So… What Have I Been Doing for 8 Years?

There’s no way I’ll be able to cover 8 years in one post. And in fact, I hope the activities of my last several years — including how I feel about them — will come out over time, post by post.

But I thought, dear reader, since you and I are both newly back to The LITMO Life, at least an attempt at a quick catch-up to situate us both in my current life is worth it.

A Note to Newcomers

(Side note: one weird thing about this for me is that if you’re reading this and met me in the last few years, you’re brand new — not just to The LITMO Life, but to the fact that I’m a writer. I’ve written for major publications for many years. You’re new to the fact that writing is one of my soul’s callings. And you’re totally new to my life before I was married — which is WILD and honestly, a pertinent place to start our story.)

When I Left The LITMO Life

When I last left The LITMO Life (which I still regret so much), I was newly married — after just 8 weeks of dating — to the (human) love of my life.
Still am.
And he’s still the best man I’ve ever known.

We’ve done a lot of traditional and non-traditional things over the past 8 years.

We bought a house.
We moved states a couple of times.
We built our dream gym.
I had my perfect work setup, handbalancing setup, and reading room.
We made friends. Lost some (more on that later).
Adopted more fur babies.
Lost Sonny. Then Holly. Then Douglas, Alexander, Betty, and Skye.
Fostered (and failed) two rabbits — Florentina and Camilla — who are now our only babies.
Went to music festivals.
Traveled a lot.
Changed jobs a few times.

Returning to Myself (Then Breaking)

I got back to a lot of things I loved when I was young — piano, flute. I added some new ones too — like contortion. I became trilingual. I did a lot of solo travel.

And then… I fell apart.

The Fall

I know falling apart is part of life. It’s happened to me before — in fantastic fashion.
But this time was different.
This time was the worst falling apart I’ve ever done.

I lost my best friend, soulmate, the love of my life, my other half, my twin flame — I lost Holly in September of 2023.
And life was never the same.
Will never be the same.

The falling apart didn’t happen all at once. It’s an ongoing process.
It’s still happening, every day.
And she’s been gone two years.

Something You Should Know

Before I go on, dear reader, I should pause to tell you something:

I’ve always been highly intuitive. Spiritual. A little psychic when it comes to myself — and a lot psychic when it comes to others.

I have visions.
I have a “just knowing” that always — without fail — comes true.

I’ve probably kept that to myself out of fear of judgment. But I’m almost 40 now, and while I’ve always been myself, midlife changes things. You become more you than you’ve ever been. And your tolerance for the world’s bullshit? It goes way down.

So: I knew.
I knew that when she left, I would explode my life.

I always knew.

Burn It Down

I even told my (ex) human best friend (more on him later too):
I knew I’d fall apart emotionally, sure — but I also knew I’d burn down whatever life was left without her.

Jobs.
Relationships.
Friendships.
Everything.

I knew it would be bad.
I just didn’t know the depths.

Hiding and Emerging

After she left, I spent a year and a half hiding.

Hiding inside my husband. Inside my house.
Becoming more of an introvert than I ever thought possible.
Trying to figure out how to live without her.

I didn’t figure it out.

Instead, I did what I knew was coming:
I blew up my life.

The New Chapter

I cleared out our house in Orlando. Put it up for rent (sell? in THIS economy? lol) and started building a life for me.
A life where I could be authentically myself and — if not happy (because happy isn’t possible without her) — at least at peace.

Because this isn’t a dress rehearsal.
And I need to create something I love before I go meet Holly, whenever that may be.

The Life I’m Living Now

If you’ve been here before, or even met me ONCE, none of this will surprise you:
I’m living the most non-traditional life I could have imagined.

I left the States. For real.
I pulled my roots from the States.
I started traveling full-time again. Alone.
I take downtime at my second house in Costa Rica instead of my first house in Orlando.
I speak Spanish now.
I don’t worry about “traditional wife-ing” (definitely more on that later).
I still adore my husband — more than I ever thought possible.
I spend a LOT more time with my parents.
I spend a LOT of time alone.
I am somewhat unmoored — both positively and negatively.
I spent six weeks first in Tulum, now I’m in Buenos Aires.
Next stop: Costa Rica. Then Peru. Australia. New Zealand. Fiji.
After that? No plans.
One certainty: not returning to the States.

Coming Back to My First Love

And I’m back to writing.
Back to one of my very first loves: The LITMO Life.

This was the Reader’s Digest version of the past 8 years — especially the last 6 months — but as I said:
I hope to uncover more and more as The LITMO Life comes back together.

Social Media?

I’m considering getting back on social — mostly because I’ve started to think differently about art, and how it should be shared.

I’ve also been rethinking what (if any) defensible uses for social media exist.
Just considering, though. Because I’ve been deliriously happy without it for the past year.

Still think it’s a scourge. But I digress.

Final Notes

I’m happy to be back.
And I’m happy you’re here.

Last note — a reader caution:

Yes, my writing right now is wind-y, stream-of-consciousness, hard to follow.

And luckily: I don’t care. 😌
(Maybe that’s part of the midlife thing too.)

It’s going to be this way for a while.
Because this isn’t the New York Times.
This is my art. My pure, unadulterated, unedited feelings on (the 2025 version of) paper.

I hope you stay.
But I’ll understand if you just can’t with my bullshit. 😏

See you tomorrow.

The Catch-Up Post