Author: Julie Bielecki

Julie Bieleckihttps://jbaun.wordpress.comA happy ending depends on where, of course, you stop your story. And at any given moment, you have the power to say, "This is not the way the story is going to end." And so that's me- determined to make the good, the bad and the ugly days all part of a tapestry that creates a happy ending. My writing is a glimpse into that story- My struggles, my hopes, my thoughts--I was a teen mom, raised Evangelical and am now Post Evangelical. I was a young widow at 26, and am now a divorced single mom. My life is a messy closet. And if there are moments where you read my stuff and say, "Ahhh- you too? I thought I was the only one." Then my heart will be full. My 3 kids are my best stuff. They make the journey worth the ride. My family is my strength. My faith is both the quiet and confusion of my heart. I'm a lover of God, kindness, running, reading, shopping and beer. Not necessarily in that order. If it has a bow on it, I want it. Make me laugh and we'll always be friends. xo, julie

41 Life Hacks from Halfway

1. Family really is everything. And if you don’t have a great family, friends who feel like family are just as good. Or better.

2. Some friendships don’t last forever. It doesn’t make them any less valid. There are wide and varied reasons for this and that’s okay.

3. Old friends who know the “you” before life happened and still embrace the “new you” now– are a beautiful treasure on your life map. Cherish them.

4. Everybody’s hurting. Everybody’s fighting their own demons. Stop thinking other people’s lives are so much better than yours.

5. Much of life will be hard and difficult. Painful unexpected things will happen. Stop acting so shocked and surprised.

6. “This too shall pass” applies to the good times AND the bad times. Learn to ride the waves like a champ.

7. Stop taking everything so seriously. Seriously.

8. When people show you who they are, believe them.

9. People can love God and still be a jerk. They’re not always mutually exclusive.

10. Happiness is a choice every single day. So is misery. But depression is a whole separate problem. If you truly have depression, get help.

11. You can keep going long after you think you can’t.

12. If your kids have 100 problems but aren’t mean-spirited, relax. They’re gonna turn out just fine.

13. Learn to love yourself and be unapologetically authentic. It gives the people around you permission to do the same.

14. 10,000 things can be wrong in your life, but only a few need to be right for all to be well.

15. Love. True, deep, authentic, romantic love is priceless. And magic. If you have it, be wiling to go to the rails for it.

16. People always say life is short- but it’s also long- so if you don’t like your life, change it.

17. This life is 100% your responsibility. Stop blaming your parents and your past and get out there and make things happen.

18. Some of the sweetest moments in life are the smallest. Keep this in mind when you think you don’t have what it takes (money or creativity or whatever) to keep the people in your life happy.

19. Nice matters. Kindness counts. They cost nothing. Be that person.

20. Don’t hold your kids to a standard you have yet to meet. It’s not fair.

21. Give people way more grace and second chances than they deserve, but know when it’s time to move on.

22. There are some things you simply have no control over, including other people. Decide to be thankful for this instead of frustrated.

23. Teach yourself to laugh and find humor in everything. And then teach this to your kids– because, you know…LIFE.

24. Happiness or success rarely happens in a straight line. It’s ok to zig zag and back track as long as you’re generally stumbling forward.

25. Hug and love on your parents every chance you get. They won’t always be around.

26. If you don’t like the person you’ve become, it’s never too late to change.

27. You may not have just one true calling that will make you happy and completely satisfied. And if you do, it may never be your day job. Pursue it all with passion anyway.

28. Few things will serve you as well and as lasting as self-awareness. Seek it, develop it, cultivate it. High Emotional Intelligence is always in style.

29. Therapy is your friend. Don’t ever be afraid to ask for help and guidance from a trustworthy, skilled and loving person who can help you process life.

30. Sometimes at the end of a really rough day, if the only thing left to say is that you have your health, then you’ve just about got everything you need .

31. There’s no way to be a perfect parent, but there are tons of ways to be a great one. Aim to be great.

32. There isn’t always an answer or an explanation for why things happen the way they do. There is peace in accepting the mystery of life.

33. Read. A lot. It makes you smarter, it develops your vocabulary, and it expands your world view. And smarter is always sexy.

34. Music has incredible power to influence your mood. Use it wisely. Enjoy it immensely.

35. Learn to love spending time by yourself. It gives you room to grow and reflect and change.

36. Stop pretending to like wine if you love beer.

37. Adopt the phrase, “I’m willing to be wrong on this” and mean it.

38. Say “I love you” easily and often. It doesn’t diminish the value of love. It helps it grow exponentially.

39. You’re not always right. Period. Apologize. And if necessary, follow-up with, “How can I make it up to you?”

40. Stop judging other people. People act in a way that makes sense to them and more than likely you have no idea what their life is like in private.

41. Find God and know Him. This will be a messy, muddy, heart-wrenching journey, but it’s worth it.

Like a Boss

So I have a confession to make to all of you beautiful people: Last week when I posted Monday is for Lovers, I was sitting in bed in a 1900 Tequila T-shirt with a cold cup of coffee and a sick child who didn’t want to go to school. I may or may not have cried a few tears as I was falling asleep the night before. I did NOT wake up happy, ready to take Monday as my lover. At 6 AM I had already told Monday to suck it. The misery brain train had left the station: ‘This bad morning will be a bad day leading to a bad week. Everything sucks. I hate my life.’ I know. I KNOW. It escalates quickly, doesn’t it? Because honestly, NONE of that is true. And that’s when I realized I needed to take the reins and boss myself around a little. It was MONDAY, for God’s sake. You know, Monday? Mondays are like a mini New Year’s Day– there’s no place for bad juju! You’ve gotta be a Rock star on Mondays because you’re setting the tone for the rest of the week! You’ve gotta jumpstart the day with energy and good faith and at least PRETEND that amazing things are about to happen. So in that very pathetic moment at 6:24 AM, I knew there was a choice to make. That’s when I opened up my journal app and started to write. I literally said out loud, ” Aahhh, Monday, I’m about to treat you like a lover…” And the rest just followed. I smiled the entire time I was writing, reminding myself with every word that this felt SO much better than cursing the day. So much better than dreading the day. SO much better than choosing to start the week on a low note. I made a decision to choose happy– and the good feelings followed.

I’m not talking about being Suzy Sunshine and Pollyanna and denying the crappy circumstances of the day. Listen kids–I’m SO over and done with pretending that things are okay when they’re not okay. It’s about seeing the crap and deciding to choose happy ANYWAY. It’s about recognizing the choice. You can consciously choose happy as easily as you can choose misery. You’re the boss of your life. You can make it go down however you want. In the midst of that very typical Monday, I sort of kept waiting and hoping for something spectacular to happen since I had worked up such a good vibe. But the actual beauty of it was that in the normality of work, errands, dentist appointments and our regular routine, I felt happy– and so my kids felt happy. I set the tone for my kids and when I’m okay, they’re okay. When I’m okay, they feel safe. When I’m okay, they feel secure. And for kids–those two things equate to happiness. So it’s really REALLY important for me to be okay. So that very normal Monday WAS amazing. When I made a choice to be happy, we all felt good about life– and that’s a brain train I want to keep riding.

Monday is for Lovers

Ahhh, my beautiful Monday. You, my love, are a fresh, new day to begin again. You are a totally smooth and sexy blank slate. You are a gorgeous, lithe white sheet of paper. I GET to have you and I cannot wait. I’m choosing you on purpose. I’m choosing you with passion. I’m choosing you intentionally. And I’m going to breathe you in and love you inside out. Those nights I lie awake dreading your return? So done and over that. Look at me, first-born day of the week- look right into my sparkling green eyes: I love you. I’m consciously going to choose happiness over suffering today so that I can luxuriate in every.delicious.part.of.you. How could I not want you and all that you’re offering? So come hither, Monday. If how you spend your days is how you spend your life– then today– whatever it is, I’m going to make it happen. At the end of it all, I will have no regrets on how I passed the time. And on my last day, instead of a sigh of relief, I will be looking around saying to myself, “I hope this isn’t over just yet.”

Life Lessons from the Kindness of Strangers

Recently during the course of my day, I was in a medical office where the doctor’s name seemed vaguely familiar. As I went about my work I kept tossing the name around in my head and started flipping through my mental files. And then it struck me. Nearly 15 years ago, just a month or two after losing my first husband, my son [Dylan] had been sick and was referred to an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist. As it turned out, he needed to have his adenoids removed. I vividly remember sitting in that doctor’s office crying. I knew the outpatient surgery for Dylan wasn’t serious. It wasn’t that. It was just…everything. I was already feeling fragile and this just felt like too much. Too hard. Too overwhelming. It would be the first major life thing I was going to have to face without my husband by my side. As this young doctor looked at me with compassion and concern, trying to reassure me that my son would be okay, I could no longer hold it together.

“We have no health insurance”, I sobbed through ragged breaths. While my little boy quietly sat next to me, I began to tell this virtual stranger some back story to my tears. “I recently lost my husband and everything hasn’t been sorted out yet.” I told him that I was worried about the cost and details of the surgery. That I was scared. And sad. (And then I apologized profusely for my complete meltdown and tried to pull myself back together…) Without a moment’s delay, he told me that I had nothing to worry about . He went on to say that he would take care of everything, adding that while he could only speak for his own expenses, he would personally talk to the anesthesiologist and the hospital, as well. I was floored. To say I was relieved; touched; comforted: all MAJOR understatements. The kindness of this stranger sustained me that day. Would I have figured it out? Yes. But instead of having to wade through all of that fear and uncertainty, this doctor immediately offered what he could to lighten my load.

It all came rushing back as I stood there in the same office. A nurse walked in and I told her I couldn’t leave without sharing my story. As I described what had happened all those years ago, she didn’t look a bit surprised. “That sounds just like him”, she said. “That’s just how he lives his life.” When she asked my name, I told her it didn’t matter–there was no way he would ever remember. “Oh no!” she answered quickly. “Doctor never forgets these things. They leave an impact on him too.”

This was the second time I would be leaving that office with tears running down my face. This time, the words ‘That’s just how he lives his life’ racing through my mind. And a burning question: What do people say of me? What WILL people say of me? It’s not a question you can answer for yourself. But I want to be known the way this doctor is–for kindness and generosity, compassion and grace. I have a long way to go but I hope I’m on my way, stumbling and failing forwards. We’re all on this crazy ride together–if there’s a way we can make it easier for someone else, let’s do it.

If You’re into Lent…And Even if You’re Not

I know I’m a week late to this party and I know “party” is not the most accurate reference to the season of Lent. But I’ve decided to participate in Author and Blogger Elisabeth Esther’s GENTLE Lent, so I’m cutting myself some slack. This is a beautiful and rather revolutionary concept and you can read more about WHY a Gentle Lent, HERE. The idea is to offer up something simple from your life during the Lenten season, as opposed to a major oppressive forfeiture. I totally get that referring to coffee or sugar as a “major oppressive forfeiture” is dramatic. Don’t be judgy. And I know it’s possible that people far more righteous than I may bristle at the idea– feeling that a small sacrifice is no sacrifice at all and in fact pathetically cheap in light of what Jesus did on the cross for mankind. They are totally allowed to feel this way. Participating in a Gentle Lent is relative to everyone’s individual history and experience. ~~And if they want to give up coffee or sweets and still be their miserables selves suffering away for Jesus, so be it.~~
I am not a good giver-upper. And I don’t really know many people who are. This idea of giving up something on a smaller, gentler scale than say, coffee or beer, is more realistic for me. Translation: I’ll do it. If the purpose of a Lenten fast is to make more space for God, I don’t want to spend the whole season pining for my forbidden fruit. That’s completely counterproductive. If I were giving up coffee I would spend an embarrassing amount of time thinking about how sucky it is, dreaming about coffee and wishing I could have some. And so instead, here is my Gentle Lenten sacrifice…drumroll please: My sad Pandora music stations. I know what you’re thinking–she’s bat shit crazy. No really- you’re thinking can she do it? Will she do it? She has sad Pandora music stations? Well they’re not CALLED that. But I know that’s what they really are for me. Music and lyrics that feed my darker, more contemplative side–music that feeds heartache and painful spaces in my life instead of buoying me towards positivity–or God, for that matter. So. I’m gonna try. It’s only Day One. At first I was already compromising. (I am nothing if not diplomatic with myself) One of my favorite stations is the Indigo Girls. You know, umm, super reflective, soulful lyrics that make you hide all the sharp household objects from yourself? Yeah, that. At first I thought I would just see how it goes and if a trigger song came on, I’d fast forward it. Except that turned out to be many, MANY songs. So I had to switch the station entirely. Truthfully, I have a feeling that even when Lent is over, giving up these sad stations is probably a better choice for me long-term. Well, you know, only if I want to be happy and such.
Bottom line for my Gentle Lent: More Maroon 5 and Disney Pop, less Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles. I feel like Jesus is already proud. Yeah–even of the Disney Pop. Shush.
What about you? If the idea of a Gentle Lent resonates with you, I’d love to hear about it~ Or any of your own Lenten practices for that matter. Leave a comment below~ And truly…be gentle with yourself.

To Believe in Love. Or Not.

On a recent snow day my girls and I had settled in to watch Yours, Mine and Ours–a favorite movie from a few years back. The storyline gets laid out pretty quickly: Widow meets widower, they fall in love, get married, and proceed to merge 18 kids into one very messy blended family. And as the new family bickered and snickered and generally acted ugly toward each other, Emery (age 11), looked at me with mock horror. “Don’t ever do that to us! I don’t want to share a room and do all that!” She was kidding, but not really. And so I laughed and reassured her. “Don’t worry Em. I won’t.” And then, before I could back the truck up, this is what flew out of my mouth:

“I don’t think I ever want to get married again, anyway.” And in witty Emery fashion, she gave me a knowing look and asked, “Too much disappointment?”

I nearly spit out my drink. She knew she was being snarky with her little assessment of my unfortunate marital history (widowed and divorced)– and so I laughed and smiled back.

“Yes. Yes that’s exactly it.”

And that was that. We ate our popcorn and scoffed and marveled at the comical antics of this crazy blended family. (IF ONLY, people! If ONLY blended families were THAT much FUN.)

But that little dialogue stuck with me. Partly because of Emery’s very insightful question that seemed well above her age and maturity level. But MAINLY because of my quick answer and the very clear message I was sending my daughters in that moment:I don’t believe in lasting love. I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t believe in happily ever after. And I certainly don’t want to take THAT risk again. Big. Heavy. Sigh. Oops. (But let’s be honest- married 3 times?? No offense…but no thanks. And I’m not quite sure my mother could survive another marriage with me anyhow. Thanks, Mom. I owe you. Like, in such a big, big way.)

And yet here’s the tricky part. I do believe in those things. Well…I sort of do. Well, I sort of do for other people but just not for me. (Clearly, I’m still working this out) In just about every other area of my life, I am the eternal optimist. I am a glass half-full kinda girl. I believe in silver linings. I look for the bright side. I believe in the sweetness of life and that it somehow eases the bitter. When life throws me a plot twist I’m usually pretty quick to find the positive. I believe that things have a way of working out. Blah, blah, blah. But love…ughhh. Love is a whole different beast. Love has been…hard.

So. I need to do better.

Because it’s not okay with me if my girls think this way.

It’s not okay if I’ve somehow made them afraid of love or relationships or marriage.

It’s not okay if I’ve unintentionally sent the message that love will disappoint you. It will not win. It will not work out. It’s not okay to steal their girlhood dreams of Happily Ever After and Prince Charming and the Knight on the White Horse. I don’t want to tell them to be realistic. I don’t want to tell them there’s no such thing as true and lasting love. And I don’t want them believing it’s not possible for them. And in my heart of hearts, I don’t want to believe it’s not possible for me, either. So. Yeah. There’s that.

‘I asked her if she believed in love, and she smiled and said it was her most elaborate form of self-harm.’ ~Benedict Smith

Ditching The Jeans That Are Too Tight

I have this pair of skinny jeans that I can’t bear to part with, but I’m thinking it’s just about time. And it would also seem that perhaps I am not quite as skinny as I used to be. I LOOOVE these jeans. These jeans have been good to me. When I first got them, they were perfect in every way; the length, the wash of the denim, the perfect spot they sat at my waist. And they were Good Butt jeans too–every girl has a pair. They become kind of irreplaceable. Women of the world, back me up! There are days you actually feel a little panicky over your best jeans and worry about what you’ll wear if something happens to them. Because obviously, there will never be another pair THIS good. Well I’m there. I’m at the crisis point with these jeans. I’ve worn the heck out of them and they are now ragged and patched in certain places and a little too tight–and yet that hasn’t stopped me from wearing them. But it should. Because no matter how much I loved them a few years ago–no matter how good they looked back then– they don’t quite look or fit the same way any more. And I own a zillion other pairs of jeans. So why do I keep wearing the ones that are no longer flattering? Last week they were so tight that when I was leaving the house, I actually thought about throwing another pair of jeans in the car in case they were to rip open while I was out. For the love– GIRLS BE CRAZY! Why not just wear a pair that fits better in the first place?

Because. Because we hate change. Because we love the familiar and habitual things in our lives even when they no longer serve us well. Even when they’re no longer entirely comfortable or flattering. Even when other people are wondering if we checked the mirror before we left the house. (Which I did–only about 57,000 times. And yeah. I still wore the jeans.) And these things are hard to let go of. If we were only talking about skinny jeans that might be okay. But it’s not quite as simple or benign when it comes to bad habits, self-limiting beliefs, toxic relationships, or other self-destructive behaviors. We get used to what we know and we like it, even when it obviously no longer fits.

That day last week was the last time I wore those jeans. I was leaving a restaurant after lunch and promised myself this was it. I literally unbuttoned them on the way home so I could breathe easier. I felt like a busted can of biscuits. (What a loser…I know. But you’ve all done it, so stop being judgy) And here’s the thing- I had made this vow before. But sure enough I would wash the jeans and put them right back in the drawer. And inevitably, when it was time to get dressed, there they were. Right there in front of me. So I kept choosing them. I would like to tell you at this point that I have now thrown them out. But I haven’t just yet. I can’t bring myself to do it. I have this fear that one day I’ll really need them and want them and nothing else will be right. But to my credit, I DID shove them in the back of my closet. They’re no longer right in front of me as a daily option. And so when I open the drawer, I automatically make a better choice. That looks better. That feels better. And I’m quite sure one day soon I’ll ditch them for good and laugh about it- wondering why I held on to them for so long. Because as my mother would so tactfully say, “They’re just not your best.” And if there’s anything I’m after these days, it’s being my best.

Running Through the Pain

This is not a post about running. I mean, it is. But it isn’t. Running is so metaphorical with life that it’s hard to avoid using it as a continual source of inspiration. So many of my blogs formulate while I’m running that it can be hard to disconnect. Unfortunately, I haven’t been running as much lately because I’ve been sidelined with a little injury known as Plantar Fasciitis. This is code for “super intense foot pain especially when you get out of bed in the morning.” If you’ve gone through PF, you feel me right now. Because you remember how totally sucky it is. Thank you for feeling bad. It helps. And so I have spent the past few months on a seesaw of trying to find the balance between resting and running. Trying to manage the pain. Half-heartedly doing some of the prescribed therapies that supposedly help heal and lessen the symptoms of PF. But it’s been super frustrating. I am a horrible patient. And my foot was seriously hurting even when I hadn’t run in over a week! I was getting discouraged. And feeling chubby. And feeling jealous of other runners and runner friends working toward their goals while I sat out. And yet every time I got back out there, the run itself would feel so good–mentally, physically, emotionally–that I got to thinking: Maybe it’s time to just keep running through the pain.

Predictably, this got me thinking about life. And what it means to keep running through the pain. What it means to keep going when you want to quit; when everything feels too hard and hurts too much. And how tough it can be to find the balance between giving yourself tons of slack and tons of grace and time to heal from painful circumstances– or just forcing yourself to get up and get out there, kicking ass and taking names– knowing that life goes on. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into years. Life is happening right now, whether or not you participate. 15 years ago when my first husband was killed in a car accident, the ocean of grief was deep and dark and frightening. Life with two small, now fatherless children seemed utterly insurmountable. My first thought when I woke up every morning and my last thought when I went to bed at night was that I wanted to die. That life was too hard. That I couldn’t face this kind of pain everyday and survive. A year later, that type of thinking had taken its toll. I was only 26. I had a whole lifetime yet to be lived. And so did my kids. Something had to change. This was still my life; this new normal. It made no difference whether or not I chose it, liked it, wanted it, loved it or hated it. I needed to learn to run through the pain.

And so here I am again. In life AND in running. It’s not exactly where I wanted or planned to be at this point. And now I’ve sat around with this injury for a while, really feeling bummed about it. Disappointed and sad. Crying. Lots and lots of crying. But truthfully, I hadn’t really followed the advice I was given BEFORE the injury– and then it took several more weeks and bouts of pain until I decided to follow the NEW advice I was given to heal the injury. (I’m a slow learner. I like to take my time with my mistakes and make them repeatedly. You know, just to be sure.) But when I was out there running today, feeling like a rock star in 45 degrees and sunshine, I decided, once again, it’s time to run through the pain.

Happy Valentine’s Day to Me

Let me start by saying right away that this is not an endorsement for the single life. Or divorce. I’m not a “Love Stinks” kinda girl. So relax. I’ll talk about all of that another day. But not today.

Today is about love.

And for the first time in about 13 years or so, I’ve decided that today is about me. I am alone. Alone, as in, I don’t have a Valentine. I’m not part of a couple. And please, my Evangelical friends, please don’t say Jesus is my Valentine. Or husband. Or any of those other well-meaning but weird things that get tossed around. I have some friends in my circle who hate this holiday. And depending on what your normal V-Day experience usually is, I totally get why any man OR woman WOULD hate it– but honestly, as I was thinking about its impending arrival this year, I’m happy to say, I feel fine. I feel better than fine. I feel good. I feel happy. I feel peaceful. Because the truth is, I think I’ve found the one. And it’s me.

I think I’m the one. And so far, it’s really working out.

Having been both widowed and divorced within the past 15 years…let’s just say there aren’t a lot of Hallmark cards that fit. And somewhere along the way, within these difficult years of survival, I lost myself. I became perhaps overly engrossed in my roles of perfect mother and perfect wife (so I thought) and lost my identity. I take responsibility for this. Nobody DID this to me but me, and nobody is responsible for changing this but me. And that’s exactly what I’m doing now. I’m creating and designing a life that I love. And along the way, I have fallen in love with myself again and the things I love to do. Things I forgot about. Things that feed my soul and spark my brain and light my fire. I’m dating myself. And honestly? I am amazing company. I’m smart. I’m interesting. I’m fun. Sometimes we read, we run, we shop. We work on projects around the house. We lunch. We go to dinner. We have a beer. We catch a movie. That’s right. Just me and myself.

And instead of feeling lonely, I feel alive.

There’s so much love in my life that has nothing to do with being part of a couple. Today and every day is about loving my kids, my parents and the other friends and family I’m surrounded by. In spite of my experiences, I’m still totally a love kinda girl– I got cards. I got flowers. I got chocolate (including some ah-mazing chocolate covered bacon. Swoon.) I feel totally spoiled–not by lovers–just people who love me. And there are a lot. And that doesn’t just make for a Happy Valentine’s Day-that makes for a happy life. And the best part of the love I have in my life now is that it’s constant. It’s not just about a feel-good (or crappy) holiday. The Valentines in my life loved me yesterday and they will love me tomorrow and today just happens to be another day that we spoil each other.

Look around your life today and see all the love. It’s not a loveless day just because you’re not part of a couple. Look in the mirror and admire yourself. Rediscover yourself. Whether you love this day or hate it, I bet you actually don’t have to look that far to find love. I’m looking in the mirror today –and I’m completely smitten.

How do YOU feel about Valentine’s Day, love bugs?

A Letter to My 13- Year- Old Self~ A Guest Post from my Daughter, Casey Baun

A Letter to My 13- Year- Old Self~ A Guest Post from my Daughter, Casey Baun.

Truly Julie

"I am mine before I am ever anyone else's."- Ralph Waldo Emerson