Lately I’ve been noticing that little voice coming back. If I get a haircut and it doesn’t turn out right I can’t shake the idea that “I don’t look feminine enough anymore”, or I’ll put my goals and dreams on the back burner in favour of catching up with everyone I can because I hear that little voice telling me that “good friends never say no”.

I’ve always tried to choose which kinds of thoughts I pay attention to. In my experience if you feed the good ones and ignore the bad ones, you can be in for a quality of life shift but lately my ability to ignore the bad ones and focus on the good has been slipping.

So I’m making a change.

This week I’m starting a big effort to be extra positive and stop buying into what that little voice has to say. If I’m awkward at times, I want to love that part of me as much as I love the witty and cute parts. If things are hard, why do I think it’s more valid to beat myself up than it is to be encouraging? I need to be my biggest cheerleader, because if I won’t get behind me, who will?

Sometimes I wonder what our lives would look like if we changed the stories we tell ourselves about who we are.

Are there any stories you tell yourself  that aren’t helping you be who you want to be?

ps – The lovely Amy from Just a Titch interviewed me today about leaving the entertainment industry last year, being confident & how to start over, you can find it here!

]]> http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/07/more-love/feed/ 50 http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/07/freckled-nes/ http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/07/freckled-nes/#comments Thu, 15 Jul 2010 09:00:04 +0000 Kyla Roma http://www.kylaroma.com/?p=4467 So, I’ve been keeping an amazing secret and I can finally tell you! It’s so good I even vlogged it because the written word can’t communicate my excitement….only using the word “excited” 15 times in a vlog can!

I vlog when big things happen, it’s a fact :)

ps – I filmed this when I was running on very little sleep, we had a crazy thunderstorm the night before and I was up all night! But that’s probably for the best, sleepy Kyla = more subdued Kyla and I would have been off the richter scale otherwise!

For those of you who can’t watch right away, my news is that one of my favourite people – Leigh-Ann has asked me to join her incredible company, Freckled Nest! She’s an amazing independent artist and was looking to expand her team, and through this crazy blogging world she found me, liked what I’m doing here and asked me to join her. :)

I’m doing Blogger, Typepad and Wordpress blog makeovers and websites and my first project just launched…

[Visit Hillary's Blog]

This has been just a dream come true. Leigh-Ann is so talented, savvy and positive and I’m loving working with incredible clients and learning from day to night. If you’ve never stopped by  Leigh-Ann’s blog I would really recommend you do, she’s just wonderful.

[Visit LA]

So that’s my big news: I’m working as a designer with one of my favourite people on the planet and it’s all because of blogging!

If you’re interested in a blog makeover or a blog as a website please visit our portfolio and you can e-mail LA at FreckledNest@gmail.com or me at kylaroma@gmail.com to receive package and designer information.

Oh and one more thing: YAY! :)

]]> http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/07/freckled-nes/feed/ 81 http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/06/a-new-tattoo/ http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/06/a-new-tattoo/#comments Mon, 07 Jun 2010 10:00:37 +0000 Kyla Roma http://www.kylaroma.com/?p=4046 The big day has come and gone and…. I have my outline!

{Tattoo by Rich at Kapala Tattoo}

The decision to get this tattoo took me a long time to come to. My last tattoo experience was hard. My koi fish was done on the part of my back where my chronic back pain comes from, and at the time I wasn’t doing much to keep it under control. About twenty minutes into the colour, I lost it- the pain went off the richter scale and the muscles in my back started spasming. I ended up having to leave, let it heal, and did two months of physio and massage and yoga to get the pain into a place where it was manageable. I went back and sat through the colour, but for a long time the sound of the tattoo machines made me feel like I was suddenly seasick. I knew that my shoulder pice was something I wanted, I wasn’t sure that my body could handle it.

And of course, my questions didn’t end there. While I loved the idea of having a big visible tattoo in theory, I wasn’t sure how I the old parts of me would mesh with this new part. I see other women with visible tattoos all the time and I adore them. Their art suits them perfectly and they’re these amazing, larger than life indie sirens to me… but until I saw the finished stencil, I wasn’t sure that I could be that kind of girl. What if I got it and it didn’t suit me? What then? My imagination was caught up in a tug of war between what I wanted and imagined worst case scenarios right up until the appointment.

While part of me wanted some kind of a litmus test so I would know that this was the right thing, I knew that all I could do was dive into the experience and see what happened. I was incredibly excited to see it, but prepared to pull the plug if I didn’t like the art… and then if I did love it I was just going to pray my shoulder didn’t feel like my back did last time around. And if it did I wouldn’t make myself be brave, I would just sit still and wait for it to be finished. So at least I had a plan!

When I pulled up to the shop, I still felt shaky (because I’m me) but I took a deep breath, got out of the car, and went in.

I met my artist, who was warm and quick to laugh, put Serenity into the DVD player… and the shop broke into a faux opera rendition of the firefly theme song. When I could stop laughing we did the first part of a flower and I knew that I would be fine. The art was beautiful, the pain felt normal, and I was clearly with my people.

On the other side of it, I didn’t need to be so concerned! I’m in love with it and the experience was fabulous. I’m actually excited to have the colour done, and for someone who’s not made of tough stuff that says a lot. And indie siren or not, I think it suits me perfectly. It’s healing beautifully and the colour will be finished at the end of June. I love how big it is, and that it’s a partial sleeve. I love that it’s old fashioned and feminine, and I love how it peeks out from my shirts and dresses. I’m enamoured.

My cherry blossoms are a reminder of the west coast, of how short our time here together is and how beautiful it is while it lasts. And it’s a reminder that no matter what is happening now, the whole world can change by spring. I feel like its always been a part of me, I’ve just been waiting to meet it.

You can see close ups here & here, and if you have any questions please leave them in the comments, I’d love to answer them.

I don’t know when it happened, but something changed in me this year. Over the winter, in the thick of school and worry (and probably mid-cup of tea) it hit me: if not now, when? It sounds corny, but after a year of plans falling through, it was like being hit by lightening- I have to stop planning and start doing. I have to find the energy inside myself to stay positive and charged up, all the time, and I have to do it like my whole life is at stake.

It sounds dramatic, right? But this is my reasoning: if all we have is what’s happening right now? Then in every decision, my whole life is at stake. And in that case, I want to be paying attention and going to bed tired because I’ve given everything I can. I want to make this life joyful and creative, and I want it to count. I have to start now - if not now, when?

So after a lot of thinking this is my birthday list. It’s big, it’s beautiful, and it’s all mine.

This year I will…

Start a real, official business and open up shop on etsy. I’ve filed all the government paperwork for this, but it won’t feel real to me until I see the cheques with my company name on them (which I’m so excited for!). I’ve been dreaming of different product lines all spring, I’m in the final stages of logo design with an amazing illustrator and this summer I’ll have lots to show you!

Be passionate, determined and single-minded. Working on Four Little Pots and doing more freelance work in the spring taught me an incredible amount about how much I can get done when I focus in and refuse to let anything shake me. Working on projects that I love energizes me. I’m aching for long work days and glue on my fingers, and I’m excited to dive in.

Get involved in the local scene. There are wonderful meet up groups, knitting clubs, yoga studios, and craft mafias where I live… and I need to get out there. The idea of making more friends who share my interests makes me really happy- I want to build a fantastic circle of local friends to complement my girls who are far and wide.

Remember my passions & invest in them. I have so many interests that have fallen by the wayside since university: city planning, religion, history, cheesy sci-fi, film noir, theatre, real literature – these all make up part of who I am and they surface in wonderful ways. I need to keep exploring, no matter what my main focus is.

Make lots of time to play with Mister. Because he’s amazing. I never imagined that another person could be so fundamental to my whole life, I never even imagined that marriage could change me, and yet here I am. Loved & fed & kept up to date on movies, American holidays, and state of the art puppy wrangling techniques. I want us to have more good food, belly laughs, field trips and adventures together, just to be gratuitous about the whole love thing.

Love this little blog! Connecting with you in this place makes me so happy, it’s one my most rewarding projects. I am so proud of what it has become! Making friends and learning the ropes of blogging has been an amazing journey so far. I want to keep making this space more and more me, and I can’t wait to see where that will take it.

Stay present. A lot of the time I get caught up in spinning narratives for myself – about anything from work to friends – and more often than not it ends up causing me to get stressed out and vacate what’s actually going on in this very moment. I’m working on living more intentionally and being slightly less day dreamy. Just slightly.

Stretch. I want to grow my comfort zone by challenging myself- this can be anything from starting to volunteer to getting a table at a craft show, or going to a professional development workshop. I want to stamp out the little voice that suggests I count my self out and tune into the one that wants to deliver above and beyond expectations.

Stay focused, work hard, and pay attention to the positive thoughts. Because the alternative really isn’t an alternative.

{Like the idea of a birthday list? Check out  Sandy’s & consider making your own!}

I’m happiest when I’m working. When I have an idea for a post and I’m rolling over it in my mind, trying to find the right way to approach it and trying to find the right words. When I have a project on the go and ink on my hands, and when I finally find that moment of Ah Ha when everything comes into focus. I’m happiest when I have ideas that make me dream bigger than I thought I could, and that make me so single minded about what I want that I have trouble sleeping.

I’m happiest when I’m learning, so I’m really in heaven when I’m finding teachers.

I try to stay learning all the time, in all of the things that I love. I pour through the archives of blogs I adore, watching to see when what happened as their little projects took on lives of their own. I read the blogs of people who find my corner of the internet and lap up their lives. I listen to how my favourite writers spin their stories, and I read their favourite writers. I’ve started signing up for classes and workshops, to learn from local women who know their stuff and can help me with mine.  I talk with friends who craft and  friends who cook and friends who knit and friends who draw, and eat up the corners of their wisdom. I conspire. I try to trick particularly wonderful people into being mentors, and I try to live in that place of being open to take as much as I can in instead of trying to show what I know.

I think that one of the best things about being an adult is being able to find your own teachers in your everyday life, and I think the best thing about being a blogger or a blog reader these days is having so much of an ability to just pull up a chair beside people you enjoy and listen to for as long as you like.

I find most of my teachers in my friendships and online- how do you find your teachers, and what have you been learning lately?

]]> http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/03/these-days-happiest/feed/ 34 http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/03/friday-is-for-greater-thans/ http://www.kylaroma.com/2010/03/friday-is-for-greater-thans/#comments Fri, 26 Mar 2010 11:00:02 +0000 Kyla Roma http://www.kylaroma.com/?p=3308

sneakers   heels

movies   television

helpful   busy

thrifted   new

the hand jive   all other dances

podcasts   the radio

gelati   ice cream

barbecue   stove top

thunderstorms   snow storms

hardcover   ebooks

skype dates   phone calls

being honest   being polite

crafty   domestic

sarcastic   saccharine

micro brews   wine

road trips   all inclusives

actions  words

What are some of yours today?

It was tribal and claustrophobic in the way only family can be, and as you can imagine that kind of an environment bakes rebellion into your system. So when I graduated, I did what you might expect: I took a year off to regroup, broke up with my awful high school boyfriend, cut off my hair, pierced my nose and started stretching my ears to a zero gauge.

I didn’t want to be a girl from That School and I didn’t want to go to school with Those Girls. I needed a clean slate, and if I couldn’t bring myself to move away I would be a new version of me. Only the new version of me was just as shaky and uncertain as the old version, and just as confused.

I don’t know how many people end up having their mom beg them to get tattooed, but mine did. My mom is crazy and wonderful, definitely not your normal mom. She got it into her mind that what would knock all of this rebellion out of my nineteen year old system was simple: I just needed to get a tattoo.

I started pulling together ideas and trying to find something that had meaning to me, that wouldn’t be trendy or strange when I was an old woman. I thought about the year that had put me in this strange and upset state. It had been so difficult I was nearly pulled apart.

I found out that I’d been repeatedly cheated on by my boyfriend of two years, who had spent the previous six month constantly accusing me of being unfaithful. He’d started telling me who I was allowed to see and who I wasn’t, in so many words. He was making threats. I was afraid of him and deeply sad all the time, but finally had the courage to break up with him. He retaliated by making up awful stories about things “I’d said” about my friends, until I had no friends left and was almost completely without support. He started following me, showing up at my house at all hours of the day and night, showing up at my friend’s houses, at restaurants when I was out to dinner. He was always sitting in the background to let me know he knew where I was. My phone rang all the time, and he would show up at my mom’s house, screaming and pounding on the door until we had to call the police. I was rocked by panic attacks constantly, and was eventually diagnosed with a completely out of control panic disorder that paralyzed me to the point of not wanting to leave the house.

It was months and months of heartache followed by months and months of fear. I became a paper shell of a person who might blow away or burst into flames at any moment. My mom looked into my eyes and told me we would get a restraining order, a therapist, and a tattoo*. And in the mean time she would make me some tea.

I tried to find an image that would reinforce everything I knew I needed to become: strength after being broken, peace after being afraid.

I’ve always been hypnotized by koi fish. I could stay at a pond for hours peering into their funny faces and looking at their sleek, beautiful bodies. They grow to be so large and so old, always wrapped up in the hush of underwater.

I took Japanese at school until I was in grade eight, and in their legends the strongest koi fish can swim upstream against anything. Eventually it swims to the top of a waterfall where it leaps into the air, and in the mist is transformed into a dragon. When I was nineteen I knew that I needed to be a dragon girl, no matter how scary that process would be. I knew I could make  a decision about who I wanted to be: the nervous girl at the back of the room, or someone whose happiness radiated out through their every motion and word. I could be someone joyful and unapologetic if I worked on myself every single day for as long as I could see into the future.

This May I’m turning twenty five, and I’m closer to being that girl than I ever could have imagined. In a couple of weeks I’m meeting to talk to my artist about another piece (this time on my shoulder, the chronic pain in my back is too bad to have this built on) to celebrate how far I’ve come.

Every now and then I think about what these drawings on my body will look like when I’m an old woman. Will I still like them? Will they still be me? But when I get to the heart of it, I’m not worried.

They wil be perfect because they are a part of me. An old and creaky, belly laughing dragon girl is still a dragon, after all.

{get a closer look here & here}

*While I spoke with the police a number of times, I was too anxious and overwhelmed to go through with getting a restraining order, and I can’t tell you how many times I wish I had gone through with it. Talking myself out of what my therapist and the police recommended was another part of justifying my boyfriend’s behaviour. If you are in an abusive situation, please seek the help and the protection you need to feel safe.

But maybe you and I have just met for the first time to go out for lunch, and I place an elaborate order like “club sandwich, no meat, and could you add to caramelized onions and jack cheese from that other sandwich onto it?” and we start to have a conversation that goes like this:

You: “Oh, are you vegetarian?”

Me: “Yep!”

You: “Oh cool! How long have you been at that?”

Me: “Um…well, since I was six years old.”

You: “WHAT? WHY?”

(Don’t worry. By this point I can give my speech without notes.)

My mom went vegetarian when I was six. She didn’t have a parade, but eventually I noticed she wasn’t eating the same food as me and I asked her why, and she said “animals are my friends and I don’t eat my friends”. It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world, so I asked if I could stop eating the star shaped chicken stuff and tuna that I ate, and my parents said that was fine. In terms of major life decisions it couldn’t have been more of a non-event, I was so little that I was barely eating any meat at all. I just stopped, and unless I was having sandwich meat waved in my face by the boys at my elementary school I didn’t really think about it.

Growing up in my house, what you ate was never about right or wrong, it was just a fact: some people eat different things and some people are comfortable with different things. When it comes right down to it, I guess I started being vegetarian because I never really learned how to eat meat.

This isn’t to say that I haven’t been curious. While I’ve never tried red meat, I’ve had pizza where I got a slice of peperoni instead of cheese (oh my gosh, gross) and I’ve tried chicken once. Each time I felt sick after trying meat- my body isn’t used to it and my palate isn’t either. Even cooked chicken tastes rubbery and charred to me, like what I would imagine somethings body to taste like. Beyond not liking how it tastes I find the way most animals are raised and slaughtered is just straight up awful. If I was used to eating meat I would buy local organic meat, but I’m not used to it so I don’t. I’m healthy now so my logic is why bother eating something that I don’t like and that makes me sick when I’m fine without it?

While to me this seems straight forward, you wouldn’t believe how many friends, employers, and clients have refused to accept “I don’t like it” as an answer. They barrage me with questions and get defensive. They start explaining their eating habits when I haven’t asked. I’ve had well intentioned friends freak out and try to re-order their meals so they don’t offend me by eating meat in front of me (ps – who are the vegetarians that scare people into this kind of behaviour?? Please cut it out, you’re embarrassing the rest of us!!) and I’ve had supervisors drill me about my family history, how I grew up and my politics over a working lunch.

I get it.  People anticipate that I’m going to become a pushy salesmen about it, but once they get to know me and how much I love good food they start to see how my eating choices aren’t an issue, they’re something I’m positive and excited about. And they’re certainly not about anyone other than me.

Our Split Kitchen

After the big “Why?” the next thing that people want to know is how Mister dealt with becoming vegetarian when we moved in together. The answer is easy: Mister is not vegetarian- we have a split kitchen. I would never ask him to change something so fundamental as what he eats, and he has a slate of severe food allergies to contend with (corn, soy, fish, all nuts…) that mean he’ll never be vegetarian and will always have an Epi Pen. When we first moved in together we were worried about how it would work, but after the first month it became clear: cooking in a split kitchen isn’t that hard. It makes you think about cooking, and when you’re thinking about what you eat and how you make it, cooking can be a lot of fun.

How we eat is very straight forward, and it helps us to keep cooking fun and manageable:

1. We meal plan in a way that’s not a hassle. Mid-morning on Saturday we sit down and brainstorm for ideas. If I’m feeling uninspired I hit FoodBlogSearch.com and see what’s out there. Any ingredients that we know we don’t have goes on the list, and then we do a sweep of the kitchen basics and make sure we have enough of what we like to stock (milk, eggs, sugar, spinach, chickpeas, deli meats, tofu, black beans…). Ta da! Our grocery list is done. After a little streamlining this takes 5-10 minutes, or 15 if I decide to languish on food blogs.

2. We have a store of fail safe meals up our sleeves, and always stock the ingredients for them. Always. “Um….pizza?” is a common phrase in our house, especially if mid-week we’re getting tired of cooking. We have a pizza stone (you need one) and whenever we run out of dough I toss some together (15 min max), let it proof over night and then freeze it. As a result, making pizza only involves putting two pieces of dough into the fridge to thaw out during the day. We also always have stuff for croque-madames, Mexican, spicy tomato chickpea soup, and pasta. If we lived on a desert island I could subsist on these alone, and having them handy means we never have to think too hard if a recipe we picked out suddenly looks daunting mid-week.

3. We look for basics that can be built in stages so we can both eat how we like.This allows me to work from one recipe for the first half of cooking, and then split off into two dishes in the final stages of prep. Most soups and pasta sauces can be built like this, where we start with a veggie broth or a basic tomato or Alfredo sauce and at the last minute I split into two pots and add meat for Mister and tofu for me (or just leave mine as it is). Build your own pizza, Greek pitas, Mexican, melty sandwiches also fall into this category.

4. We cook like it’s Thanksgiving all the time because side dishes are awesome & everyone can eat them. Beyond our main dish we always have a couple sides, from beans, peas, potatoes, yam fries, to veg & non-veg appetizers, olive trays, rices and salads.

5. We understand the other person’s limitations. Mister used to hate veggies- but having them not over cooked and seeing that if you put butter on anything it tastes good he’s slowly come around. I am weirded out by cooking meat, but I have a morbid fascination with it and a sense that it’s kind of lame that I never cook anything meaty for Mister, so we both try to meet in the middle. It’s not a written agreement, it’s just our quiet way of trying to be a little adventurous.

6. I don’t cook scary or elaborate vegetarian recipes. A lot of veg. cookbooks have ingredients that I would love to try someday, but that day is not today. I don’t have time or energy after work to try to figure out how to use star anise in my dinner, so the only vegetarian cookbooks I buy are family cookbooks. These books cater to Moms who need fast food that their picky eaters will partake in. I have one that even gives alternate vegetable choices for some dishes based on common texture issues & has the nutritional information for everything. It’s my best friend.

Having a split kitchen isn’t the most straight forward thing in the world, but cooking with some restrictions isn’t as hard as it sounds. Now that I don’t have to grocery shop after work when I’m stressed and tired, it’s not a stressful thing. Add white wine to the equation- even less stress!

If you’re considering trying out a couple vegetarian meals a week, please don’t fall into the trap of thinking that this kind of cooking is hard. It’s simple, healthy, way less expensive and if you have a partner who is hesitant you don’t have to count yourself out.

Do you have any tips for keeping cooking simple & still keeping everyone happy with dinner?

ps – I have a post for next month brewing on my vegan experiment, if you have any questions you’d like touched on please pop them in the comments below!

It’s been five years, three moves, one house, two degrees, six jobs, two puppies, a hundred some concerts, a million or so I love you’s, and I still can’t get over how lucky we are to have bumped into each other out in this great big world.

You are my favourite.

Love,

Kyla

I’m really good at organizing but not very good at slowing down, so I make lists and add inserts to my daytimer to remind me of all the things I have to do, versus all the things I want to do. There are little sheets of vellum pressed in between pages with items like:

- Take bubble baths
- Bake
- Read books
- Go ice skating
- Be an active participant in your marriage

written on them in the hopes that when something comes up, I remember to make time for my life as well as my acquaintances and appointments.

Calm and centred is always what I’m aiming for. But soon enough life starts to rock at me gently, like I’m a dancer on a stage doing pirouettes. I know I’m turning, but I’m spotting and every time I turn my head I keep coming back to “calm”. I only look away for a second, what can it hurt?

But it can move so fast from a turning where I’m in control to being a kid on a tilt a whirl that I don’t notice when it happens. It’s like being small enough that the bars on the ride don’t hold me in properly, so I slam from side to side, bruising my hips and only seeing the sky outside the car for a moment when the rest of the ride can’t block my view.

Being in school again has been tough stuff, made harder by challenges I just didn’t see coming. In October and November I felt like I was in first year again, Sundays had expanded to include a designated bawling session where I just collapsed for a good long while until I was ready to try to stand on shaky legs. Mister had been changing since the summer, but finally went from sad and tired to plunging into a frightening depression in late fall. It took over our whole lives and it was just too scary to write about until I knew we were out. Everything was bad and strange. We were terrified. I watched him change into someone who looked and smelled like my husband, but who could only react to things like an echo of my Mister would. It was a strange pantomime of routine, with new worried glances and nightmares of our relationship being fundamentally different mixed in for variety.

After weeks of whispering to each other about plans to meet with someone so we could get this under control, we traced it back to a powerful new allergy prescription that he had started in the summer, tossed it out and tentatively smiled, hoping it was over. And somehow it is over. Mister is back to his sarcastic and quick to laugh self, while I am so thankful that we held on tight to each other and that we didn’t lose hope.

But believe me that managing Mister’s state of mind, school, blogging, and a six week guest blogging gig at the same time severely bruised me. And believe me, now that this burden has passed, finding comfort and fun in day to day normalcy hasn’t been normal at all, it’s been an amazing blessing.

We have been running out for good cheap food at local cafes on my study breaks and being luxurious, climbing into bed at nine and heading off against each other on Mister’s old GameCube. We’ve been watching heaps of our favourite TV shows, planning out the American road trips we want to take over the next few years. We’ve been biting our nails over playoff football and getting ready to celebrate our anniversary on February 1st- five years together, four years since we got our first place, one year and almost a half since we were married.

I met Mister when I was nineteen. I was a mess, fresh out of a destructive relationship that ended with me having to involve the police, living at home in a crowded house as my mom’s second marriage was falling apart, with some of the best people I knew in the clutches of terrible addiction. I had an anxiety disorder that was completely out of control, and was barely holding myself together. I didn’t believe in marriage, and I didn’t really believe other people had the power to do anything other than hurt me, so I walled everyone out.

But Mister loved me for who I was, not because it was convenient, and once I believed him I started to get better. Last semester was scary, but it gave me a chance to repay that favour just a little bit, and for that I am truly grateful.

So this semester, there will be no half measures when it comes to my staying focused on slowing down to enjoy this beautiful, simple life that we have. I didn’t get much of a normal life as a kid or a teenager, but while it might not seem that extraordinary, my life with Mister is more full than I could have ever hoped for back then. For me, every moment of our lives is something out of a story book that I read over and over as a child but couldn’t quite believe. Every moment is something that, if I choose to really be in it, will outweigh out the beautiful and broken places that I come from by a thousand fold. Even if we just use those moments for riding shopping carts around Safeway or playing board games.

It’s a lot easier for me to stay in the moment when I really understand what’s at stake. I am so thankful for these five years, and the hard ones that led me here so I can know how lucky I am. And I’m thankful for the hard moments we still have, because they remind me how fragile everything is, of how important it is to be kind, and of how important it is to laugh with the people we love while life lets us catch our breath.