Perfectly Imperfect…and it makes me crazy!

This post almost didn’t happen. I finished writing it 5 days ago and ran it by my Miller men; the reaction was different than I expected, so I paused on posting it. In the days since I ran this by my guys, the world has lost two incredible icons: Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain both died by suicide and it has broken my soul in so many ways. I found myself very tired of fighting, begging really, for the world to please realize that their judgement, shame, embarrassment, misunderstanding, and over-simplification of our illnesses and the pathetic treatment options available are literally killing us at the rate of one every 40 seconds. But when my fave called me this morning to tell me about the death of Bourdain, he also said that he had shared my blog with a co-worker; it was the silent “Go.” that I needed to take this post live.

This weekend, we will celebrate 17 years of marriage – my husband has saved my life in more ways than I can count. He has believed in me, encouraged me, carried me, pushed me, breathed for me, and taken care of me when I could do none of those things for myself. And because he saved me, I can tell my story and maybe, just maybe, someone reads something here that encourages them to take just one more step forward, to ask for help, and to tell the demons that today isn’t their day and tomorrow isn’t looking good either. So this post is dedicated to the leader of this thing we call #MillerLife – you are my hero and I am so crazy blessed to get to do life with you. And I am ending the battle now: I definitely got the better (way better) portion of “for better or worse”.

And now, the long over due intro to #MillerLife…

While at the moment, my “loyal” readers are people who could likely write this attempt at a blog for me, the hope is that someday, someone will stumble across it and read something that resonates with them. That being the case, they might like some background of this train wreck that they clicked on – here it is.

First and foremost, Jesus and I are tight; I’m a really stubborn, often-prodigal daughter of the King, who is way more patient and gracious than I deserve.02082018social_380x@2x I left the Catholic Church as soon as I graduated from 12 years of parochial school and didn’t really consider ever returning to any sort of church until one of my tribe found a tiny church that she liked and said I should come with her. She was raised with zero religion so if she was into it then it was worth a shot. I sat in a pew in that church for almost 2 years and cried for an hour every week because for the first time ever I was hearing about a God that loved my scarred, icky, shame-filled soul. He didn’t hate me for making attempts to end my life or ruin it in 100 different ways; far from it, He made me this way on purpose for a purpose. I often left with more questions than answers (and mad – really mad) but I was hooked! My husband Ron, who I found out as we were planning our wedding in 2001, was checking out Jesus, at the same church, at the same time but life would require that our paths have a few more twists and turns before God decided that these two lost souls of His were ready to do life together.

I’m a former gymnast and carried perfectionism, along with a love/hate relationship with my body and food, into the the 30 years since I left the sport. But I also brought with me “fall down 7 times, get up 8 times”, push through the pain, “whether you believe you can or believe you can’t, you’re right”, and what it means to be committed, really committed, because gymnastics isn’t a sport that you can “kind of” do and also be competitive – it is an all in proposition and I’m like that, to a fault, and expect it from the people I do life with (explains why the list of my tribe and what I say “yes” to is pretty specific and very intentional).

Daughter of divorced parents (who get along better than most), Daddy’s girl, mental health warrior (manic-depression, anxiety, and panic disorders are my blessings), impatient and stubborn brat, people-pleaser, extrovert but really content to just be with my people rather than a crowd and love to operate in the background but no one will let me, oldest child (have a sister and brother), mama of two boys, two angels, and the world’s best dog, big dreamer, idealist, straddling the line between red and blue, advocate, consultant, wanna be writer, hater of clutter (in my head and in my surroundings), control freak, chronic pain sufferer, 3-time suicide survivor, lover/hater/addict of social media, daily reader of #VerseOfTheDay and always surprised that they are exactly what I need to hear, wife of the most patient human on the planet (either that or he’s crazier than me – jury is still out), non-profit founder, PTO president, leader maker, golf mom, needer of things to be crossed off lists (but can’t keep track of stuff that needs to get done), sufferer of pride that makes it hard for people to see me in a state of weakness (based on my perception, not theirs), and believer that if people just treated each other with the intent of nothing more than wanting the best for them our world would be an incredible place. So train wreck is a pretty accurate description and why my tribe is the best ever – they saw all of this chaos and said, “Yep – I’m totally down for that.”

I will close with this family photo. While I do not like “stuff” per se, I LOVE pictures and moments and all that. I am mean and on a mission when it comes to trying to get a picture and with my guys it is seriously, nearly impossible. They are 150% their father’s children so when they see me get frustrated because they are complaining the sun is too bright or they were talking or messing with their clothes or just being themselves, they actually take total joy in seeing me lose it. I seriously think they do it on purpose. Someday, maybe for fun, I will post the ridiculousness that was our attempt at an Easter this year picture, but for now the single one below will have to do. One of my tribe told me this was the perfect picture for the blog because it shows that we are perfectly imperfect. She was so right. I’ve also included the Facebook caption – it sums us up in very few words!


L to R: Jackson (15), Coleman (13), me, and Ron (aka my fave) on the 18th green of Jackson’s high school home golf course.

3 attempts at getting this picture:

1) Jackson and Ron both with eyes closed.
2) Coleman talking (I know, I am shocked too – not).
3) The “winner”: Ron’s eyes closed but far enough away that it was the best option.

Seriously, no sun, no flash…it isn’t that hard folks! Mama just wants a flipping picture that depicts the facade of the perfect family we all fill our feeds with – is that too much to ask??? 😂😂😂 Would expect nothing less from my #MillerMen…love these goofballs! 💞


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