Why I Quit My Life in 2020

" Sometimes you have to leave what you know to find out what you know." Matthew McConaughey

In 2020 my husband, Alfredo, received a job offer to manage restaurants amid a global pandemic. The offer was in a rural Colorado town, exactly 12 hours from our current life in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He is always up for a good adventure and was being lured by the vast snow capped mountain ranges and surrounding forest. 

I had more than reservations about this seemingly crazy idea, we had a full life. Tulsa had been our home for 15 years. I co-owned a successful hair salon business of 4+ years. We had 3 small children, owned a home, lived among our family and friends. But the timing of that fateful call was just right. 

We had been through something, all of us. A few months prior to my family's new opportunity the world was hit with the COVID-19 pandemic. Around the globe life was experienced through a pretty frightening lens.  While my business was closed and schools shut down I was able to stay home with my kids. After a week or so the shock of being forced to stay home with all of my children wore off and I began to love it. I leaned into it, teaching, playing, and homemaking. The time spent at home began to feel like a blessing and we all found comfort in each other's presence.

Something happened to me during that quiet time of life. I was able, well perhaps forced, to turn off the noise of the world I had created. It was time to do something scary, it was time to face all the unprocessed emotions of my journey to motherhood. 

I began to peek at my grief, a decade of miscarriages among 3 births. In the 10 years my husband and I had spent forming our family we experienced 7 losses. In my lame attempt to carry on with life, I buried my grief deep along with those unborn wild hearts. I mostly kept quiet about our journey, not wanting to disturb my "inner peace" or the peace of those around me. I do not recommend this course of action. My deepest sorrow of those miscarriages sat internally like snags in the forest. They stood upright decaying while new life grew up around them. One tiny spark could burn down this emotional ecosystem I had created within myself. 

Upon being at home for those weeks I had come to realize that I was completely burnt out with my position in the salon. The thought of returning to the business I had built sent me into small panic and filled me with anxiety. I dreaded it. Eventually we returned to work. I tried to put on a good face for my clients, employees and business partner. But I felt something brewing and I'm sure they felt my storm. 

 Alfredo received a call from an acquaintance in late spring of 2020 offering a job. He hung up and said " What do you think about moving to Colorado?" I closed my eyes and went with my gut. "Yes" The match had been lit. 

The move was exciting, adventurous and really damn hard.

Walden Colorado, population 653 the largest town in the county. Picture Schitt's Creek located in the Glacier carved mountains. The view from anywhere one stands in the town is spectacular, full of awe. To be a true local here takes grit and a helpful heart.

We first lived in a log cabin 20 minutes outside town. The summer was warm and nature was lush. Alfredo was at work most of the time and I was thrown into isolation (plus 3 kids) with a postcard backdrop.   

I lived outside of every comfort zone. I experienced grief and grappled at who I was in that world.  The days were long with 3 little children also out of their comfort zone. My husband was often at work. With no agenda set before me our days slowly unfolded. The kids and I would load up and drive around looking at the abundant wildlife. We explored the mountain towns surrounding us. When the weather was bad as it often was we stayed inside. We put a mattress at the bottom of the stairs and made indoor cardboard sleds, built couch forts and pipe cleaner crowns. In between the fun, the new, and the entertaining I cried. I cried in the shower, after my husband went to work, late at night when the kids were asleep in their beds. My emotions sat so juxtaposed that sometimes I wondered if I was experiencing Bipolar Disorder. It was a confusing year for me. My family endured me at what felt like my worst. Little by little a shift took place. I baked, I crafted and created a new world around me and my family. Through all the hard times I struggled, I found so much comfort in my family, in the awe inspiring landscape around me and in the community of that little town.

I didn't know at the time why my soul was screaming yes to this crazy change of life. Looking back with rose tinted glasses I was granted the time to quiet the outside world and begin to heal from the trauma I so desperately tried to bury. The idea of Wild Hearts 7 was formed while living in that rugged land.  Crafting became my therapy. Creating something everyday to enhance the beauty of the world around me gave me so much joy. Moving our family to rural Colorado for a year, started out as an adventure and led to my journey of healing. Now back in Oklahoma we are planting new roots, I continue to work on my mental health and we are laying a new foundation for our family. 

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