Gone Girlfriend

Gone Girlfriend

Here’s my latest essay, originally published by my new favorite online publication, P.S. I Love You. Their tagline is, ‘Writing from the heart. Stories about life, loss and love in the digital age.’ So I think it’s a good fit. Click on over and give me a “clap,” would ya? The more claps, the more readers, the more readers, the less lonely people in the world. That’s how I see it playing out anyway.

I read a lot of books written by women for other women. Also, a lot of female authored blogs, articles, posts, social media shout-outs and shoe descriptions on Zappos. I’ve noticed a lot of ladies I admire and respect like to write a lot about girlfriends. Specifically, how phenomenal theirs are. Like, really and truly PHENOMENAL. And something isn’t sitting right with me.

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On Being Gifted And Finding Your Passion (Subtitled: I’ll Be Surprised If You Even Read This)

On Being Gifted And Finding Your Passion (Subtitled: I’ll Be Surprised If You Even Read This)

I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m gifted. Incredibly gifted in fact, with more than one thing even. I am a dancer and a writer and I am amazingly gifted with both abilities. On the off chance you’re still reading and not gagging on my arrogance I hope you’re reading me correctly. Just to be sure, please make special note that I am not saying I am gifted AT dancing or writing, but WITH them. This is a huge distinction and one I think adds huge value to the conversation.

During a couples counseling session with my husband about a year ago, our counselor looked at me and asked, “Jodie, what do you do for yourself that brings you joy?” I stared back at her blankly and started to feel hot and itchy. I could not answer the question. My husband and I were at a rock bottom place in our marriage. We were just beginning to attempt to recover from his newly revealed infidelity and at that point my days were filled with despair, anger, anxiety, grief, a sense of loss, uncertainty, insomnia, the inability to catch my breath (quite literally), shame, regret and I’ll just stop myself here because I could list every negative and unwanted emotion under the sun and be acutely accurate in my description of what those early days of recovery were like. So when she asked me what I did to summon joy, I had nothing, nada, zip, zilch, zero to come back to her with.

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An Introduction

An Introduction

It’s suggested to new bloggers that your first post tell readers why you are here and what they can expect to find in your blog. Makes good sense to me. So here goes. I am here because Glennon told me to do it. It wasn’t me. It was her. She did it.

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