Healing the Heart


I know I have been neglecting this little blog of mine, especially in the recipe department.

I apologize, but life has happened.

These past two months have been filled with heartbreak, excitement, tears, smiles, laughs, and new opportunities.

I’ve learned a lot. I wouldn’t change anything about it, except that I would loooooove an explanation.

I would love an explanation for why some things happened.

Why do these things occur at all?

I deserve one.

If I get one, I may never know.

On the upside, I have really had the chance to focus on myself these past few weeks and gone on a few spontaneous mini trips where I have floated in a lake, been burnt to a crisp like bacon from the sun, had dinner alone, bought myself a beautiful dress (just because) and listened to a variety of rap tunes and Tori Kelly on repeat, because any white girl with a soulful voice speaks to my heart and because rap artists can express what’s in my mind without me having to say it. ūüėČ

I have learned that each day isn’t perfect. There are days where I am pumped to get out of bed, workout, and have morning coffee while talking to the baristas at my favorite coffee shop.

But then, then there are days when I walk my dog and I burst into tears (definitely happened), or I take a shower and my tears are heavier than the water that is coming out of the shower head.


Because I’m only human.

I have emotions.

It’s perfectly ok to have bad days.

I think the toughest things about break-ups are the memories that you create with that person.

I love to make memories. It’s my favorite part about life.

But really, it’s hard to pick up a tennis ball and play fetch with my dog…when the tennis ball was given to him by the very guy that vanished out of my life.

I can’t even look at a red rose in the supermarket.

All other colors…yes.

Go for it.

But red, nope.

For someone who grew up helping her grandfather pick red roses from his garden….this.really.sucks.

I can’t think about trips to Greece, or Nashville, or Georgia, or going camping, or even look at an REI store because i had “we” plans with this person, not I plans.

So, how do I pick up the pieces? How does my heart heal?

It takes time.

What’s crazy is that one day, I will have thanked all of the people who broke it.

I like to think about it this way: During my life, my heart has been and will go through experiences that will gut it from the inside out. Those experiences will rip it bare and I will eventually get those pieces of my heart back, but this time, they will be better. They will be stronger than before. It’s the kind of feeling that I get when I buy a new pair of shoes and look at my old pair of shoes side by side. It’s always difficult for me to part with the old shoes because they have carried me many miles, been through wear and tear, and have scratches and coffee stains, and dirt under the soles. I will probably keep them just in case. But the new shoes represent the ability to accept change and growth. They are ready to endure everything the old pair of shoes has and more.

Our hearts are forever changing from experiences in life, but in the end, our hearts are the one muscle in our body with the most character because they have been continually torn apart and rebuilt.

Here is to my new heart and all of the life experiences we are going to have together.


Cashew Honey Granola


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Houston Press Menu of Menu’s Extravaganza


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