The Hardest Part About The Transition to Two Kids

There were many difficult things about the first year with two children. There was the adjustment of trying to split our attention to meet the needs of both kids. There was the challenge of trying to get sufficient rest when they’d take turns being awake during the day and then take turns waking us up at night. There was the strain on our marriage and trying to stay connected when each of us barely coped with our own responsibilities. There was the seemingly futile fight against germs as colds got passed around and around in the winter months. But as I thought about it, I realized that the hardest part of the transition for me wasn’t something external. It was asking for and accepting help.
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dare to be dangerous

Daring to be Dangerous

“Are you a dangerous woman? PROVE IT.” Such were the opening words for the invitation to the SheLoves Magazine event I received. My first thoughts: “I’m NOT a dangerous woman. And who are you to ask me to prove it?!”

And yet, I RSVP’d “Yes,” bought my ticket and marked it in my calendar.

I went because I wanted to meet these women in person. I’d wanted to meet them for the last year and a half. These were the women who had agreed to publish my amateur writing on their incredible online magazine. These were the women whose writing, lives and hearts inspired me in my journey. These were the women who I’d become online friends with through likes, shares, comments and private messages.
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courage-is-admitting-when-youre-your-own-worst-enemy

Courage is: Admitting When You’re Your Own Worst Enemy

[“Courage Is” is a guest post series of readers sharing their personal stories of courage and what it means to live courageously. This is Laura W.‘s story.]

I’ve struggled with body image issues and being significantly overweight since about grade 4. When classmates started to notice (and care) that I was heavy, I started to get made fun of for it. Kids can be mean. They said things no one should have to hear, and even wrote things on bathroom walls for me to find during breaks between high school classes.
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Will I Stay Single Forever? (A Story)

In July 2006, I was thoroughly struggling with being single. I had no clue at that time that by November of that year, I would be dating Tim. I only knew that at the age of 25, I deeply desired to be married and seemingly had no prospects on the horizon. I took a personal retreat that summer and one afternoon I had this vision. I wrote it in my journal and it carried me forward into the days ahead. I want to share it with our readers today.Read More

An Honest Letter to my Post-baby Body

Dear post-baby body,

To everyone else in the world, you probably look pretty much the same as you did three years ago, before pregnancy and childbirth ran their course. But you’ve changed. We both know it. I didn’t mind the changes so much during the first year of motherhood when breastfeeding melted off the pounds and moved me up a bra size, but now that the baby is weaned and things are back to “normal,” it’s quite a different story.

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Facing The Disappointment That Was Our Book Launch

How do you face disappointment? When a relationship falls apart, or a friend lets you down, or something you were looking forward to (like getting pregnant or clinching the next promotion) doesn’t happen, how do you respond? I don’t handle it very well. My instinct is to run from the pain, to numb myself with distractions and to avoid that awful feeling at all cost. It’s too uncomfortable, unpleasant and painful for my liking. So I scroll through my Facebook feed for the tenth time in four minutes. I lose myself in a certain online game of matching coloured candies. I text my friends to see if anyone’s around to chat. I search for something, anything, to soothe the aching hole in my soul where my dream used to be. Then I come to my senses and I sit down to blog.
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Why Aren't You Married Yet?

Courage Is: Answering “Why Aren’t You Married Yet?”

[“Courage Is” is a guest post series of readers sharing their personal stories of courage and what it means to live courageously. This our friend ProdigalJ’s story.]

Weddings are something I love and dread. I love them, because I get to celebrate my close friends. They are so meaningful for me that for a special few, I’ve even cried (manly) tears during the ceremony. However, when the parties are over and we’re done celebrating ‘togetherness,’ it’s hard to not feel like I need to be with someone in order to be “whole.” As if being single isn’t enough, and that somehow I’m incomplete.
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