Reflections | Trey Ratcliff

Life is weird.

You do things you think you need to do and then once you do them, you wonder why you thought you had to do them. Similarly, you do things without really thinking about it because you think you want to do them and then once you stop doing them, you wonder what the fuck took you so long to pull your head out of your ass.

I believe with a deep, fiery passion that sometimes in life, you have to decide for yourself that enough is enough. You have to decide to call it good, cut and run, and get the fuck on with living your life and finding your bliss.

“One day you’re gonna wake up and you’re not gonna recognize yourself.”

That line is from the first season of Sex and the City. I know SATC isn’t exactly an intellectual show, but the writers for that show really know their shit. I don’t know about you, but more than once in my life I’ve gotten completely lost, woken up and not recognized myself. Sometimes it’s not necessarily a bad thing – change is inevitable, and on a lot of those mornings when I’ve had those realizations that I have, indeed, changed, it’s just a natural part of growing up.

But sometimes, those realizations come with burden. Sometimes, waking up and not knowing yourself when you look in the mirror is painful. I used to think I had it all together, had it all figured out. If I could go back to my high school graduation and tell myself one thing, it would be this: DON’T RUSH THINGS. Don’t push it. And for crying out loud, try living by yourself for a year. I mean BY YOURSELF, girl.

Because that’s something I never really did. I’ve never lived alone, aside from a month or two the summer between graduating from high school and going off to college, and even then I had a boyfriend who was over all the time and a mom just a few blocks away. Then again in college, for a couple months right before graduating – but, again, I had a boyfriend who spent a lot of time there.

And I’m starting to understand how important living on your own can really be. Maybe not for all people, because maybe some people are better at really knowing themselves than I apparently am, but for some people – people like me – living alone is a pretty key part of growing into yourself, into the person you’re supposed to be. And because I never did that, never lived alone – albeit by choice, willingly – I feel as though I’ve missed out on growing into ME. I feel like a different version of me, not the original.

And I’m wondering who I really am.

Writing my heart out

E’s first birthday cupcake

This picture was taken on E’s first birthday, at his grandma’s house.

This picture is bittersweet for me. There were a lot of things that went on that day – some exciting things (he’s a year old, his first cupcake, hooray!), but also some not good things. I hate that his first birthday will most likely always be tinged with some negative feelings, but it’s in the past now and I can’t change that. I’ll spare the details here, but suffice it to say his birthday was not what I envisioned.

(Please note that we had his birthday party a little more than a week in advance, due to Thanksgiving.)

And that’s all I have to say about that. For now.



It’s crazy to think that a year ago today, I was in the hospital and I hadn’t seen this beautiful face yet.

It’s hard to believe an entire year has passed already, but at the same time it’s hard to imagine life without E.

He is the single best thing to ever happen to me. He is funny (so funny!) and sweet (so sweet!) and amazing. He is the only person on this planet who can make me angry while simultaneously making my heart burst with joy and pride. He consistently keeps me in check, makes me more aware of my thoughts and actions than ever before. He makes me want to be better. I am better because of him.

I thought today would be different. Bigger. But E’s first birthday came and went without much fanfare. Maybe that’s because we had his party last weekend, but regardless… I’ve realized that watching him grow up is better done gradually, enjoying the subtle moments, than in specific steps. The little things are the big things.

And you, little man, are the biggest. I love you.