This is me. I’m 40 something years old. I’ve lived a life that … well, kind of sucks and is kind of enchanted. I’ve loved. I’ve lost. I’ve gained. I’ve learned. And most of all (and most importantly), I’m learning to move on.

That picture was just taken today while I was on Lake Michigan with my husband, Eric. I’m happy, and I’m living my life, untethered. I don’t have anyone pulling my strings. And I’m not allowing the past to envelope me. As testament to this – Eric, myself, and the pups went to stay at an AirBNB in my home town. I looked around excitedly and confusedly to all the changes and the not so changes. The Holiday Gas stations are now Circle K’s. There are pot dispensaries everywhere! Wow… My hometown is pretty kewl. Gas prices were ridiculous, of course. Grocery prices were okay. And along the way I got to show Eric some of my old stomping grounds.

This is the school where my mom worked. And this is where I learned about how a kid can pack his own lunch with mini marshmallows. There can in fact be more fear about learning cursive than any math. That being tall was cool, even back then. Crookham, Sivila, Kulju, Laurila, Ghiardi, & Benzi. Most of my teachers back then were amazing. And also, Ferns. I pointed out where, on the playground that I kicked Chris Hartman in the balls while Adam Wills ran his pussy legs off. Can’t handle the fat kid, huh? Life was good in Elementary School. I had friends like Tunya, Denise, Kelly, Lesley, and Michelle. Karena, Laura, and I. So much fun. Riding our bikes as far as our legs would take us. Trauma didn’t exactly start until 5th grade. By then I was in love with metal music. Def Leppard and Metallica. While still having respect for pop music on the radio. Duran Duran is making a comeback. For a hot minute. Things are slightly askew, but … I guess, enough.

Negaunee Middle School is where things started really getting askew for me. Puberty is happening, adjusting to Dianne dying, siblings in college or graduating. I’m essentially an only child by that point. My niece and I are about 8 years apart in age. It felt weird being an aunt that early. Trying to understand my body and why my doctor was making a reference to the fact that my breasts are larger than most girls my age. And my brother getting pissed because I almost got hit by a car running to leave after that comment was made. Oops.

Sticker books, stickers, barbie dolls, phone calls with a huge phone cord connected. We didn’t have everything. The things we did have were really old. Tube tv’s and remote controls really started. Cereal boxes were entertaining and cartoons were only on Saturday mornings. The morning you would live for. Pound puppies, The Wuzzles, The Gummi Bears, Dungeons and Dragons, Muppet Babies, Ghostbusters Cartoon *sigh*, The Get A Long Gang, I’d sit in front of the tv when I was little. Mere inches away. I got the luxury of having most every toy and accessory for the toys that I got. My mom spoiled me.

By High School, I really started hanging out with bad influences. I was smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol. Smoking pot a little. Not much though. Sex was something that was fun, but disappointing in the end. Men are selfish. A female orgasm is myth and fantasy.

Here are the steps from the parking lot of said high school to enter into the gates of hell. Or at least I did. Freshman year is when mom goes into the coma. That’s when all the drinking, misbehaving and sex started After my mom went down. I was lonely. I was terrified. And massively depressed. I didn’t understand life. I just wanted to be happy. I wanted someone to tell me what I meant to them. I wanted someone to reach out to me. I wanted people to tell me it was okay. That I was loved. And I was angry. I was being emotionally neglected and resented for acting out in a way that is very NORMAL for the psychologically traumatized teenage person. Studies show… if you just know that it’s someone else’s problem, but only a physical man as a bank and authority figure is there…. nothing changes.

After approximately 20 years of therapy, a lot more loss, and many hundreds of dollars paid for therapy, tears, kleenex, and poor Eric and his migraines (possibly caused by me and the kids) I found this rock at the bottom of those steps. I gripped it tight and threw this rock into the rock wall facing those steps. I was, as an adult angry. I threw the rock in an act of anger and frustration. I threw the rock to release the grip that that time represented in my mind. And my throw gave me a chance to throw it elsewhere. Not to imbue negative energy into the rocks. I was just saying… I’m done with this now. I’m throwing this away so it can’t hurt me anymore. And then? … I kept the rock…. Negaunee High School owes me this rock.

Near our accommodations, Negaunee has a trail. Walking, hiking, biking trails near to Disc Golf and a really fun tribute to the Miners. The men who gave the town life. Many generations of Miners run through Tilden or Empire among the others that exist(ed). **Rest in Peace Empire Mine**

This is part of the legacy that my father has left behind. He didn’t do physical mining, but he was a metallurgist. As a kid, I confused metallurgist with a meteorologist. My dad brought printer paper home for me to write on or draw on. He got gifts from the Japanese tourists that my dad gave tours for of the Empire Mine. I think he even brought a person from the Netherlands to sit down to supper with our family.

I know that I made mistakes while I lived there. I know that I was challenged by traumatic events. Not once, not twice, and then thrice! I was getting emotionally cannon blasted for years. Adding with my mounting PTSD, Depression, and generalized anxiety, I was…. as the country song goes ‘Looking for love in all the wrong places…”

I have made amends with myself. I have thrown that awful time away. The memories remain, true. I’m not that fifteen year old idiot. I’m not that angsty fuck anymore. I’m not irresponsible (anywhere near as much) as I was. I’m solid. My character is pretty good. I’m trustworthy and hardworking. I bring a lot of my family in with me. My grandparents and great grandparents. From Finland to the United States.

I’ve begun to see things … I suppose, as they are. I can love Negaunee and Marquette for their charms. I can see it in a new light. I don’t have to identify Upper Michigan as trauma land. I’m me. I’m not perfect. I probably talk too much and is obsessed with dogs. I love too quickly and become attached. I wield dedication and love to those I trust. The few friends that I have made – I treasure beyond expression. They have my heart with them where they are.

I have a commendable job. Despite not completing college, my life experience and hard working character has given me opportunities to continue my career at my employer of four years. My last job was for three years prior to that. I raised my children with the help of my amazing yet broken husband, Eric. We’ve been married for twenty something years. He’s always tried to help me. Even long after he was exhausted.

Negaunee Michigan is always going to be in my heart. I’ve released the bad and I’m allowing the good to finally come to me. I’m making new connections and seeing myself for who I truly am.

New chapters ahead. I’m ready.