Brave Heart, Brave Soul. She who is brave is free.

Have you ever asked yourself how people with what you may feel are hideous scars, deep, penetrating reminders of something gone wrong, face the mirror? I ask myself this question everyday as I catch my breath and a glimpse of my own scars out of the side of my eyes. I see where the beast came and ran her claws through me, scratched, dug and caused not just my body but my heart to bleed. I see the devastation she brought to my physical body, the loss, the pain and her name tattooed into my chest, a reminder she has marked me for all my days of my life here on this earth. At times I wonder if I am little more than the remnants of one of Dr. Finklestein’s experiments gone wrong. I can honestly say I have felt many times as if I am Sally from Nightmare before Christmas sewing her arm back on time and time again, always with a smile, yet still locked up in a tower trying to escape, as Dr. Finklestein keeps her hidden away from the town below. I have spent many a night on my knees, pour...

Can you imagine a world where the journey is the destination? Where the sky is turned upside down and the sun has turned blue? A place where the train does not take you there, but where you follow the tracks instead? Maybe a world where there is no normal and the meaning of the word normal is unusual? I know of a place, a world not too far off the beaten path where the destination is just the beginning… A place where you are who you are from the inside out instead of from the outside in. A world like no other you have ever seen where a promise is the gift we find in our journey instead of the promise we never find at end of the rainbow. Yes, a place where nothing makes sense at all yet everything makes perfect sense at the same time? Have you ever thought about a world where we could simply be ourselves? Not a world where we are trapped inside a shrinking box? For me this world well it would be a place where living with one breast in a two boobed world is not just ok but be...

Have you ever felt as if you were having an identity crises? Aren't those reserved just for mid-life? Well, darn it I sure thought so. It turns out, I was wrong. Well it happened once upon a night like this: So there I was, watching TV with my hubby, in my jammies when the silly bug bit me! I was fine one minute and knocked down the next. I was in mid sentence when I suddenly felt the strangest twinge of pain hit me. Before I knew what had dozed me over I was blurting the words out of my mouth, "Johnny I don't breasts anymore, I have just a breast! I think I am having an identity crises honey." Puzzled and confused I sat up and immediately looked down at what is left of my breasts. I felt strangely inadequate, as if I was incomplete. I wondered how Johnny saw me? Does he see the same women on the TV set and regret my lack of serious boobage? Seriously the young women sporting big beautiful breasts on the TV before me were perfect, at least by the wo...