Slightly Disappointed In Myself

Monday, February 20, 2017

SLIGHTLY DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF

One week from today, I will step into the offices of my new employer.  I have been happily unemployed, officially, since January 13th (a Friday, no less).

When I left my former employer, the intention was to take the time to unwind from the personal challenges of the past several years.  I was bushed.  I needed the time to wash away the negative impression which my former employer left upon me, and I needed time to unburden myself from the various responsibilities I have had to shoulder for me and my children.  In other words, once I got my head straight I was quite happy to be really patient in my job search so that I could land a job that matched my ideals and desires.  Let me define "patient":  Having a few months of unemployment did not daunt me in the slightest.  I welcomed such a notion.

Well, little did I know that even before I tendered my resignation, I noticed a job opportunity, right here in my home town, for a position that I would be perfect for, and which would be perfect for me.

Before the dust had even settled from my resignation, then my resume was submitted and an interview was being requested!  No time was being wasted at all on either side.

The reason I submitted my resume for this particular posting was due to it fitting almost to a "T" what I was truly looking for in this next stage of my career.  For 25 years, I have lived and breathed the Adventure Tourism industry, specifically river rafting.  I stumbled into a job with a wilderness rafting expedition outfit back in 1992, once I had moved to Vancouver from Toronto.  From there, the man I then married (who I met at this particular outfit) started up his own river rafting outfit.  We operated our particular river adventures directly from our dining room and driveway.  

Even after our return from sailing, a stretch of eight years, I did everything I could to re-establish ourselves as successful river rats.  
Our family-owned and -operated business came to a close in 2014, however, when the family had changed its structure.  It is difficult to run a family business when the family is no more.

With having to pay rent, put food on the table, cover all teenage-related expenses (times 3), cover all other living expenses, pay for gas and insurance and everything else in our lives (and I mean everything except for post-secondary education expenses which I most certainly did not have the means to cover), I needed a job.  Any job.  Being selective was not an option.  I seriously was picturing myself as a cashier at any of the big box stores now located where I live.

That's when I became a Finance Officer at a car dealership here in town.  It proved successful in that it covered my bills and periodically allowed for extra income to cover splurges and treats/spoils for myself and the kids.

During the latter three months of 2016 though, I was becoming increasingly restless and dissatisfied with how I was earning my income.  Yes, I was earning a good income, but that was simply not enough reason for me to pull myself together and ignore my own conscience.  In other words, I was selling my soul working in the auto industry.

I wanted to be back in the Adventure Tourism industry.  I wanted to sell something that I truly believed in.  I wanted to sell from the heart again.

Every time I booked a river rafting trip, it was not because of any sales pitch that I presented to the unsuspecting individual at the other end of the telephone.  My sheer love and enthusiasm for our river adventures shone through immediately.  All I was simply doing was chatting about how great a day on the river can be.  No selling involved at all.  Simply sharing my love of the wilderness with others.  Simply selling "fun".

And it always worked!

(My former husband always told me that I could sell a rafting trip to someone who lived in the desert.)

I, once again, wanted to earn my income from a source that was compatible with my own beliefs, desires, passions and conscience.  If I had to forfeit some income in order to do this, then I could live with that.  No problem.  I did not want to sell my soul anymore for any job.

So, back to the employment opportunity that appeared online back in December.  I saw the posting before Christmas (along with a couple of other postings that I would have been perfect for), but did nothing about it.  Just took note of it.  Then all the brew-ha-ha bubbled up at my former employer, and I made the decision to walk away.  I was looking forward to taking a few months, perhaps, to focus on me:  Do some hiking, do some writing, maybe really start working on this book I keep talking about!

In early January, this employment opportunity was still listed on the website.

Hmmmmmm.  What to do?  What to do?

Here are the positives:

- it is in the Adventure Tourism industry
- it is here in town (a 5-minute commute from my front door)
- it is in the Adventure Tourism industry (did I mention that already?)
- it is a definite foot in the door for the Adventure Tourism industry

Here are the negatives:

- this may upend my unemployment freedom and all the wonderful notions of having a few months off just for myself

As mentioned before, I submitted my resume and was called in for an interview.  The long and the short of it:  I begin work next Monday!

I am back in the Adventure Tourism Industry, baby!

Yahoo!!!

In total, I will have been footloose and fancy-free for two months.  These two months have seen me do quite a bit.  In my own mind, however, I am quite hard on myself for not having accomplished so much more with my time.

Have you ever had that problem?

Yes, quite a bit of snowshoeing has taken place; I have cross-country skied a few times (both skate and classic); I have downhill skied twice with my kids; I drove to Kelowna to see my parents for a few days; I have luxuriated twice now (yes, twice!) at the Scandinave Spa in Whistler, and have a third visit coming up this weekend; I have taken myself out for walks/hikes/jogs on the various forest trails around the valley; I will be heading out of town later this week to see family friends whom I have not seen for 8 years (!); I have done some writing on my blog; I have finally sewed the new toss cushion covers for my living room pillows; and, and, and.

I'm pausing now as the sunset is just so gorgeous.  I'll return when it is dark and the grocery shopping is done!

I'm back.  The sun has set, the groceries are packed away, and I have a pot of green tea next to me on the couch (surrounded by my newly-covered toss cushions!).  

Back to my thoughts of not accomplishing enough during these past two months.  At the beginning of January, there was a long list of tasks/goals/projects for me to tend to with this new-found freedom.  Put the finishing touches on the bathroom; jazz up my bedroom;  learn how to use my camera; read books rather than play games on my iPad; work on my book; write on my blog every day; start a Facebook page for my blog; wander and explore and photograph and write about it; check out museums and galleries; bake bread regularly; go the gym every day and work on my fitness; lose weight; and on and on and on.

Interspersed with my regular bursts of outdoor activity, especially during the past couple of weeks, I have spent a significant amount of down-time on my couch.  By the time I returned home from visiting my parents, I was exhausted.  I had left my job, broke up with the guy I was seeing, began negotiations for a new job, and felt completely wiped emotionally and physically.  I finally realized that I was simply exhausted from the build-up of responsibilities over the past several years.  

I had left my husband and within six weeks my new life was fairly well established in its new routine.  Add to that the emotional healing processes that randomly burst to the surface with the ending of 20+year relationship, emotions that no longer want to be ignored.  I know that I am not the only single mother out there.  And I also fully acknowledge that, as a single mother, I have actually had a fairly easy time of it.  Yes, I have been incredibly fortunate with establishing a new life for myself and my children.  Incredibly fortunate, indeed.  But emotions still have to be tended to, no matter how smoothly the new life is ticking along.  And with emotional healing, comes vulnerability, self-examination, cries, anger and exhaustion.  Add to that a year-and-a-half of split weekends (Sundays and Tuesdays off).  No wonder I was happy to be unemployed!

The point is that now that I had time to unwind my emotions, unwind my responsibilities, and unwind my mind, I found that I was completely zapped of energy.  On the weekends I was out there with girlfriends, but for quite a few mid-week days I did not leave my apartment.  I had no desire to get out and do stuff.  You know how you can sometimes feel on Boxing Day, after all the hub-bub of Christmas?  Well, that's a good way to describe how I have felt recently.  Totally wiped out.

I have already done a lot of emotional healing.  I have worked through many topics by myself, with various girlfriends, and with a therapist.  The grief and the anger and the forward progression have all been realized.  

I suppose, that with the opportunity to totally relax and not have to force myself to maintain a level of daily life that was pretty much dictated by others around me, I could easily lull myself into a state of blah-ness and weariness.  I liked not having to use my brain to process thoughts; I liked not having any thoughts at all!

For precisely those reasons, my productivity level has been less than expected.  In these last few days of unemployed bliss, I find myself shaking my head at my lack of production.  All that talk, with no obvious accomplishment.

The biggest project of all was to begin seriously working on a manuscript for my book, or rather, my memoir.  I have been talking about this now for more than two years.  That, to date, is all that it has been:  Talk.  A few months ago I decided to take the pressure off myself and simply not put any expectations on myself.  I was going to step, temporarily, away from the writing table.  I would let the natural inclination to write present itself.  I subsequently discovered that I did enjoy writing in blog form.  Thinking of chapters and contents and overall direction for a book was daunting.  Whereas a blog has me typing away on my laptop about whatever topic is churning around in my mind at that particular moment.  It is a completely fluid process that has a definite beginning, middle and end.  Simply click the "publish" button and my work is done.

I like that approach to writing.

I am actually hoping that with writing individual posts more frequently, the memoir will begin to take shape naturally on its own.  That I can weave together the various thought-specific ramblings into a coherent, and likeable, draft.

Then there is photography.  A new-found hobby is walking around with the digital equivalent of a 35mm-camera.  As with writing, I enjoy it immensely when the mood strikes.  When out on a trail with friends, I will utilize my iPhone for photographs.  The true passion for photography comes when I am wandering these trails by myself.  I can then intently focus on different angles, subjects, and move at my own pace.  Nothing could be more infuriating for hiking friends than to be constantly waylaid by someone stopping every few feet to take a picture (I annoy my friends enough as it is with the iPhone!).  I picked up a book for photographic beginners back in the summer.  I've looked at it once.  With my time off I was hoping to delve into the topic and really learn how to use my camera.  That has not happened.  

Right now I have a little voice in my head chanting:  Revel in the accomplishments of what you HAVE done, rather than feel bad about what you have NOT done.

That is a good Life Lesson.

It is the equivalent of do not waste time on regret.

So what if I have not done everything I set out to do?

Look at what I have done in the past two months!

And if it were not for stumbling online into this latest career opportunity, I would still have all of this wonderful time on my hands in which to accomplish more.  Not a bad trade off.

Although I will soon be back in an office five days a week, and sitting at a desk, it will have a much more positive focus than what existed at my previous employer.

This is my unbelievable chance to step back into an industry where my heart belongs.  And who knows where it will take me?

Most decisions in life involve some level of compromise.

I am willing to forego more time to myself in order to pursue an opportunity that will (hopefully) make me happier, more content, more fulfilled, and potentially expose me to an entirely new realm of people and places.  

That is a compromise worth making.

I will no longer feel "bad" about what I have not done.  

I will feel "great" about all that I have accomplished and experienced.

So should you.

Feeling Kinda Blue

Saturday, February 18, 2017

FEELING KINDA BLUE

While out for a run this afternoon, along the trails by the river and golf course, I felt this big lump inside.  I felt a good cry coming on.

But, why?

Why was I feeling that way?

What was making me want to cry?

Ever since leaving my husband back in the summer of 2014, I swiftly moved into the mode of "figure out why you feel the way you do, at the very moment that you feel it.  Figure it out, then move on."  

Or, as Madonna sings:  Express yourself, don't repress yourself.

Discovering exactly why I have reacted to something, or someone, has been a high priority for me.  For years I had to exist in a state where I could not acknowledge what I was feeling.  My emotions were locked down and were not allowed the opportunity to express themselves.  And, I most definitely mean "not allowed".

With my freedom from marriage came this 180-degree turn where I said exactly what was on my mind.  Not in any mean way at all, simply in the most communicative manner possible.  I now was able to express myself, and I was thoroughly enjoying it!

So during today's run, I stopped in the middle of the trail, looked up into the trees and asked, both myself and the forest, Why Am I Feeling This Way?

(I love talking out loud to the forest during my hikes/walks/runs.  I can express all sorts of emotions amongst the trees because, as I tell my girlfriends, the forest can take it.  The mountains can also take it.  I have been known to yell out from an alpine meadow or trail, purging myself of pent up emotions!  You should try it sometime.)

From my recent writings, I have been thinking quite a bit about the two men who have played significant parts in my life:  My former husband and the man with whom I hung out during the past six months.

With my former husband, I now can unhesitatingly state that I did love him.  And as we will always share the bond of mother and father to our three children, each of us will no doubt be reminded of that love during those moments jointly spent with our children.  

With my former boyfriend, I can also state that I was quite fond of him.  There did exist some common ground and some common interests.  Yes, there were differences, but there were comfortable commonalities as well.  We did have some great times together.

My emotional jolt today was based on the doubt of "have I already experienced all the love that I will experience in my life?".  Will I experience love again?

That was it.  

This sounds kind of corny, but I have been enjoying listening to Frank Sinatra lately.  My gosh, what a voice!

His music provokes a sort of primitive response in me.  I love this kind of music as it makes me feel so lively and happy.  It fills me with this incredible sense of joie de vivre and giddiness.  I want to meet a man who feels this too.  Yes, with both men it was always evident that I loved music and dancing and singing.  Both men knew this of me.  Both men fully appreciated this in me.

But I go back to the basic reason why I broke up with Man #2:  I was not completely swept off my feet.

Frank Sinatra's music sweeps me off my feet.  I want a man who also loves this kind of music and who will literally sweep me off my feet while it is playing.  

Ah ha ... here we go.  Eureka.

With both men, it was each of their preferences typically that set the pace.  The places, activities, outings that I really enjoyed were typically not a number one priority.  There was a bit of a bias towards the man's preferences.  Case in point:  My birthday.  Over the years I learned not to expect anything for my birthday.  Typically the day involved doing something that was not based on my desires.  I always hoped that for one day out of the year, my own likes and preferences would be acknowledged and respected.  In the end, I stopped anticipating, and stopped setting myself up for disappointment.   I let it all go to avoid getting upset.

I want to find a man who challenges me, but also values some of the same quirky things in life that I value.  Someone who likes hiking in the alpine and luxuriating at the top, someone who likes jazz, someone who will scoop me up in his arms and slow dance me around the kitchen, someone who will walk in the forest with me and not make me feel as if he is just filling time.  

I know that at this stage of life we all have firmly developed our own likes and dislikes, our favourites and not-so-favourites, our own idiosyncrasies.   And finding a compatible personality will require compromise to a certain degree.  Yet, there are some relationship/personality elements on which I do not wish to compromise.

I want to be scooped up in a man's arms and totally encased in his strength and comfort.  I want a man who is capable of wrapping himself totally around me.  For me, this physical attribute is extremely important.  I want to feel safe and secure and sheltered in a man's arms.  I do.

I want him to have a similar desire to travel to the places where I wish to travel.  I'm a Renaissance Woman who wants to immerse herself in the Italian and Spanish and French cultures.  I want to see Art in Florence.  I want to walk the same hills that Da Vinci walked.  I want to sit outside an Italian Cafe and sip wine and eat bread and cheese while watching the world walk by.  I want to saunter down flower-covered laneways and stumble upon photographic gems that my camera will love.  I want to sit in a small, dark bar or restaurant and listen to amazing Jazz musicians.  I want to sleep in alpine meadows and listen to wolves howling.

I want to feel excited to be out in public doing these marvellous things with a marvellous man.  Because if he can do this for me, then, oh my gosh, just wait to see how I will be with him.  That kind of personality will completely open this woman up and my effervescent and sparkling personality will not be kept contained.  I want a common free-for-all of excitement and appreciation and in-depth respect for what each of us adores in life.

I want to be adored AND I want to be adoring.  Sincere adoring on both sides.  Each of us wanting to sincerely please the other one.  None of this fake adoring that just makes you go "ew".   Genuine adoration on a two-way street.  

If there is a man out there who can make me feel this way, then watch out!  There will be no stopping us.

So that's what made me cry today:  The thought that I may not ever have this in my life.  

I know, it sounds rather pessimistic; rather too reliant on a male to fulfill myself; rather too self-indulging on the romance.  I know.

But it's what I feel at this particular moment in time.

It will not stop me from doing anything that I want to do.  Certainly not.  But there is the hope that, perhaps, I might be able to do these things with a man at my side who will share the same gratification and pleasure.

That's all.

Now it is time to head over to a girlfriend's place and work on some home decorating projects with her sewing machine!

Happy Saturday, everyone.

I am feeling less blue.

Thank you.

What My Children Mean To Me

Friday, February 17, 2017

WHAT MY CHILDREN MEAN TO ME

I am a mother.

I have three children.

They are, actually, young adults.  My oldest son is 20 years old, my younger son and daughter are each 18 years old. 

My three children are my pride and joy.

My three children are who I turn to for grounding, solace and comfort.

My three children are everything to me. 

Everything.

I do not know if any, some, or all of my children are aware of this but, at various times over the years, they have truly been my lifeline.  When times were tough, and situations hard to bear, it was my children who got me through it.  They most likely were not aware of just what they provided for me.   Most likely they were not aware of the sheer impact they had on my survival.  

The mantra that would run through my head during more delicate scenarios was "just let me get back to my children; just let me get back to my children; just let me get back to my children".  Once I was back with my children, then the world would (eventually) stabilize again.  In one-on-one circumstances (either at home or away from home), I would be the focus of another person's displeasure.  Once back in the presence of my children, the family dynamic would kick in and the focus would no longer be on me.  I was always in a more tentative position without the children.  With the children, I was most definitely safer.

Countless times I turned to my children, unbeknownst to them, to be a link to sanity; a link to love and comfort; a link to how the world should really be.

When they were younger, I would automatically kick into "mummy mode", put a smile on my face, prepare dinner and pretend that everything was peachy keen.  As they got older, and they themselves became more aware of the dynamic unfolding within our family, I could not only talk to them, but break down in tears in their company.  That is how much my children mean to me.

When, as a parent, you feel completely and utterly raw emotionally, and you know that the last thing you should be doing is crying in front of your children.  But when your children are so interwoven into your core being it would be shameful not to cry in their presence. 

More than once, my children have witnessed my tears. 

More than once, my children have listened to me pour out my emotions.

More than once, my children have listened to my confession:  I do not know how much longer I can live with your father.

And every single time that I melted down, my three children were there for me.

Every.  Single.  Time.

My existence, my sanity, my laughter, my depth of love is because of my three children.

About a year ago, while walking through the forest and talking out loud to myself, I was struck with the realization that the reason that I put up with, endured, and ultimately, survived everything that I was subjected to was all for the sake of my children. 

Let me clarify:  My children are not the reason why I had to endure my husband's behaviour.  My children are the reason why I survived my husband's behaviour.  There is a vast difference. 

My children were, and still are, the three shining lights that illuminate the dark night. 

My children were, and still are, the sun that shines through the darkest of storms.

My children were, and most definitely still are, the three undeniably phenomenal reasons why I get the absolute BEST of each and every day.

When I need a good laugh, I turn to my children.

When I am feeling wobbly, I turn to my children.

When I am feeling frazzled, I turn to my children.

When I need a good cry, I turn to my children.

They are quite used to getting random texts from their mother declaring how much I love them.  The normal response now is "you ok?"!

My three children know me very, very well.

I feel incredibly lucky to be their mother.

I not only have their backs, but they most definitely have mine.

There is such amazing comfort in that.

So what if I don't have a man in my life.

I have so much more.

I have a flotilla of girlfriends (Thank You, Ladies!).

I have three amazing children.

Life Is Grand.

That Is What My Children Mean To Me.

Happy Birthday To My Ex-Husband

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Happy Birthday To My Ex-Husband

Yes, I have an "ex".  Actually, I have two "ex's".  Actually, I prefer the term "former" to "ex", it seems more polite and tactful.  

I have a former boyfriend and I have a former husband.

In one week's time, I will have been divorced for one year.  February 22, 2016 brought about the closing of my 21+ year marriage.  Although I initiated the separation and divorce, it was neither an easy decision to make, nor an easy process to live through.  Both are truly a combination of grief and relief.

A couple of weeks ago, I added a former boyfriend to the list.  We had been seeing each other for six months, and we did spend a great deal of time together exploring our local mountains and sharing lots of laughter.  Ultimately though, I simply had to admit to myself that, even with his wonderful understanding, generosity and sheer desire to grow old with me, I was unable to fully reciprocate his feelings.  Rather than try to fool both of us, and ignore the fact that our emotional commitment was not equal on both sides, I ended the relationship.  Once again, I pulled the rug out from under another human being's feet, another human being with whom I was sharing time.  

Both men were taken by surprise.  Both men had no idea what my thought process was leading up to those individual final days.  Both men have been emotionally scarred by my actions.  

For that, I am truly sorry.

What I have learned from this most recent relationship, however, is that in order for me to be true to me, I had to make the decisions that ultimately hurt each of these men.  And even though there were personality similarities between them (both are great outdoorsmen; competent and confident in their actions; athletic), similarities that were definitely positive traits, I simply was not completely swept off my feet.  And that, for myself, was worth recognizing.

I argued with myself before breaking it off last month.  I questioned whether at my age (51!), I would ever find another man who was so openly willing to share his life with me.  Would I ever find another man who so openly adored me?  Would I ever find another man who was fully capable and willing to show me the mountains?  Would I ever find another man who was so financially secure to carry me into the future?

A long telephone conversation with a girlfriend quickly erased these nagging doubts.  Her mother, at the ripe age of 80 (yes, eighty!), fell head over heels in love, and in my girlfriend's words "acted like a giddy schoolgirl".  So there you have it, one is never too old to fall in love.

I am holding out for love.

I want to melt in a man's arms.  

As I was not melting in the arms of this latest romance, and even though I may not melt again in my lifetime, I had to be true to myself in the end.  I could not pretend that I felt more than what I actually felt.  That would not have been fair to either one of us.

So I am single once again, upon my own initiative.

I am okay with that.  

This most recent relationship has made me feel good about myself again in a different way.  It affirmed to me that I can still be attractive to the opposite sex (even though I am still trying to drop 5 - 10 pounds!), and that a member of the opposite sex finds me intriguing.  After being married for more than 20 years, you begin to wonder if you have what it takes to be interesting to someone else!  I now have proof that yes, I have intriguing qualities.

What I have also been made aware of is the undeniable good elements of both relationships.  Perhaps it was a recent trip to see my parents that has helped move me up onto a higher level of existence.  Looking through photographs that depicted the various generations of our family, I came upon images of my former husband in different scenarios with my family.  One image had us both lying about on the rec room floor at my parents' house when I brought my new love back east to meet everyone.  Seeing in the photograph the ease between us, the comfortableness between us, the undeniable connection that was between us, made me feel really good about what we had.

We did have one heck of a story; one heck of a life together.  After almost three years of emotional turmoil, I can fondly admit that I did marry one heck of a man!

Even though I suffered many dark hours during our marriage, I cannot dispute the simple fact that we did share a very deep love for each other.  I can admit that now.  I see it in the photographs.  I see it in how we look at each other.  I see it in our smiles.  

So, Happy Birthday sweetie.  

You did offer me incredibly phenomenal life adventures over the years.

You did offer me incredibly phenomenal opportunities to grow as a human.

You did offer me the incredibly phenomenal opportunity to become an Amazon!

You did offer me the incredibly phenomenal opportunity to become a mother.

I know that I also offered you incredibly phenomenal opportunities.  Many friends have reinforced that notion over the past couple of years.  

We both shared a wonderful life together.

I can say that now, and mean it.

It actually brings tears to my eyes.  I have not cried over you in quite a while.  

At present, even though I am man-less (and feeling ever-so-slightly empty), and I am indulging myself with being back at home full-time again (no more sleepovers at "his" place!), and I am indulging myself with my girlfriends again (finally!), I am starting to feel the fire being stoked up inside me once again.  That made-of-steel woman who will stand up for herself, who will boldly walk into every day, who will not compromise on what makes her happy, who recognizes what makes her happy.  The fire was doused for a while there, but it is coming back.  

I still like men.  I do!

But no one man is the reason for my existence.  

The men who have been in my life have brought me great joy.  There is no need to harp on the negatives.  

Those joys have helped shape me into the woman I am today.  It sounds rather cliche, but we learn and love from every one we interact with.  I have learned from the challenges too, but that is not what I wish to write about today.

I have learned greatly from the men in my life (two in the past 25 years!).

I have been loved greatly by the men in my life.  

I have loved greatly, too.

Happy Birthday to the man I married.

Happy Birthday to the man with whom I shared so much life.

Stand Tall, Shoulders Back, Head Held High

Thursday February 2, 2017

STAND TALL, SHOULDERS BACK, HEAD HELD HIGH


Over the past several months, I have been challenged greatly on the ethical front.  Both my personal and professional ethics were being compromised on a growing scale.  Like all matters that begin small and are seemingly insignificant, it is the growth of these matters for which one must truly be on guard.  What seems trivial one day, can be a complete moral and ethical battleground weeks down the road.  

The term "moral compass" has been viewed recently in the media.  

I can relate completely to this term.

It cannot be understated how critical it is for individuals to not be bullied, coerced, manipulated, nor subjected to the behaviour of others intent on fulfilling their own greedy and selfish desires.  Bullying exists within all generations, and within all cultures.  It takes many forms and has many impacts on the victims.  

I am not immune to the affects of bullying.  I have been subjected to it at various levels and in varying degrees, both personally and professionally.   In both scenarios, I found the strength to walk away from it.  Neither instance was easy.  Neither instance allowed for peaceful slumber.  Neither instance was free of grief, frustration, nor anger.  

What I have discovered though, is that the first time you have admitted to yourself that something is amiss, that you can no longer accept the status quo, that in order to sleep peacefully at night you must stand up for yourself, you then discover that it is so much easier to do it the second time around!

Strength breeds strength.

Strength builds upon itself.  

Strength nurtures itself.

And once you have had a taste of strength, believe me, there is no going backwards.  It is full steam ahead;  you will no longer let anything, or anyone, stand in your way.

Short but sweet.