I remember the first time I went to therapy. It was a lovely woman’s home in Beverly Hills. She had an office on the second floor of her home overlooking her pool. She was older. At least I thought she was. I was 21. Or 22. She was probably late 40’s, early 50’s. I was a bit embarrassed to be there. A bit ashamed. A bit lost. And a bit terrified. Lucky for me, she rid me of my anxiety 10 minutes into our session. And I didn’t die a slow death in a therapists office on a Wednesday.
Read MoreI like to think of seeing my life like I see great cinema. Frame by frame, moment to moment. And sometimes I like to just stop the tape right in the middle of it all, and observe it in black and white. And sometimes when you stop in the middle of a moment, and you observe, you capture the very reasons of why we are here. In black and white, plain and simple, to love and to exist in love.
Read MoreLast night I borderline made out with my boys. Not really, but you get me. We kissed goodnight, we did hugs, and it went on and on for what felt like hours. I didn’t want to stop. Neither did they. As I snuggled them together in a group mommy hug across both cribs, I said out loud while looking up at the ceiling, “Thank you God for tonight. For this. For my family. For this love. I said “night night” to the twins, blew them a kiss and I walked out.
I’m overly affectionate. Most people that know me, know this about me. I like hugs. Kissing. Touching. Holding. All of it. It makes me calm. Makes my heart feel settled. Feels like love.
