I’m apart of quite a few mommy’s groups on my personal Facebook page. It’s an amazing outlet for asking questions and there are a few “uncensored” pages that will tell a woman when she’s being emotionally stupid.

Those are my favorite because sometimes a woman needs to be told when she’s involving herself too much in the drama, and sometimes women are emotionally intelligent enough to say, “you’re right; I’m pmsing.”

But what they really mean is, “I will turn on my favorite music up loud in my headphones, talk to my best friend, listen to the birds in the background and enjoy my happiness with a dark beer after the kids get tired of testing my patience. I’m so damn proud of them. I’ll calm down. I get overwhelmed sometimes.”

We don’t judge each other, if you take what is said in the groups to, “real life,” it’s an immediate ban, and drama is noticed quickly. That’s how my group on Facebook is taken care of. You will not be judged, we have some really amazing inspirational women who have healed beautifully from what they’ve been through and we try our best to lend our experiences so it’s easier for the next person. Some of these women have been through horrible things in their life, but they don’t have to brag about their scars; they wear them proudly with inspirational tattoos and still give their “baby daddies” time with the children they share because they don’t hold grudges like most of our exes do. We can come off cold often because our humor is dry.

When I re-read my blogs, I have to add in my feelings because I forget the horrible feelings that I felt in those moments. I can tell you that I’ve been there and I can relate, though and it does get easier. I’m living, breathing proof with four tattoos. On my 18th birthday, I was finally able to get a gorgeous fairy sitting on a moon with the word “Dreamer” fancily spelled underneath her on my upper back. My second was a spur of the moment “lover” on my left hip with a heart. You can only see it if I’m wearing a tank top. On my foot, it says “I knew I loved you before I met you.” It’s a play off of the Savage Garden song and I think it has to do with a child. When I was young, I thought it was a love song. Matthew had made me cry once again and I retreated to our bedroom without the door on it. I turned old 90’s love songs on and Savage Garden came on my Pandora. I wanted so badly to feel that way about my husband, but I only felt that love for the son we couldn’t agree on a name for. Somehow I saved $50 and went to a tattoo artist and got a battle scar I was really proud of; Matthew told me he, “didn’t even know me anymore,” when he saw it.

My most recent tattoo I got in April of this year from Sky Images in Muskegon it’s the word “Grace” on my left wrist, because I need a constant reminder, next to March’s month flower, the daffodil. He did wonderful work; I’ll post a picture. Dylan was born in March. I’m still not sure the definition of grace, but I’m figuring it out and I think it’s pretty cool that Whitney already had the word, “Grace” tattooed on herself, too before I met her because it’s her middle name.

People share a lot more in common than they really realize and I think the number one cause of suicide is loneliness. My dad committed suicide two days before my mom remarried in 2010. I was comforted by Shelby because he had found out how to break into my step dad’s home and was just “there” when I woke up from a nap and noticed my mom had called me several times while she was in Tennessee about to marry the man I felt a horrible emotional disconnect from. I went out the back slider door and called her back; she broke the news to me in a somewhat cold manner because she was probably reeling from the news. My mom found out her ex husband took his life the day she remarried the love of her life. How horrible of someone to do that to her- I wish her and I could talk about that and she could stop being so angry at the world.

The best friend Whitney I wrote a previous blog about told me that I have saved her life and I reminded her that she’s saved mine, too. I went to suicide survivors meetings after the news of my dad’s ultimate decision that he was done trying and found no comfort. For a long time, I wish that he would have known that regardless, I would have been on the other end of the phone bringing him back to life. Thankfully, when Whitney called me twice in a row, I was able to get her back on the line and that has given me the inspiration to hopefully save more lives.

Rachel Marie