My Tribe

One evening this past winter I was tired, it was my Friday, and I wanted to go home, snuggle with Maggie Rose. And exhale. It was a crazy week. 

I accepted an invite for a Tribe gathering. A dear friend and former colleague had flown in from California. I wasn’t going to miss hugging her neck and the necks of all my Tribe. (If you don’t know, I’m a hugger. BIG. BEAR. HUGS.)

I love people, even crazy, tacky people. I feel sorry for those crazy, tacky people, and effectively putting them on notice has proven a challenge for me. My boundaries are iffy at times for this reason: some will take advantage of a good heart, good intentions, even when their previous transgressions are still fresh, though in the past. Let me tell you though, it may take a while, a lot of nonsense, but when finally enough is enough, I’m done, finished, the death stare will confirm if indeed the transgressors have gone too far. Cold as ice. No emotion, because I no longer give a damn. Takes a lot, but it can happen. 

I apparently digress...

I walk in to our designated meeting spot and it feels like I’m home. Like California hasn’t been gone forever, like Artsy gal and I never skipped a beat, like Ms. “Let’s cruise to Alaska” has been my friend forever. And then there’s Quiet Colleague, whom I’ve missed terribly. What fun we had, updating one another, the ladies planning a possible cruise, and finally needing to get home before snow plows disappear for the night. 

My Tribe means a lot to me, encouragers, strong women. Something funny, but deeply touching, was when a couple of the ladies told their favorite West stories, from Facebook. They encourage me to continue to write and accept all opportunities. Surreal, to me. I will pursue opportunities, and I will TRY to be still, as needed, when answers are slow coming. 

We exchanged big hugs again and parted ways. You ladies were good for me, much needed. I love you BIG.