So, three years ago tomorrow I stopped blogging. Doing so wasn’t really a conscious decision. My life was, frankly, upside down (or maybe it was inside out) and I was at a loss for what to say/write anymore.

Hold up — Does that say three years? For real? My how things have changed…

Back then, I was living for work, mostly writing about how miserable I was. I was living not exactly with my parents, but extremely adjacent to them. In about 600 square feet. With two cats and a dog. I wasn’t dating. I had pretty much given up on the idea of having a someone. I had no idea where I was going professionally (that term is used very loosely in this context). And personally, I had given up. I hated how I felt and was disgusted with how I looked. I felt used, abused, neglected and overwhelmed.

And now, here I am three years later. Almost 100 pounds thinner. (Sadly) much closer to the big 4-0. 200 miles from my parents and the rest of my family. Still juggling more than one job in more than one field. Living in a fantastic house with an even more fantastic man who I am about to marry.

So yeah, things have changed. I still don’t have it all figured out but I’m getting there. I still don’t understand the average person’s selfishness or the average business owner’s willingness to take advantage of those who work for him. I’ll probably never understand racism or child abuse or war.  And I can pretty much guarantee that I never will have it all figured out. The difference in me now and me then? I’m okay with the not knowing.

Sure… there are a few things I’d like to believe are certain. J will be beside me when I wake up tomorrow. My parents will live forever. Someday, I’ll have a job I love and be paid what I’m worth for doing it. My family will visit J and me for Thanksgiving. This time next year, I’ll be married.

All the rest of it? Details.