Out of the Forge

 Other than a recent repost to remove a photo, it has been over a decade since I last posted here. I’m not even sure where to begin. I look back at these old posts fondly, but they don't necessarily represent the person I am today. I wanted to share an update before diving back into my crafts.

​About a decade ago, I pulled the Temperance card from a tarot deck during a meditation. I wasn’t trying to predict the future or anything that serious; I was just considering new ideas and opening myself up to whatever the universe had for me.

​What I didn’t realize was that the universe had a forge—and like steel, I was about to be tempered. The fire began with a whirlwind romance that pulled me out of New York City and back to the suburbs. Then came motherhood, with all its beautiful ups and downs.

​Crochet was the first craft to really hook me, but I soon grew to embrace others. A Cricut was instrumental in decorating a beautiful beach wedding, and a sewing machine helped me create a valance for a big bay window when I became a homeowner.

​After my first son was born, postpartum treatment led to an incredibly validating diagnosis of ADHD. Something I had always sensed about myself was finally confirmed. I wasn't an "airhead" or "lazy," as so many millennial women were led to believe in the '90s. I began to embrace the unique way I think, learning strategies to accommodate my struggles and turning my quirky brain and its treasure trove of useless information into a superpower.

During this time, I crocheted less and less. I found that small children are as attracted to yarn as kittens, and counting stitches no longer soothed my mind the way it used to. I sewed Halloween costumes and experimented with recipes; my crafts became very "mom-centric."

​Heading into the pandemic, the flames of the forge grew hotter than I could stand. My lived experience began to demonstrate why so many had raised their eyebrows when I married a man I’d only known for a year. Rather than arts and crafts, I was learning about safety planning and the complex ins and outs of the family court system.

​Thanks to an incredible support system of friends, family, coworkers, and a great attorney, I am finally on the other side. I am stronger, more resilient, and—just like tempered steel—I am as sharp as ever.

​My boys and I are healthy, happy, and safe. Our apartment has an art wall decorated with their drawings and creations. I finally feel like myself again.

​When I look back at these old posts, I’m reminded of the conversation between Alice and the Caterpillar. She tries to explain something to him that she doesn't quite understand, saying: “I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.” The
Caterpillar eventually undergoes his own change, emerging from the chrysalis.

​That is exactly how I feel looking at these archives. I am still the same me, but different, too. Now that I’m back in my own skin, I’ve been crafting more and learning new skills. My hope in returning to this blog is to continue this journey and share it all with you.