A Day in the Mind of Courtney

  The kids have been away, Visiting family in North Carolina. They are having the time of their LIVES,  And being absolutely spoiled rotten.  The house is quiet; too quiet tbh. No random bursts of laughter, No little feet pounding through the halls, No surprise hugs or sudden, “I love you, Mommy’s.” My bed is clean for once. No crumbs. No fruit snack wrappers. And somehow, I miss that. This quiet has given me space to breathe, To think, To reflect on all the noise I usually beg for a break from. Funny how I crave a moment of silence, And when I finally get it, It echoes, it’s lonely, it’s….. too quiet. I’ve had time to sit with my thoughts, To remember what I love, What I need, Who I am when I’m not pouring myself Into being “Mommy.” But the truth is Even in this moment, Even in this break My heart isn’t here, it’s in NC.  It’s wherever they are. Sticky fingers, loud giggles, Big emotions and endless questions. I miss them in the most silly ways Cleaning up messes, t...

They’ve called me a lot of things over the years. Too sensitive. Too emotional. Too intense. Too dramatic. Too quiet. Too loud. Too weird. Too much. And for the longest time, I believed them. I believed that I felt wrong. That my thoughts were too big, my words too heavy, my reactions too strong. I learned how to hold it in. I learned how to smile when I wanted to scream. I learned how to shrink myself just enough to fit into their comfort zones. But lately, I’ve been wondering…..  what if I’m not too much? What if they’ve just never made room for someone like me? The world is built for noise,  but not honesty. It praises boldness,  but only the kind that fits neatly into a box. It says, “Be yourself,”  but only if that self isn’t inconvenient. I’ve spent so much time apologizing for the way I exist  for stimming, for crying for inanimate objects, for needing time alone, for not wanting to hug people I barely know, for taking things “too personally”  as if ...

Calvin has one of the most beautiful hearts I’ve ever known. He loves with his whole soul. Not halfway. Not when it’s convenient. Always. He’s passionate in a rare kind of way. When he’s interested in something, he pours himself into it. It’s never just a hobby or a passing phase. It becomes a part of him. And he talks about it with so much excitement that you can’t help but care, too. He stares at the moon like he’ll never see it again, and I love that about him. He finds beauty in the things most people overlook.  He sniffs his ramen packets, and tilts his head back like he’s never smelt anything so delightful. I never understood it, but I wouldn’t want him any other way. To see him appreciate such a strange, simple thing, makes my heart happy. That same passion spills into the way he loves people. The way he loves me. The way he loves our kids. You can feel it in the small things, the way he shows up every day, the way he remembers the little things, the way he always makes spac...

  I’M OVERCOMING MY AGORAPHOBIA.   Yes, me. 🙋‍♀️ That sentence feels unreal to type. For so long, it felt like the world was too much. Too loud, too unpredictable, too overwhelming. I stayed in, not because I didn’t want to live, but because I was scared of how to live out there. Scared of panicking in public. Scared of not being able to escape. Scared of being seen. Scared to be ME. Scared to disappoint. Scared to step on toes. Scared to be rejected. But something’s changing. I’m breathing again. Not just shallow, survive-the-moment kind of breathing. I mean really breathing. The deep, full, I-AM-OKAY kind. The kind that fills my lungs with air and my heart with hope. I’m smiling again. And not just pretending to, either. Real smiles. Ones that don’t feel heavy or forced or fake. Smiles that come from laughing too hard, or finding joy in small things like hugs from my children, or a song I forgot I loved.  I’m DANCING again. ALL THE TIME. And I’m not sorry. Dancing has ...