i’d spent most of the year angry. confused on why my destiny had been canceled. i’d convinced myself that although God was a good God, he’d decided i wasn’t good enough to be loved…

once i started heels classes in college, i realized there were so many other ways to be a woman… i realized that things i thought were overly feminine were more about taking care of myself, and it has made all the difference in my self confidence and how i see myself.

i couldn’t be prouder of the little boy that was the smallest in all his classes until covid. the boy who was always nothing but himself. the super mario kid. the path he’s forged for himself runs deep. he’s creating a legacy to forever be proud of when he thinks about high school.

because of my team, i grew a lot as a coach, as a mom, and as a person. i coached them through one amazing season, but they carried me through multiple.

we hadn’t really spoken in years. a “hello” here and there. a t-shirt request for my daughter’s second birthday. nothing of substance. but something about the post she made told me to ask if she wanted company. i know i did.

guilt dissipates when handled properly. shame grows when you think about it. i don’t know what i’ve carried with me for so long that has forced me to feel so much shame. what i do know, now, is that the shame i’ve carried all of these years is unfair to me. it’s affected the way i see myself, the way i love, and the way i handle things life throws my way.

my 17 diapers is literally probably about 17 diapers.

my 17 diapers is randomly crying in the shower, or while im driving, or while watching dance videos, or while looking at my kids.

sharing bits of my struggle with postpartum depression, 17 diapers at a time.