what you see when you look deep.  You have to be beautiful inside first. And so that’s what my lesson is to  my dearest little (But not so little anymore) girl.  She’s beautiful inside and that will reflect on the outside.  She’s has more than a beautiful shell…she’s got a damn beautiful heart.

We all want to work on the shell. It keeps life interesting, I suppose.  However, the hardest work happens on the inside. The true struggles. Our hearts, our souls… our true selves.  Some of us doubt ourselves and cover up our full potential. Some of us hide parts of ourselves to please others.  People pleasing only serves to extinguish your spark. No one knows that better than little ol’ me. I know we do these things to make life comfortable and easier. But I think I’m ready to spice it up a bit. Nothing good ever came from a comfort zone.  So when you look for beauty…it’s in the eyes and the soul…without a filter. I pray my kiddos will know that with enough guidance. And I pray maybe I’ve inspired one person to look past their own shell and love what’s deep inside.



Until Next time…

DP Babbles


Do you care?

2 Oct



The other day a friend of mine texted me. She was having a wanting to cry moment and needed to vent. Her words struck a chord:

“I feel like I’m too nice to everyone and get used and abused…I’m sick of being there for everyone and when is someone going to be there for me? Like what the fuck ”

I was at first a little overwhelmed. Not because I didn’t have anything to say. It’s because I didn’t quite know where to start. I wanted to reassure her that her time is coming. That one day she won’t feel like that but I can’t say I don’t understand.  I know exactly how she feels. However, feeling like this makes me feel guilty. And in no way would I ever want her to feel guilty for honest feelings. She’s a giver..and she deserves the world.

Do you ever put yourself out there for people and although you don’t really have an expectation, you just want to know what it’s like to get what you give?  But then you feel awfully selfish for feeling that way because …why do you have the right to expect shit from anyone.  We don’t really. Everyone is so self absorbed that we tend to not be able to even imagine what we could be putting others through.  And I don’t want to be self absorbed which is why I try and go out of my way to make sure others know they are wanted and appreciated in my life. However, I know that sometimes I fail miserably. But I own it. And I can’t quite understand why others don’t take that kind of ownership.

I had a crappy feeling about a friend. I just had a bad feeling and wanted to know everything was ok. I just get those feelings sometimes. I checked in. I got a whole bunch of silence.  I spent the rest of the day that day wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. Why do I even try?  It sucks to feel that way. It sucks to feel like maybe you aren’t worth even a quick response. Yet, I refuse to change that about me. It wears on your heart though.  Caring wears on your heart.

I really try to appreciate others. I watch friends do the same. It’s just nice to feel appreciated for being you, but it’s unfortunate not everyone gives a shit about you. And if they do, apparently priorities can be a bitch, I suppose.

Another friend and I were driving the other day and talking about this very thing and she said “Donna, it’s just not right. If you care about someone, you just don’t treat people like that.”  And I want to say that’s wrong, but in reality…it’s not.

But here’s the thing… whether you have a small circle or maybe a slightly larger one, this is what I think.  This is what I’d now tell my friend after thinking on it:

Don’t stop caring. Don’t stop giving a shit. Sometimes it’s going to hurt and sometimes it’s not. But I’d never want to leave this Earth without people understanding that unconditional is unconditional. That  my heart cares. And if you don’t give a shit… then don’t give a shit. But if you do… don’t give up in a world where more of that kind of heart is needed.  If one person doesn’t appreciate it, don’t fret…cause someone will.  I promise.  I will make my plate bigger for those I love. They are worth that.

I get people have shit going on. But I’d never let anyone feel like they don’t matter if I could help it.  I’d never be so self absorbed that I wouldn’t be able to at least mutter the words “I care” .  Some people I understand more than others so I really  do try to understand. But others leave me puzzled.

So I swallow down feeling stupid…and I’ll say   “I fucking care!!!”  I’m saying I care out loud.  We all fuck it up  at some point. It could range from your spouse to Aunt Jemimah, but shit happens. We’re not perfect. So show love when you can. Say I’m sorry when you fuck up. And don’t stop caring. The world needs that from you. Just do you…because you, my friend, are a fucking masterpiece. And in case no one told you… you giving a shit about others is a gift… and I know sometimes it hurts, but I won’t give up if you don’t. It’s our chick pact in life.

So, love, forgive, and give when you can. And if you can’t, let others love, forgive and give to you. That’s ok too. You’re time will come. That’s the positive in me whispering my greatest lessons in life, patience and faith.

Until next time…

DP Babbles

The fixer…

9 Sep



As of late I’ve thought a lot about what people think of me. A lot of what I am or not to others.   I’d love to sit in the minds of some people I know and see what they see in me, for a hot second.  However, I wish some could see how I see them. Which brings me to “the fixer” in me.

I was caring for a patient this evening and her mom was frustrated and kept snapping at me. I’m the most get along chick there is when it comes to parents. I’m usually the one sent in to smooth ruffled feathers. If there’s a family in need of smoothing… I’m that chick… proudly. I know my strengths and that’s one of them.  However today I stood there changing the bedsheets  and knew she wasn’t snapping at me…she was snapping at the situation. So I looked at her and was honest.  “Listen…I’m a fixer. That’s why I became a nurse. I want to make things better. You have no idea how much I want to fix this for you. I want to make your daughter better. I want to take your anxiety away. And I can’t. But I’ll be here every step of the way and take away what I can.” And it’s the truth. I hope she found comfort in those words.

I’ve had some frustrated friends lately. And it kills me when I can’t fix things. It may have nothing to do with me…but want to make them happy. I want to take away their sadness. And I want to be their rock. And fuck…I hate when I can’t make it better. Or when I further frustrate the situation. It’s almost like physical pain for me. So what do I do?

I overthink…and I blame myself and make me the enemy.  And really, I’m just not that important in life to think it’s about me. It’s not, but… what if I made it worse.  I mean, I can’t possibly be all to everyone… but to the people in my life that matter. I want them to know they can count on me.  I want them to know they can be sad, angry or frustrated and it’s ok. Whatever you are…is ok. You can talk out of your ass and say things just to say them. Or say things you mean but not be judged. You can bring your real. And maybe I can’t fix it, but I’ll sit in the dark and hold your hand through it. Do you want to know why? The reason is two fold. First and foremost because I truly give a shit about those I give a shit about. If I answer you any time after midnight…know I’ve got mad love for you. If I pause my smutty book reading to answer you, you have a piece of my heart. That’s just the truth.

But also, because deep down, like most humans, I’d want the same for me.  I don’t want to be disappointed. I want someone to be there for me in the same way. But I’m quiet and I tend not to speak up when I need . But I was reminded at least twice in the last month  by two people that, if I’m not honest about what I need  from my friends, when I need it… then how can anyone be there.  However, I’m stubborn, and I find that most people are. I’m going to try and ride it out alone. But I’m learning.  I mean…isn’t that what we’re all trying to do? Get through it and learn from it? Or just get through?

So, like most overthinkers, I overthink… and I pray that I can help.  That I can be there for the people who matter to me. That I won’t let anyone down. I know what that feels like. But it’s life. And life sometimes is sweet and forgiving and sometimes it just fucks you back… and hard.

So when your having that moment when life is having it’s awful way with you, please understand that your real people will be there. The ones who tell you… I’d like to think if you ask, I deliver. The ones who tell you faith and patience always win . The ones who hug you and tell you,  life sucks, but I’m here.

Stick with those, through thick and thin…and I promise together we can get through anything… anything.

Until Next Time,

DP Babbles


Facebook Perfect?

3 Aug


I’ve been thinking a lot lately about life and how it is portrayed and perceived by others.  We always hear the words Facebook perfect, Instagram perfect…or whatever the hell it is.  And after listening to people around me these days, I think I get it. Someone will inevitably pick this blog apart and look for pieces of my life. The truth is…this isn’t just my life. It’s yours, and everyone elses. And if you so choose to delve in and try and make assumptions, please feel free, but do so knowing you don’t know what you don’t know. It really is true, ya know, what they say about assuming.  This has to do with everyone’s life…not just mine.

I was thinking about life and circumstances and it really did hit me why people try so hard to portray perfect on social media.  I’m not normally one of those people, although I think we all are to some degree or another.  But I get it now. Because when life is imperfect and you show a glimpse of imperfect…. it creates a crack. A crack in the foundation of your persona… and that crack unfortunately is opportunity.   It’s the opportunity to talk shit. It’s the opportunity to look down upon others. It’s an opportunity to gloat and feel better about yourself. People suck. Mean people suck. And social media has created a breed of mean people that will bring down even those with the best of intentions, those same bullies who often take it into reality and make real efforts to cause harm.  And it should stop. It’s not going to, but it should. It’s not just social media per se, because we all know that bullies were around long before the World Wide Web started spinning it’s silk.  It has made me realize just how awful people are. How instead of having meaningful conversations and deep thinking… we now have gossip and innuendo. We talk about people and not important things. We dampen others spirits and destroy without even thinking what that means.

I’ll tell you what it means though…it means that your office banter may prevent someone from seeking support when they need it. Your judgements means someone could think their life is less important. Your gossip could destroy lives.  Your bullying could destroy a human being.  Your assumptions may crush someone’s drive and goals. Your doubt could destroy a perfectly good soul.

No one is perfect. Life isn’t perfect. However, decency is lacking these days. And quite honestly from listening… I’ve learned. And I get it. So if you need to portray your perfect so someone doesn’t see your cracks, I support you.   If you want to show your imperfect because life can’t be, I support you.   I’ll support you at 2am when you can’t sleep.   I’m just going to be there… because I’m that person. I’m refusing to be like the “others”.  I’m going to be the one who builds you up when everyone’s talking shit. I’m going to be the one who won’t assume…because I refuse. I’m going to say fuck it and not go with the flow. I won’t believe everything I read just because it appears in front of my eyes. I certainly will pass the office banter because it’s destructive.

I’m going to concentrate on being a better me. And I’m still going to be Facebook and Instagram imperfect because I just don’t give a shit.  I admitted to someone the other day that I thought I should be less. Because just maybe I’m too much for people.That I’m not going to be me anymore.  And I was told something that really has made me think. “Why would you not be you. People love you because you’re you. You should be you…because you make people laugh.”   Truth be it told. Many people know me, but I can only count on a few fingers…those who truly “see” me. It’s nice to be seen. I’m appreciative of those select few.  I could not live without them. Life would suck without them.  So I’m going to be me…and fuck anyone who doesn’t like it.

So join me in being kind. Join me in building up.  And stop being a douchebag. Mind your own damn business. May your whispers and assumptions not be regarded and may you realize there are ways to support people without being destructive.

I promise I’m going to be the one who helps you glue those cracks back together… and  I’m going to  see your perfect and celebrate it… because I get it now.  And pick this apart and look, but you won’t find me here…you’re just assuming.

Until next time,

DP Babbles


Be Patient

29 May


In December, I hit an all time low in confidence. It actually steadily declined from my birthday on.  I started January higher than my pre-marathon  weight.  I was lost but not just because of a number and the way I looked…but how I felt.  For someone who works out like mad…I was doing a piss poor job of showing myself what I’m capable of.  I had no confidence I could break any barrier.  It wouldn’t and couldn’t happen fast enough.  So after the first week-ish of January…I set a goal.  To do what I have such a problem doing with every facet of life…”Be Patient”.  So without even thinking about it, I chipped away at being patient.  I worked one meal at a time, one workout at a time, and yes…even one glass of wine at a time (with water in between like the good girl I am).  I acquired help along the way to help me breathe though each moment that it didn’t  happen all at once.  I didn’t beat the shit out of myself mentally for mistakes.   It’s May now…almost June, and I got rid of 18lbs.  I didn’t even realize it.  I’m a number counter so I realized it.  But I certainly didn’t realize that I’d made a dent.  I examined myself in the mirror and looked at the number and saw a difference.  All because I finally looked past instant gratification and just took my time.  Maybe it doesn’t seem like a bunch of weight, but for me, it was more progress than I’ve made in three years.  For once in a long time I am pounds away from my lowest recorded weight.  I know that because my GYN has complained about it the last two years.

Patience is a something that I have such difficulty with.  I know many people do.  But it comes up with me more so than not. Example:

I was pregnant between Rae and Jax.  I remember life not happening fast enough and lifting my king size bed to clean something because I was mad pissed.  That night I started bleeding.  It was a week before I knew for sure I had lost the baby.  A week…an excruciating time for someone waiting to know if their baby’s heart is beating.   Looking back, one of my best friends sent me two words…two words she often sends me.  “Be patient”   See, even she knows it’s a problem!  Even the time of trying for Jax was tormenting for me…when it should have been fun.  After every negative pregnancy test, the Universe was telling me “Be Patient” .

It has popped back up lately.  This is the lesson the Universe has for me.  It’s gonna teach me patience if it has to beat me with it.  I was super frustrated about life a couple weeks back,  And I got this message with that cute little kissy face emoji: “Be patient” (Thanks Rie)

I want to get things done and accomplish great things…NOW! Fuck patience.  At least that’s what I tell myself.

You see, we live in a world of “we gotta have it now.”  The truth is, the best things in life are cultivated with patience.   Connections take patience.   Love takes patience.  Friendships need patience.   Success requires patience.  The finest ingredient in the making of your greatest accomplishment…that’s right…patience. Shit, even baking requires patience.

So what are we supposed to do when we weren’t given that gift?  Breathe through every moment.  Even when it’s hard.  Listen to the Universe because I promise you it sends out messages.  There are reasons for everything.  And breathing through every tough moment, every moment when I can’t seem to catch my breath, seems to be teaching me what I need to know.  The lesson to let go and have patience has been my biggest struggle thus far but… if it’s meant for you, it’s yours….when your supposed to have it.  That’s my lesson.  That’s actually everyone’s lesson.  But I promise you, sometimes, life gives you a hint that you’re doing ok.   They are like little Tiffany boxes randomly found that are filled with a happy moment that will leave your heart full.  (or in my case since I’ve never really seen or received a Tiffany box of anything, a bite of creme brûlée without the calories! )  That’s what the gift of patience is like.

Listen, most of us aren’t going to win the lottery,  we aren’t going to marry Channing Tatum (if that’s your thing of course) and we aren’t going to ever achieve complete and total perfection.  But ya know…if we can just muddle through with a little bit of patience…life will give you a little reward.  Your own little Creme Brûlée… (I like dessert and wine…what can I say).

I wish you all of the best things in life…most of all…patience!



Until Next Time…

DP Babbles

Childlike Resilience…

8 May


The other day I was called down for a pediatric trauma.  There was a domestic altercation between two people. One spotted a pot of boiling of water on the stove and thought inflicting pain on the other would be a great idea. The problem with this? They threw it on a little girl who was innocently in the way.  Someone threw a hot pot of boiling water on a kid… let that sink in a second. We all stood there gowned, gloves, bonnets and masks with anguished faces. The cops and the paramedics looked destroyed. But this four year old lay there with her skin basically hanging off and blisters all over her face, bravely listening and following directions despite this horrid thing that had just happened to her.  A bit later I had given her morphine and was wrapping her burns when it occurred to me…she’s so brave and resilient. She sat up and almost helped me for a bit. Children are so damn resilient. She will heal and her body may carry scars but she’s going to be ok. Over and over again I see kids overcoming things that you couldn’t imagine…why can’t we be like that as adults? 

Why can’t it be easy to overcome the hurt that others inflict on us. Why do we carry that with us? Why are emotional wounds so hard to heal? Let go. Forget it. Choose happiness. There’s a million quotes like that. I’ve heard it’s easy… I have found that it’s not. 

Why do words hurt? When apologies are sincere and even when there aren’t any apologies. Why do the words stick so that they pop up at the most inconvenient times to make us doubt ourselves? 

Why do lack of words create a hole of uncertainty? What’s the stupid quote about that? No response is a response.  Shouldn’t we mean more than not being responded to? Or do you mean enough to someone that a response can’t even be given.  

Why do we second guess ourselves all the time. Why do we worry what people think of us? Is it because some have jumped the gun and assumed the negative in us already? Or do we really believe the shit other people shovel out?  

We’ve been conditioned our whole lives.  Those who hurt, seem to hurt others. Those who love, hurt themselves trying to love those who hurt.  There are people out there who see the positive in people, and they would move Heaven and Earth to make them believe it. There are others who will always believe the shittiest things about people around them. 

So what’s the point. I’m rambling on about a kid being burned and then going on about pain adults inflict on each other.  I think that if I could wish anything, I would want to wish childlike resiliency to anyone who is in pain. 

I’d wish happiness, true happiness to everyone who can’t seem to have it. 

I’d wish everyone who masks who they are and what truly makes them tick an opportunity to freely be themselves, even just for a moment.  To not have to tuck it all away. I’d wish them to feel comfortable in their most vulnerable times.  

I’d wish those who can’t give their words, the ability to speak with their heart.  I wish for meaning behind no responses.  I wish for a break in pain for everyone. 

I’d wish kind words for those filled with anger and harsh tones.  I’d wish amnesia on those who cower with the memory of angry words. 

I’d wish positivity to the negative. I’d wish clarity to the confused. I’d wish true unconditional love to the unloved. 

I’d wish childhood resilience on everyone. Alas, life is harsh. Reality can be bitter. And we have been raised into a society that doesn’t always see the forest for the trees. 

I want to change that.  I want to believe in myself. I want to believe in those I care about and those who care about me.  So I’m going to try and look forward with less bitterness, and more empathy.  I will try and see the world through the eyes of a child. I will try and see the good in me. Maybe if we all started within, the light would reflect out. 

I’m going to pray that little girl doesn’t grow up to be jaded and that she carries love in her heart. That although physical evidence of that fateful day remains forever, her heart will be full of love and she will change her little world. 

I’m going to pray that those I love, see the good in me and themselves. I will always see the good in them.  I will pray for words when there are none. And kindness instead of anger. 

I don’t want anyone’s perfection…just the real. And the real comes with the jaded, it comes with the anger… but sometimes just take a breath and look in my eyes and heart…I promise there’s going to be some light in there. I’m saving it for my peeps. I promise.  We all have darkness and light in us. When they play together properly…it’s the perfect piece of Heaven.  Never forget how was amazing those nooks and crannies are. We all have them, it’s just that not everyone can see them. That’s why I wish you childlike resilience. 

Until Next Time…

DP Babbles


29 Mar





I’ve been thinking of things that I wanted to write about for a while. And today, after reaching a small goal that I’ve been working on for what seems to be forever, it was suggested that maybe I have something to say.  Today I reached Wonderland…that was the goal.  It was actually a weight loss goal I made before I turned 40.  One that has eluded me and has seriously pissed me off.  But in this journey to my “Wonderland”, today I realized that I have been redefining what that means to me the whole time I have struggled to achieve it.  And as I stared down at my toes on the scale today (the ones that need a pedicure so badly), it wasn’t the number I was after, it was the feeling of accomplishment.

Ohhhhh, did you think I was talking about Alice…about a book?  The movies maybe? I mean, maybe a little since I seem to have some connection.  Today you can just call me Alice.  And I’m damn proud of it too.

When I tell you making the scale change and accomplishing my goal has eluded me, this has been some ridiculous internal fight for me since before running NY in 2016.  It has been a long cruel game I’ve played with myself.  All over a number. One stupid asshole of a number.  I have stared at myself in the mirror, I’ve stared at the numbers on the scale.  I have picked my imperfections apart, both physically and mentally.  Why  couldn’t I hit this fucking number.  And why was it so important?  I mean I run half marathons, I’ve run a marathon and I want to run more! Why was I not worthy of a stupid number? And why was I being a whiny bitch about it?

I wasn’t worthy of the number because it wasn’t about the number.  And the truth of it is, I don’t deserve to accomplish anything I’m not willing to make changes for.  After sitting down with someone over the past two months and going through my actual food and tweaking a few things,  it wasn’t so much about what I was eating, but how I was treating myself.

I was treating myself the way I sometimes allow others to treat me, like I’m not worthy.  Like I’m not worth it. And total truth…I was wrong.  I am worth making changes. I am worth making great choices. I am worth being treated like I matter.  I am worthy of attaining any damn goal I want.  And it shouldn’t be dictated by others.  I matter…let those words sink in for a second… I MATTER. Say them to yourself and and really feel it. It’s life changing. I matter….I really matter. You really matter.

See, being in ” Wonderland” means absolutely nothing if I don’t feel like a matter.  My nutritionist looked at me the other day.  She said ” You matter…you matter. You are more than a number.  You are not invisible.”  So of course I was a smart ass about it.  “I thought we were here to talk about food, for crying’ out loud!”   But food and emotion are so connected, especially in today’s world.  So she looked at me and repeated the same.  “YOU MATTER.  You are not invisible. You matter.”  I didn’t even realize it but maybe somewhere down deep, as tears ran down my cheeks silently, it touched a nerve.  It must have because today, I was blessed enough to see what Wonderland was. To feel it.  To be proud, and to know that I matter…and that my Wonderland is a big picture now, not a small goal, and definitely not a number.

It’s your big picture too…remember I’m not here alone.  And your Wonderland may not have anything to do with a number,  and that’s what’s so awesome about it.  Hey!!!! Alice!!!   It’s your journey, your fall down the rabbit hole…it’s YOUR Wonderland!

My Wonderland…is now my journey as a whole.  It’s my peace.  It’s the place I go in my mind to escape the ordinary and mundane.  It’s where I’m not invisible, or maybe I am if I choose to be.  It’s my feeling of home, inside my heart. The pieces that make up my heart..that make me smile and make me feel I can do anything. It’s whatever goal I set big or small, but it’s definitely not about a number.   And whatever it is to you, let it be…and be proud of it.  Why????

Because you matter.  And there’s not one part of your soul, mad or not, that isn’t special.  Never forget it…ever. And when you are in search of your “Wonderland” remember one thing…

Before Alice got to Wonderland, she had to fall.


Until Next Time,

DP Babbles