Magical Love

Something has happened and I don’t know exactly how or when, to be sure I cannot pinpoint an exact moment, but I am in love.

Here it is Sunday night. My roomies and I are celebrating the National Mac N Cheese by cooking three types of mac n cheese and while one’s is in the oven baking, the other is in the kitchen cooking and there I was hanging upside down from the couch gazing at the strings of thick Christmas light bulbs strung around the ceiling. The soundtrack to the motion picture “The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society” is playing, and this moment is a moment my heart is soaring. The joy is a dance that my heart beats to and my soul thrives on.

I cannot fix upon the moment that I fell in love with my own life, but it’s been in the last year. It’s been gradual and like any relationship, it’s had it’s ups and downs and it’s been hard at times.

The only think I could think about while hanging upside down tonight was just how happy I am. If you had asked me years ago if I believed I could not only be happy but maintain happiness and joy, a positive answer would have been a lie. I am jubilant to have been wrong in my thinking.

In the past 10 months I have dove into a self awareness I did not realize I lacked; I’ve opened my mind to spiritual lessons and grounded lessons; I’ve communicated more about my thoughts, feelings and needs; my inner circle has become an inner circle not that I thought I was supposed to have but instead one that feels right.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have a lot I am looking at and going through. Though I’m happy, I can see where trauma still controls my life and where I stifle my own joy because I am fearful of being overjoyed. The thing is, that is not what this post is about. It’s about my joy in the here and now.

I have fallen head over heels with my life and myself. My journey continues.

I haven’t been posting due to some on going things I have had to keep mum about, but soon, that will be over and I have a physical journey to share here soon.

With Love,




That energy was stuck

And when you asked why

The truth of my need to hide

Made me begin to cry.

That truth left you angry

And with a fierce love in your eyes

You demanded that I remember

That I no longer hide.

That hiding from the world

And hiding from you

Was hiding from me.


Not the End, Just a Transition

Nothing is really ever truly ending for us, we just transition from one thing to the next. Even death is a transition, regardless of what a person believes we are transitioning to whether it be nothingness, a new life, a new dimension, heaven or hell, etc. Here I am facing several transitions at once. I don’t really mind the transition, but I do mind not knowing what is next. The control I crave is nonexistent and to say that I am outside of my comfort zone feels like an under statement.

Here is what I know: Time is not real, we are all connected and shit gets weird from time to time. Okay now that we’ve have moved past that, let’s breakdown what is happening in my 3 dimensional world that has me feeling a bit overwhelmed-ish. A couple of weeks ago a re-org was announced in my business, it’s clear that it will affect my team, but how it will affect us is not yet clear. We won’t have any updates on that until the end of July. I know what I want that resolution to look like, but I’m not sure how it will play out.

Next up, my lease expires July 5th. I cannot justify renewing my lease until I know more about what is happening with my only source of income at this time. The positive here is actually timing, because with my lease ending, and the outcome of the re-org not yet being clear, should I need to massively relocate for work then I can. Another upside to this, is that I have lived for 11 years in Orlando and I was already considering a move to the Space Coast and commuting in for work. This option isn’t entirely out the window, but it is kind of suspended in mid air.

So being that I don’t have the answers I need/ want yet, I have naturally began packing. It’s funny because my sister and I are moving about a month a part from each other. Her lease expires this month and she has only just begun packing, whereas I have already started. We both joked recently that there are two types of people those who pack at the last moment and those who pack excessively early. I started to examine my need to pack early and it really comes down to a couple of things. One- control. I’m super rigid in my packing and labeling method. Ask my best friends, if you ever have to be apart of my packing process, it’s a real struggle for me. Two- The need to run away. A couple of times a year, more so in fall/winter, I get the pressing urge to run away, so being able to move and start someplace new is welcomed.

If I had to identify anything else as a contributing factor to my need to pack about 6 weeks earlier than my move out date, it would be that I’m in need of distraction from the uncomfortable things I have recently done and the stress of things outside of my control. Packing feels like a semi-productive thing to do in order to not focus on the mess that is my life nor the influx of emotions I’ve been feeling. The most productive thing would be to work on my to do list or allow myself to experience my emotions, yet sometimes I’m afraid that the state of overwhelmingness I feel can absolutely drown me.

Clearly I haven’t been writing very much despite my original intent to do so when starting this blog. At this juncture in time I have more drafts of posts than I do actual posts. My apprehension extends from using my real name on this blog and the vulnerability that comes with it. Long ago, I learned the hard way that people will use your words against you, therefore it’s not uncommon for me to write a post and then just walk away from it. Right now, external forces are, whether intentionally or unintentionally, telling me to live without authenticity and to do things that make me cringe internally even if they aren’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. The shitty part about that means it’s closing down my voice, which I’ve been working my ass of to establish.

It’s like a dance, but a slightly frustrating one. I’ll of course continue it, because living authentically is important to me, and right now I just need to enjoy learning the steps I suppose. In the mean time I did realize I was thinking of everything in terms of ending or beginning, but that’s nonsense, because regardless of what happens, I’m transitioning. Whether it is from Orlando to the Space Coast, or from my current role to another role, or it is from this employer to a different employer. They are all just transitions.

With love,


You are the Magic

Darling it’s you

You are the magic of life

Pulling me along and under

Pushing me up and over

It’s you my most darling love

The first thought of the day

The last before my slumber

You never stray too far away

Throughout the course of my day

Yes, I yearn to be next to you

But more than that, love

I want to surround you

The way you surround me

Every sweet flower I smell

Every rain drop that washes my skin

Every bird’s song on the wind I hear

Every time I taste the earth

Every flame I see dance

Every dream I have

It’s always you

I want to surround you

The way you surround me

For my most darling love

You are the magic of life





With Love,



I have been waiting for you

Waiting with bated breath

To see you

In person or in dreams

To hear from you

Electronically or as the voice in my head

I have been waiting for you

I miss you the way I miss me

Why are you silent

What did I do

I’m waiting for you

The thing is

I cannot wait anymore

So much I want to show you

So much I want to share with you

So much I want to learn

So much I want to teach


I cannot wait anymore

I am happy in the here and now

I wait no more.

With love,


What’s in a Name?

At birth – my parents named me Rebecca.

Growing up – many people called me Becki.

In high school – I was known as Bekkah.

At sleep away camp – Just Glo.

In College – Some form of Elizabeth, that was me.

Eventually – Professionally, I was Rebecca.

Today – I named myself Elle.

That my friends, is the simple truth. At birth I was named Rebecca, but family and friends called me Becki. Once I got to high school and learned what “Becky” meant, I went by Bekkah at school and at camp and in youth group, I was known as Glo. My early years in college a new friend insisted I did not look like a Rebecca and instead nick named me Elizabeth. Somehow Elizabeth stuck without me even trying, so most of college I was Liz or Lizzie. In the professional world, I decided to leave the casual world of my nicknames and began going by Rebecca.

I have never really felt like my name was mine. For just over 34 years my first name was Rebecca. My legal name evolved a bit as a child because I was partially adopted. At the time of my adoption in addition to having a new last name, we added in a second middle name. The format of my name was my given name, two middle names that were after family members, and my adoptive surname. The name never felt like it was mine and for most of my adult life I have thought back and forth on legally changing my name.

I wanted to change my full name since I was a teenager, but it wasn’t until the last year or so, I thought heavily about changing my first name to Elizabeth. I looked at the meaning and origin of the name, various spellings of it, the translation to Hebrew and what nicknames I could use. Then about 2 or 3 months ago, I thought to myself to use Elle as a nickname for Elizabeth. Instantly I was in love with the name Elle. Elle is short and to my ear sounds so sweet. Elle is from French and means she.

When I thought Elle, my heart whispered a soft yes and my soul stretched throughout the universe. I read up on the name and that it’s becoming more common now a days, but that older folks may find it silly because Elle is a French pronoun, but I didn’t and don’t care. I am a she and Elle is me.

This has been the process that I have been quietly going through. People tend to share judgement without asking and I was afraid if I spoke of it too often then I would jinx myself and it wouldn’t happen. When I filed my petition to the court just a few weeks ago, I could feel the excitement bubbling over within me. I knew I wanted to change my name, but I wasn’t letting myself feel how badly I wanted it. When I filed my petition, I had no choice but to acknowledge the feelings I had been repressing. Tears of joy pooled in my eyes after I completed my steps for my background check to occur. I shared with only 2 friends where I was at in throughout this process. Only they knew when my final hearing was scheduled. I quietly began changing my name on social media and when people asked me my name, I began responding “Elle.”

My final hearing was today. For the last 13 hours and 36 minutes (but who is counting) I have officially been named Elle. When I exited the courtroom, I had to sit for a minute because I was so overcome with emotion that I quietly shed tears of joy.

Life is comprised of moments, some good, some bad, some in between and a few others exceedingly good or bad. Today was full of those exceedingly good moments. The judge granting my name change; the certified copies with my new name and the court official congratulating me; the outpouring of support from friends, family and colleagues; the people who have known me for years already attempting to refer to me as Elle instead of whatever they used to call me; the family members spreading the word that my name is Elle and just the feeling that my name is actually MY name.

The world didn’t stop spinning today when I changed my name, but my heart did smile and my soul did dance. As for me? I wore heels and lipstick, changed my outgoing greeting on my voicemail, took a celebratory selfie and planned a celebratory dinner with friends.

So, hi, my name is Elle, it’s nice to meet you. 🙂

With Love,

E.R.A. (Elle)


Extending my hand, I reached for you,

“come darling, let’s go dance- naked in the rain.”

Your eyebrow raised while you tried to determine how to respond

No was all you said.

Undeterred and hand still extended

“Darling, come dance naked in the rain, you’ll find so much joy.”

With a look that flattened you claimed you do not want joy.

With my eyes closed and my back on my mat

The tears escaped the corners of my eyes

You do not want joy?…

Do you not want air?

Do you fear joy or fear that you are undeserving?

Is it that you feel undeserving and so to protect yourself you do not desire joy?

So many questions went through my mind

But darling, the one thing that sticks-

If you do not want joy

Then you do not want me.

Not wanting joy, is a tragedy.

With Love,