Freedom of Voice

I am going to say this unapologetically and without the disclaimer I often feel the need to include: I detest when people refer to teachers, nurses, or any other public servants as heroes. I find it even more egregious when they are likened to superheroes.  That's not to say that I don't admire the hell out of people who continue to follow their calling and manage to do amazing things with very little, people who have had many of the vital resources stripped away and still pull off near miracles on a daily basis.  Do they do heroic things? Certainly. But, it's too much pressure to expect them to strap on a costume and complete feats of strength every single day.   They shouldn't have to be heroes in the first place. In fact, calling them heroes seems like a way to placate them, to keep them going when we ask them to keep doing better while giving them less and less.  This poem is dedicated to those people ready to step off a pedestal they never asked to be on....

There once was a girl with a hollow leg and an iron stomach. She could eat whatever she wanted  whenever she wanted, in any combo, without any ill effects. She became cheap entertainment for family members who would marvel at how much she could put down, her grandfather once making her a giant Paul Bunyan size breakfast and calling the neighbor over to marvel at how much food she could inhale even though she was so tiny. Her tall and skinny frame earned her the nickname "Bony Butt."  She learned over the years that food and weight are complicated, both tied to conflicting emotions such as happiness and guilt. She also learned that hollow legs turn into thunder thighs and bony butts can collect a lot of flesh.  More recently, she has learned that foods can harm or heal--and that it looks different for each individual. She has learned that she doesn't need to apologize for being picky about what she chooses to put down her gullet, for she is the one who pays the price when ...

Disclaimer: At the risk of becoming one of the parents in the hilarious Progressive commercials, I'm going to tell a little tale of an injury, not because I am looking for sympathy, but because of the lesson I learned from it. I won't, however, tell you what I ate or what time I woke up. Nor will I ask silly questions about technology or hang inspirational signs throughout the house. Promise.  I felt the "pop" inside my leg as I did banded low side shuffles, part of a DIY total body workout I pieced together on the Sunday before our 3-day anniversary staycation. My shinny shin shin was already screaming from leg day at the gym a couple of days prior, but I convinced myself it was nothing.  And then a took a few steps to return equipment to its rightful place. Ouch. I hobbled the quarter mile home, still talking myself off the ledge. You just need to stretch it.  This walk will help. It's fine. You're fine. Everything is fine.  I applied some ice and threw on a...

Two and a half months ago, I took what some are politely calling an early retirement. I even adopted that phrase because it was easier than saying, "I quit." I was ashamed to be a quitter, to leave a position that I worked hard for, that many would love to have. It paid well, it was fairly flexible, and I loved many of the people I worked with.  It took two and a half months for me to finally be able to say this: "Hi, I'm Annmarie, and I'm a quitter."  Where is the shame in letting go of things that at best don't serve you and at worst are making you ill?  I had to ask myself that question in the months leading up to penning my resignation letter and for the months after I handed my keys and badge over. It took months for the answer to come: There is no shame in letting go of things that don't serve you and are making you ill.  Then came the questions:  What are you going to do now? What have you been up to since you left?  What do you do with all th...

10 years ago, we upgraded John's original gold wedding band to a platinum band to match the ring he gifted me on our 15th anniversary. I wanted to make it special, so I racked my brain for something meaningful to engrave on the inside as a surprise.  I went through song lyrics from our favorite bands and wedding song: "One." Meh. "Here and Now." Meh. Admittedly, I don't remember the rest, and if they were that unmemorable, I'm really glad I didn't have any of them etched on a ring.  I don't know what made me think of it, but the idea of marriage as serving a life sentence came to me. Just to be clear: I don't think of my marriage as a prison, but it seems to be a popular standing joke.  It hit me: 20 to life. Meaningful, clever (I think),  and just the right amount of my brand of snarky. I thought it may be a risky move--if he hated it, no one else would see it, but he would know it was there. I decided to take my chances.  He loved it. So di...

Oddly enough, I realized I wrote a piece with the same title a couple of years ago.  Those of you who know me know I am not a fan of platitudes. Those of you who really know me know I loathe them.  Disclaimer: If you think you might be offended by some straight talk, please exit the building now. I am not trying to lose friends or make enemies, but I realize some of what I will say will be unsettling to people who insist on keeping up the "positive at all costs" facade.  For those of you still here, thanks for being willing to delve into this radical idea with me.  Here goes. In general, I do lean toward optimistic, but not the over-the-top Sally Sunshine version. My brand of optimism is positivity with a healthy dose of realism and an even healthier dose of sarcasm to ease the pain. To pretend that everything is perfect and wonderful and great all the time is a sign of delusion in my book. Not that I piss on anyone's pot of gold. If that is the way you want to live,...

Thank you to my writing compadre for this idea. It was a fun way to kick off 2021! 1)  Highlight of 2020-- Well, this was actually taken in November 2019, but the anniversary of this very special union was in 2020, so I am counting it. 1) Because it is that special. When one of your kids finds love eerily similar to the one you have with your own husband, there is a special kind of peace, and 2) because I have no other highlights of 2020 on my camera roll. None of my son's non-existent graduation ceremony from UF, no vacations, nada.  2) Meaningful Moment Doesn't look like much, but this gray whale sighting--particularly a scarred female--was a pivotal moment in my life. I wrote a poem about that day that was published, and the mystical events that surround it still resonate with me to this very day.  3) Moment with Loved Ones We have had so many great family vacations, but I just love the expressions on each of our faces on this Utah ski trip. Being silly and laughing. P...