Barbie's Dream World

If my life did not allow for an endless succesion of death and rebirth it would be too constricting for me. 

However, there is something inside each and every one of us that drives us to grow, to evolve, to awaken. 

What happens when we finally wake up?

The Best & Worst of Barbie

When most people think of Barbie, they picture perfection.

The pink convertible gliding through the sunny hills of Los Angeles. Blonde hair blowing effortlessly in the wind. Designer clothes. A dazzling smile. The dream house. The dream life.

She looks like she has everything.

But if Barbie had a real heart instead of a plastic one, I wonder if she'd tell us she was lonely too.

Maybe that's the irony of perfection.

Sometimes the people who look the happiest are carrying the heaviest burdens.

The sunshine isn't always shining.

The rainbows don't show up every day.

And not everything is always pretty in pink.

This blog isn't about perfection.

It's about what happens after life tears you apart.

It's about surviving the days you never thought you'd make it through.

It's about learning that healing isn't linear, grief isn't pretty, and strength rarely looks the way we imagine it will.

For years, I thought my purpose was to save everyone else.

I became the fixer.

The healer.

The stepping stone.

The safe place.

People found me when they were broken, and I loved them until they were whole enough to leave.

What I didn't realize was that every person I helped carried away a little piece of me.

Eventually, there wasn't much left.

I spent years believing everyone else had life figured out.

That everyone else knew how to love.

How to heal.

How to be happy.

The truth?

Most of us are just broken children living inside adult bodies, pretending we know what we're doing.

We hide our pain behind careers, relationships, success, humor, beauty, and carefully curated lives.

We smile while silently falling apart.

Every single one of us has demons.

The goal isn't pretending they don't exist.

The goal is learning to live with them without letting them run the house.

My story isn't unique because I suffered.

Unfortunately, suffering is part of being human.

My story is unique because I finally decided to stop running.

For seven years, I loved an abusive man addicted to vodka, cocaine, and the chaos that followed him everywhere he went.

I'll call him M.

He beat me.

He stalked me.

He manipulated me.

Somehow...

He also convinced me it was love.

Loving him slowly unraveled the person I used to be.

Piece by piece, I disappeared.

Until one day I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back at me.

The biggest lesson I learned wasn't that monsters exist.

It was that you cannot save someone who refuses to save themselves.

I believed everyone could change if they were loved enough.

I believed determination conquered addiction.

I believed love conquered everything.

I was wrong.

Some people choose their demons.

Some people lose to them.

And sometimes loving someone means watching them destroy themselves while taking pieces of you with them.

For a long time, I believed that made me weak.

Now I know surviving it made me strong.

This isn't just a story about abuse.

It's a story about rebuilding.

About faith.

About psychology.

About grief.

About losing people.

About finding yourself after you've forgotten who you are.

About choosing to stay when every part of you wants to run.

Most importantly...

It's about hope.

Not the cheesy, inspirational kind.

The hard-earned kind.

The kind that only exists after you've crawled through hell and somehow found the strength to stand back up.

There will be ugly chapters here.

Some will make you uncomfortable.

Some might make you cry.

Some might make you feel seen for the very first time.

There will also be laughter.

Growth.

Healing.

A little sarcasm.

A lot of sass.

And an unhealthy amount of pink.

Because that's life.

It can be breathtakingly beautiful and unimaginably painful at the exact same time.

If you're broken...

Welcome.

If you're healing...

Welcome.

If you've ever wondered whether life could still become something beautiful after it completely fell apart...

Welcome.

This is where we rebuild.

One page at a time.

One lesson at a time.

One beautifully imperfect day at a time.

This is officially The Best & Worst of Barbie.

Because life isn't always pretty in pink.

But that doesn't mean it can't still become beautiful.

XOXO,

B