Today I decided to look for a photo of myself to post. Ok, a lot of days I try this only to find nothing and not post at all. Why? Because the image of myself does not match what I see or want to portray. It doesn’t portray the image I could curate. At the same time if I did this I could lose my soul.

What ever happened to people with pores on photos, lines, real lines not ai lines? Freckles. Gorgeous freckles and birthmarks. Remember those? To see the skin tone? Real people. Online that is. Or maybe we don’t want to see that? That is the scary truth.

How much time do we really spend online and how are those images affecting us? Most of us do in some form or the other. Are we really looking at people and listening to them or are we distracted to with the phone and images? The thing is, these images may not be real. Yet our minds are getting more used to this.

I miss seeing what is real and feeling. I remember my mom. As a child I would trace lines down her arm. She had a white circular scar that would get lighter in the summer. Her skin was so soft and felt slightly cool to the touch even in the summer. Her hands had visible veins, I would hold her hand and study her unique web of veins. Her diamond ring that would cast light in the afternoon sun and our cat would chase it.

My mind took pictures and I wanted to save those moments. Those were the hands I knew someday I would long to see again. I knew that and I wanted to keep that etched in my mind forever.

Knowing that, I want to see a photo of myself not looking self conscious, one my son will remember when I am gone. One that is saying I am happy instead of one that worries if I look heavier or tired.

So much is altered in photography, nature, our selfies, our writing and how we want to be seen.

What is real? I am on a quest for this once again, and yet, I hide parts of myself . I post online to thousands of strangers and maybe 5 will actually read it and maybe one will actually see me.

I will find that photo, unaltered, where I look happy. Would that be enough though ? It’s difficult. I have used face smoothing filters and adusted lighting. I feel like I look like an alien next to those poreless photos, that are generated and I stand out. In reality they are the aliens.

I can put my photo out there among the generated photos, and know it is me. I will not judge myself against these imanges I see.

I will look at my skin, and other’s imperfections inside and know that is what is truly beautiful. As beautiful as the veins on a tree leaf and grains of sand shimmering on the beach.

Real, true and remembered.

I vow not to blend in and be truly me. This sounds so good right? I will be able to stand out among the poreless online, look down from this retangle and see life in front of me.

Vacation time starts now and time is not waiting for me.

Why does June feel like a sad off month? It’s a start to my favorite season and a prelude to my favorite month.

It feels like a portal and a liminal space as I try to find my footing once again.

Graduations, last days of school, maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s something deeper

Is it the anniversary of deaths, my own miscarriage many years ago, the death of my father-in-law, my own father’s terminal illness diagnosis, death of pets? Was it the camp I dreaded after school was over. The religious camp that was fire and brim stone that felt cold and unfamiliar to little Jane?

Is it just that it’s the end to another year and a reminder of the passage of time. There is a disorientation and you wonder what is next, while at the same time clinging on to the old.

Maybe I shouldn’t rush through these times.. I can grieve. I will eventually move on. The sun shines through the clouds and I can see areas of blue. Oceans of change. Summer.

I will say goodbye to this stage of life, when I’m ready. My body knows when.

It reminds me that you have to say goodbye before saying hello. New beginnings start after a loss and it doesn’t matter how small.

Photos and writing by: Jane Deegan

Eye on my soul

a bright light shone

no longer hiding

discovered

words recovered

that were

reflected

back from me

Will I ever see

who is truly me?

Changing

constantly rearranging

undercover

never to rediscover

so many years

in the dark

but the light

it hit a spark

and I could see

exactly what scared me

The light shone

shadows were gone

nowhere to hide

what was inside

Who am I?

I think I saw a glimmer there

So I asked myself,

What did I believe

was never ok

with me?

Was it my

curiosity

testing limits

questioning

determination

energy

talking too much

or

not enough

sensitivity

creativity?

Didn’t I know

they set me apart?

Some of those things

did not fit into

the narrow box

that was never set by me

So I hid them

and became

what I thought

the world wanted to see

Can I finally be me

or will my shadow

run back to me?

I want to hike

through old ruins

across sand dunes

climbing rocks

up so high

to the sky

feeling power

legs strong

reaching the top

a triumphant song

There is something strange but wonderful, when you sleep all night. I also feel like there is a loss of time, where I did not control it. Yet here I am and the world didn’t fall apart.

It is summer pet sitting season and my husband and I both have aching backs. My husband was so kind to massage my painful back for a little bit last evening. I promised him I would work on his shoulders when he got home from pet sitting. Feeling relaxed, I sat on the couch with a heating pad and watched an episode of House Hunters and drifted off to sleep. I ended up sleeping from 8:30 pm to 12 am. I missed tv time with my husband. I missed a sunset. I missed his pet sitting story. I missed scrolling mindlessly on my phone. I missed my evening workout. Yet, the world went on without me. I then went to bed at 12:30 am and woke up at 6:30 am. No waking up every hour, like I have been for the past few weeks. I slept.

All of that made me aware of how I feel the need to control everything, even while asleep. I have been feeling like I relax for a moment, everything will fall apart. It didn’t though.

I am still here and those hours are gone that I could not control. Hypervigilance. Fight or flight. I have been in that state far too long.

I started this morning feeling slightly disoriented, yet peaceful. There was an odd sense of the loss of time. While sitting in our sunroom drinking coffee, I noticed a shadow moving. I was surprised to see it was myself. My hair looked wavy and disheveled. As I slept, my hair returned to it’s natural state and I had no control over that either. Maybe the things we can’t control will become beautiful in their own way. Maybe they don’t need me to control them and I can let them be.

When I sat outside with my coffee. I felt it all. The morning breeze on my shoulders and the sound of birds chirping above. I decided to get my phone to take a few photos. A mistake. When I opened my phone there was a barrage of texts, some from our pet sitting contractors and others from clients. I occurred to me that no one was asking “How are you Jane?” and if they did, they were asking for something. Of course having a business that is expected. Outside of business, reality hit. When does anyone check in, just to check in?

I found myself getting ready to answer a message and stopped short when I noticed it was only 7:10 am on a Saturday. NO! I didn’t have breakfast yet and none of them were emergencies. I caught myself chewing on the inside of my mouth. It’s something that I do when stressed, and I think it is permanently scarred now.

It’s another signal to myself to stop.

I can wait to answer them. It’s ok to enjoy this quiet morning and I try to tell myself that. Why? Part of it is the feeling of being needed and the other is feeling that I need to be in control. What about me? When will I know my worth isn’t about being needed and the constant need to prove myself. It’s almost like I have to prove those old voices, from so long ago, that were hurtful. Those voices that told me I was not enough, so long ago have now become my own.

I realized I have been in chronic fight or flight mode. It is showing up in the panic attacks I have while drifting off to sleep during these past few months. It is also apparent in how I pick up my phone mindlessly to scroll when I want to escape pain. Grief. Stress. Worry. They are overwhelming. I don’t need to handle them alone either.

It’s June in the pet sitting business. The past few weeks have been challenging at best. I have a pet sitter that needed to step back unfortunately. Now I need to figure out a busy summer schedule. There have been computer issues that have affected my business and sanity on top of it all.

So how am I going to end this post? I don’t know. I guess that’s ok too.

I want to stay in the moment, but I know it will fade. I can meditate, do yoga and do self affirmations. They only work so much.

It sometimes takes your body to succumb to exhaustion and uninterrupted sleep to realize that the world went on with out you.

Why is it so difficult to let go and rest? I will end this as a question, because I know this will come around again. I am the only one that can give myself permission to.

The bar

it seemed so far

she moved the posts higher

so much to inspire

Maybe a little more

this time she would be sure

If I do one more thing

the peace it will bring

So, she kept trying

her brain lying

saying she would be enough

if the roads were rough

Maybe if I reach it now

I will finally learn how

Yet the posts

seemed further away

as she traveled

further

from herself

every day.

I wrote a post the morning after my son’s graduation, actually it was scribbled in my notebook. It wasn’t a graduation post, it was more like observations. That post will have to wait for another day. Maybe.

How do I feel now as a mom of a high school graduate? To be honest, right now I’m feeling sadness of the passage of time. Yet, I am proud of our son at the same time. More than words can say.

My son and his good friend created the senior class video. They were recognized at graduation and it was shown on the large screens of the arena where the graduation was held. The video started out with a giant analog clock and the sound of of it’s ticking from the song “Time” by Pink Floyd.

When I first watched the video on the big screen, I was in awe. I was of course looking for our son in the video clips. The video began with clips from their freshman years and faded into the senior year along with the music becoming slower and more sentimental. The video ended with the image of the giant analog clock and ticking filled the air. Powerful!

Part of me, the one that wanted to be noticed, wondered if the production of this video was noticed as much as the “jocks” have been at sporting events. It’s an old wound of mine. I know. I also know this video will stand the passage of time.

I was happy to see they covered all of the talents in their high school: band, school plays, ordinary moments walking down the hall, lunches in the cafeteria, tv news team, school field trips, various clubs all for a class of 500 graduates and they tried to capture them all.

As a proud mom I watched the video again with my husband the next day. We marveled at how well it was choreographed, and how seamless it was created.

Yesterday, I watched it again and it hit differently. I saw the clock in the beginning of the video and felt a haunting ache of how the hands turned back so quickly. It opened to the energy of freshman year all the way through to the senior year. There was a sentimentality to the senior year. Our son was captured signing his name on a special screen allowing the viewer to see their faces as well as there signature. It was one of the last video clips shown. The image faded with the sound of the ticking of the giant analog clock. Powerful. It also gut punched me. Time. Where does it go?

I though of the future of the students. No one knows what will really happen or the joys and hardships they will all face. I wondered who will attend their 60th class reunion or those who’s time will be cut unexpectedly short. Who will be the ones that will succeed by the world’s standard and the ones who will struggle every day.

The only thing that they all have in common is they will experience the ups and downs of life. They all will have moments of joy, sadness, struggles, uncertainty, grief and excitement. Some will find love. Some may never. They will all have their own path after high school and will be surprised it is not a straight line. Some will show up at their own child’s graduation, 25 or 30 years later and wonder where time went. The jocks may have a child with special needs on the graduation floor. The prom queen may be a single mom who keeps smiling but feels like she is dying inside. The shy child could be a mentor to many and own his own corporation. The star athlete could walk with a limp and painfully realize that she is human.

We never know what is in store for us. I guess it doesn’t matter, yet it does. “Live in the present”. They say it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. I try and yet I can’t ignore the passage of time. It still seemed like 5 minutes ago our son started Kindergarten and 10 minutes from when I graduated high school.

So here I am on a cloudy June morning and I am wondering what’s next. I guess life is like that on a Monday morning, but this one hits more. I desperately want to sit in the moment and I am afraid I won’t be able to. It is too much pressure sometimes to feel like we have to live in the moments. Time. It is like sand that slips through our fingers and we aren’t able to grasp it all before it slips away.

Questions:

Do you remember your high school graduation? What were your plans for the future back then?

How have you changed since high school? What was your biggest surprise about life?

Preface

May 2021

She fumbled with the keys as she neared her apartment. Damn! Why didn’t she agree to have security walk her to her door? There had been someone following her all night, in the shadows, but every time she looked around no one was there.

“I’m just paranoid,” she whispered out loud. Finally, the door unlocked. She leaned against the closed door relieved. Cool air hit her face.

That’s odd, she thought. Why would I have the air conditioner cranked up on a chilly night in May? She flicked on the light and wandered down the hall to check on the thermostat.

“Sixty degrees!” she said to her spacious apartment. It had to be Steve, the man she was seeing. He was always messing with that. Shaking her head she started to rehearse what she would say to him when she felt a gloved hand grip her shoulder. She tried to scream, but a towel with a putrid smell was stuffed in her face.

She tried to locate the smell before it all went black.

Chapter 1

August 2024

Marissa’s heart stopped as she read the latest comment on her blog post. Sinking into her bed she stared at her phone and read it again.

“Beautiful girl, you are dangerous. But not to me. I have my woman. I write about beautiful women like you. Nothing will take me from her, not even you.”

This had to be the creepiest comment yet.

She looked at her photo. It was one of herself on her husband’s boat. Her wavy blonde hair was blowing in the breeze. It was an unfiltered photo that showed uneven skin tone and the hints of crinkles by her blue eyes.

She looked like a mom on vacation. Which she was! She thought her looks were slightly elevated above average on a good day. There was nothing “dangerous” except maybe that she looked like she would fall off the boat.

Would this warrant a delete or a block? She wondered. It probably was a bot or a scammer. There was a link to his other writing about other women. She knew better than to click on the link, but she was curious. Maybe she would Google that later. Her finger hovered over the block bar, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. She didn’t leave a comment either. Marissa refused to engage with a troll. She shrugged and put her laptop back on her desk. She was distracted from her part-time job as a freelance writer, and now it was time for her “real job” and her shift started in less than an hour.

Barnabas (Barney) Blevins was bored. He liked to go on different social media platforms and “shake things up.” Sometimes politically, other times just to disagree and piss people off. He had been kicked off of X, Facebook and Instagram. The other day he found a writers and artists platform called Scripted. In his sixty-eight years he never saw such nonsense, yet it was a perfect place to hang out and troll. The bleeding hearts, the advocates and all of their freaking new age vulnerability. It could be fun for him. Any interaction was better than none.

He did have his book of Barnabas that he was working on. It was a message that the world needed to see. There were so many sinners to save. This could be a platform for his writing. His truth.

Barney mindlessly scrolled through his phone. Writers, artists - it was all the same. It was summer. There were girls in low cut tops and bikinis. Whores! What the fuck did this have to do with writing or art? He kept scrolling until he came to a photo of a woman on a boat who had written a short poem.

Something about her instantly captivated him. She was in a modest one-piece bathing suit or was it a tank top? Her blonde hair was mangled by the sea breeze, yet a lighter strand seemed to catch in her mouth. She had white teeth and an overbite. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties from the crinkles around her piercing blue eyes. A smattering of freckles covered the bridge of her nose. Barney decided she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Those tanned airbrushed twenty-year-olds didn’t hold a candle to her.

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He crafted his response to her. He’d let her know her beauty would never captivate him. Barney felt a wave a lust sweep over him. Was she tempting him?

“She will not!” He said aloud. He had his woman, Natalia. This woman on the water would not tempt him from his only love. No one would take him away from his woman. He would take an ice-cold shower, it always worked when he felt sinful. Then he would talk to his woman. Natalia was always there to listen.

Chapter 2

Marissa didn't picture her life like this. She married Tad right out of college. He was graduating law school and preparing for his bar exam when they met. Tad was handsome and a bit of a ladies’ man, but he swore he’d change his ways. She was misguided to think she was the only one for him.

She took a job as a medical assistant at a doctor’s office. Marissa had always been interested in medicine and only got as far as pre-med when he decided they would get married, plus she was three months pregnant. After she had their child she could go to medical school, but it never happened. Maybe someday. Tad swore she was his soulmate, and she was his only one. She desperately wanted to believe that.

They had a small justice of the peace wedding. Her parents didn’t even attend. Tad said true love can’t wait. Plus, her parents were “always in their business” as he would say.

She couldn’t say she didn’t love him. Marissa knew she was the one that loved the most in their marriage.

He swore he was only committed to her. Deep inside she had her doubts.

Tad’s phone buzzed on the table. A quick glance told her the name was Amanda Greer.

Amanda was his therapist. Tad had been going to therapy now for a few months after his dad passed away suddenly. He also lost a court case that involved a celebrity a few years ago, and soon after he spiraled into a deep depression.

He finally agreed to therapy and found a therapist that had experience with grief as well as work stress. She had treated many high-profile clients in the Los Angeles area.

Tad was in a better mood since starting therapy, but more critical of Marissa at the same time. Did he have therapy today? It was only 7 a.m. It was odd his therapist was contacting him this early in the morning. Maybe he needed an appointment changed?

Marissa shrugged. Their son and daughter would be up for school soon, and then another day ahead of her at Dr. Paviks office.

Theodore (Tad) Gibbens eyes caught his reflection in the store front along the boulevard. He pretended to be scanning the merchandise but was sneaking looks at himself. Damn, he still looked good. In great shape, toned and not bad for a man that just turned forty. He wondered if his wife Marissa realized how good she had it. She was married to one of the best-looking men in the Ventura area.

He nodded at a pretty, young brunette that walked past him. She smiled and blushed.

Yeah, she wanted him, they all did. He told himself. Marissa didn’t know the power he had. He was a neglected husband after all. His wife was always too busy with work, the kids and PTA bullshit. What about him and his needs? He always knew there were plenty of woman around to buy into his sad story. Still there was only one that intrigued him more than any other woman.

His phone buzzed with a text alert. His heart leapt. He couldn’t wait to see her.

Peace

How do I find you?

Are you the sovereign one

shining from above?

I thought I knew

maybe I do

somewhere inside

where I hide

When so many years

we were taught to fear

I was so young

when uncertainty begun

How can I find peace again?

Please tell me?

I can find it in life

under the strife

those moments are fleeting

and then I am retreating

Believing what I cannot see

is that the key?

I guess I’ll cling on to it

and see you not as fear

but as love

yet, you are so far above

Faith

it doesn’t happen from sitting in that space

one that felt so cold

fire and brimstone

a lesson that I learned

so long ago

The sun tries to shine

these glimmers of hope I find

I will try

and I have to accept

I may never know why

Written by: Jane Deegan 6/3/26

I was awake 4:30 am today for the third day in a row. Life seems overwhelming right now. My mind is in a maze, and I am going to write and see where it takes me. Writing is therapy for me, and I probably won’t publish this (or maybe I will). Why? Because it’s easier to rant to strangers who may or may not read. Hopefully they will scan my writing at best. Let’s be honest here. Most of us have attention spans of a gnat with constant social media vying for our attention. I am guilty of this myself.

Google Forms were my 4 am worry today. My business seems to be swallowing me up again. All the administrative work is overwhelming at times. I will have to hire out. This will be yet another decision to make. I miss the paper forms and the days I could do 15 pet sitting stops in a day and feel like I was on top of the world. That is sustainable for only so long. Burnout and physical symptoms finally hit me a few years ago. My body whispered until it screamed and stopped me in its tracks.

Dopamine

Part of me wants to blow it all up and escape somewhere because I can’t think straight. What do I do when that happens? I go here to write or scroll online. Looking for that dopamine hit. There is the visceral thinking that now, I will be seen somehow. That little girl inside still aches. I tell myself those dopamine hits will somehow cured me this time, until I need to go back for more. It’s numbing my mind until my brain power will cease to exist. I think it’s happening now.

What do I want to do? Write. Daydream. Write and scroll. Am I living in my head or am I trapped?

Follow your passion they say. Yeah, right! Can I make money from writing? Very little. My writing on Substack isn’t about money, but I think of all of the time I’ve spent writing here. Most of it was for connection, to have a platform for my writing and to tell my story. Maybe to make it understood when I can’t understand it myself half of the time. I have close to 500 posts now, yet where am I? Oh, right. I am being overtaken by slop. We all are.

Blowing it all up

Sometimes I feel like blowing it up (not sure what “it” is) and running away. Not literally though, of course. Then I would still be there with my swirling mind or would I finally have peace? Maybe the moment I put my phone down I will finally find it. My anxiety is what I need to run away from, but it’s there no matter where I go.

My phone and computer are both there calling me. Again. Appointments to make, clients to schedule, and stuff that creeps in. Reels, and all of that slop; and “content” that reminds me that I’m not enough. It’s almost like I’m looking for it to say you are not worthy. Yet, I keep digging deeper into the wound and it bleeds again. It’s like it need “them” to confirm I’m not worthy, not enough and I deserve the self-punishment. I can search all day and never find the answers. I know inside the answers were never there in the first place.

Born to write?

What was I born to do? Write. It’s my passion and has been since I was old enough to put words together. It’s very difficult to make a career from it so I never tried. I worked clerical jobs; I was a hair stylist for over 20 years and now a self-employed pet sitter.

I started on Substack to write to tell my stories, and it consumed me. I’ve had a total of 8 paid subscribes here. Which is 8 more than I ever expected. I have made connections; I have discovered many writers and talent. Now I wonder what is real.

I have sold 75 copies of my book “The Scripted Stalker”. It needs promotion but I don’t know where to start. Marketing. The “m” word. I have written other books I published as well that I can count on one hand with sales per book.

My business that pays the bills seems overwhelming to me right now as it and yet I keep writing. Why? Because I need to? Because this is a midlife crisis? Both?

Unraveling or pivoting?

Am I unraveling or am I morphing into something new? A pivot? (I hate that word). Maybe, I am though.

This is the end of my rant. If you read this far, thanks. If you scanned it, that’s Ok too. Or is it?

Questions:

How many posts do you actually read on Substack or do you hit like randomly? Do you scan and hit like? Gloss over? Listen on audio?

Do you read my work? Do I want to know? I end up listening to many posts here as I drive for work. Then I get pissed off if it’s slop, but I’m driving and I’m stuck listening to it.

I will plant a garden

if only in my mind

with so many colors to find

past the grape vines

with green and white blooms

covering the trellis

like a new

spring dress

Wild flowers

above me tower

yet bring me peace

and my worries cease

I choose to make

the most beautiful bouquet

here today

There is no pain

sunshine instead of rain

It is the sun

myself

and earth

uncharted meadows

wherever I go

God, I want to plant a garden

under the sun

carry barrels of mulch

back and forth

and it wouldn’t feel

like it was too much

I'd make it all look

so beautiful

one plant at a time

I pause under the trees

a breeze caressing me

I gather flowers

and put them in my hair

and relax in the green grass

without a care

I gaze around

there is a new freedom

I just found

the yard will get done

there will always be weeds

and birds to feed

I will rest in the sun

not rush through this day

it is in nature

I will stay.

Written by: Jane Deegan 5/27/26

Photos by: Jane Deegan

*This poem I wrote last year for a war memorial wall at my son’s high school last Veteran’s Day. I though it would be appropriate to honor and remember those whose lives were lost this Memorial Day.*

The memorial wall

standing on this cold day in the fall

Names of so many

lives lost

from so long ago

they were seniors in high school once

Promises ahead

Did they know

their lives would be filled with dread?

Class of 2026

stands around

a future to be found

hopeful faces

soon will be traveling

to so many places

Somewhere inside the school

on a screen

is the class of 2004

are they remembered anymore?

21 years goes so fast

now it is in the past

They were once so young

their lives just had just begun.

Class of 2026

your life is ahead

these moments in time

Days so bright

hold on to them tight

It will soon be

a blip in time

and these days, left behind.

Share

For all that have served our country. Thank you!

November 2025.

By: Jane Deegan

It was a place she’d go to

deep inside

a place to hide

she could be anything

or nothing at all

when she climbed outside of the wall

the flowers bowed

at her feet

silently knowing

she had power

a crown of clover adored her hair

in this world

life was fair

what a dream

so real it seemed

as she roamed

further from home

There he was

standing before her

in the breeze

smiling with ease

by an ocean shelf

she could finally be herself

together they traveled on

matching strides

and shifting tides

moving through

the sands of time

Written by: Jane Deegan

Photos by: Mike and Jane Deegan

I hit the ground running today if only in my mind.

I woke up thinking about medical bills, the calls I had to make and insurance issues to resolve. My mind spun with all of the imagined hassles with that. Then again, it could go smoother than I thought.

Then my business came to mind. There were appointment to schedule, the mental load of running a business, caring for pets and my latest computer issues to resolve.

I also had to check my son's lunch account online and figure out if the funds in the account make it until the end of year . Not happening. It looks like I'd be off by one day. Dang!

Since I was online I continued on and traveled down that rabbit hole. I checked my social media business page, then the click bait posts of unspeakable local news. I can't even. I can't unsee. I wish I could.

“And just like that,” I was stressed before my day began. My coffee was outside on my chair, abandoned, and probably had a bug or two in it.

I demand a restart!

It's never too late to restart the day and I will now. The to do list, problems will always be there. This beautiful morning will soon be over as the heat of the day takes over.

I will try to seize it now, if only for a moment.

My editing on this post will happen later I'm sure.

Happy Wednesday!

My bouquet I picked!

Blank page and new day!

Yes, I am angry. So angry. It’s tearing me up inside and I feel like it has no where to go. I know under the anger it’s really something else like fear, frustration, grief and sadness.

Then there is SHAME.

I know people have it worse. So much worse. I am healthy otherwise. I feel guilty to complain and then I feel shame. When I do this I am discounting my own struggles and loss. The shame I have when I have my husband pick me up in the car because the parking lot isn’t knee friendly. I feel the stares and judgement if only in my mind.

It will be in the mid 90s this week here. Those knee braces aren’t going to be fun, in the heat but I will wear them anyway. I need to. I miss gardening, weeding, all of that.

I want to feel pretty. OK there I said it. I want to feel young. Can’t I still want that? Yet, I feel so old. Slower. Broken. I miss the younger me that could get up and down from the floor with ease. Is that too much to ask?

I will miss walking on the sand this year more than you know.

I now have torn meniscuses on both knees. Horizontal oblique tear which means it has a flap that gets caught in my knee can cause stabbing pains. The tear is degenerative, from arthritis and being naturally hypermobile and active contributed it. Be active they would say my entire life. It doesn’t make sense does it? It’s not fair and it pisses me off.

What’s next?

The orthopedic doctor recommended to trim the meniscus. I will bite the bullet and just do the knee replacement. Right knee first. Yeah, this is (was) the good knee. All my knee compartments are bone on bone or nearing and it only makes sense to get it replaced. The doctor where I got the third opinion from agrees.

I started physical therapy this week. I am hearing now from my physical therapists “at this point” in my treatment plan.

There is only so much I can do and I’ll do that. It doesn’t matter how small. I feel like I am doing something and keeping up strength. Deep inside I think it's still about control. Hope.

Busy summer

I am putting off surgery due to our son’s graduation, the summer pet sitting season and our own vacation.

I had a few moments yesterday where I wondered if I should go to the beach with my family or stay home alone. I can’t walk on the beach or stores with my family and that flattens me. I can sit and eat (what else is there to do). In my body dysmorphic mind I see it as the inevitable “sit, eat and get heavier and grow older still.” Why bother.

Should I be positive? I can't today. I am angry. I’m trying. Today isn't a good day. I wrote down what I could do instead of what I can’t do on vacation. You know what? At this point it didn’t work. I think I still have grief to work through on this. Maybe on another day.

I am an active person who loves to move and this sucks. My job (business) as a pet sitter is self-explanitory and my limited mobility has affected that too.

A piece of advice. Please don’t tell me not to be sad or feel shame. It’s how I feel. It’s grief and yes, there will be days I will struggle with it. What can you do? You can sit beside me and let me know you are on this journey with me. You can validate what I feel. Please don’t judgement, no shame and not trying to fix it. That’s it.

There is denial, anger, depression and bargaining with grief and that includes a loss of mobility. It is real and my reality not yours.

In my 30s. Hiking on rocks in a water fall. No knee pain. No worries. I had no idea how good I had it. Then again if I live to be 80 I could be saying that now.

Kens and Barbies in a row

welcome to the show!

There they are

by the pool

always the most popular in school.

Winning all the awards

prom queens

and kings

and naturally good

at everything

Keep posting

your inclusive hosting

and smiling faces

Would it be the same

if you traded places?

There are some

that struggled

yet they trudge

through every day

unheard in what they say

So many years

hidden tears

sitting alone at lunch

wondering if they are too much

Working hard to get a C

struggling to find

their own identity

Meanwhile

“Look at me.”

your endless successes

are spot lighted everywhere

There needs to be an award for those

who powered through

The one’s that have grown

yet felt unseen

kept trying

when the world felt mean

You are the true heroes

and there should be an award for you

because you climb a mountain every day

even if the world doesn’t see it that way.

It is still difficult

to see that child

It was so hard for me

to look at her

and not feel shame.

I see a girl that felt misunderstood

she did not have supports in place

after experiencing a trauma

and yes

she was scared too

but she kept small

and took the fall

One day

so many birthdays later

I found a photo of myself

I place it next to her

and I noticed

the little girl

didn’t look

scared anymore

I can see

a glimmer of hope

that now shines

in her eyes

and spreads to a smile

across her face

She was always there

it only got buried

deep inside

when she tried

to fit into the box

in a system

that was never meant for her

Little Jane was always a writer! Her words and stories would some day be seen!

In a flash

memories dash

by the sea

as I try to capture

what’s in front of me

I want this moment to last

time moves so fast

a seagull flies

it’s mourning cries

from across the sea

eventually finding me

By: Jane Deegan 5/11/26

My husband and I met 40 years ago this week. Well, sort of! It was the day that led up to a twist of fate that would cause our paths to cross, and we would eventually meet.

This has been updated from it's orgional post in 2024.

If you don’t want to read our sappy love story, I get it. You can go to the end and drop a line or two about how you and your significant other met. I’m nosy ;)

It started on a beautiful spring afternoon

My friend Lisa and I walked to the mall on a beautiful spring afternoon. I’m sure my parents had no idea we walked to the mall, but it was 1986. There were no GPS trackers, and certainly no cell phones back then.

The girl in pink

You were working at the mall record store when you noticed me. Maybe it was my floral jeans and pink sweater that caught your eye? I had no idea that a handsome, college boy with baby blue eyes, thought I stood out in the crowd. I had no idea that you kept looking for “the girl in pink” or that you stepped outside of the store to “get a better look” until later. Our story would’ve ended there. I would’ve been the cute, brunette you saw one Saturday that faded from your mind, but fate had other plans.

Dressed in our finest 80s pleather

It turned out my friend Lisa’s boyfriend Mark was friends with you. You quickly called Mark and wanted to know who I was and if I would go out with you. I asked to see a photo like any teen in the 1980’s would. I thought you were cute, and a “semi-blind” double date was arranged.

The next weekend, we met at the mall and the four of us drove together to get pizza. We connected immediately as we started talking. There was something about you that felt safe and warm. I felt like I knew you my whole life. It’s a connection I can’t explain. You were so different from any guy I ever met. You didn’t brag about yourself. You didn’t flatter me with compliments and lines. In fact, you didn’t really mention anything about my looks until a few dates later. It intrigued me, but I was also starting to wonder if you found me attractive at all! There was something so genuine in your blue eyes and smile. I was hooked!

I wasn't sure if this was going to be just a summer romance, as I was entering my senior year in high school and you went back to college in another town. You made the hour and a half drive almost every weekend to see me! Our friendship and love continued to grow.

Our early years of marriage. We looked like kids, because we were!

A few years later we got married. Still very young and naive. I can’t say it was easy, especially being so young. There were a lot of challenges through the years. Job stress, financial issues, illness, moves, the death of our parents and other family members. There was also a lot of laughter and joy too. But most of all, we our love and passion never faded. We also became parents together 18 years into marriage and that was the biggest joy in our lives.

My loves. Our family

Then and now

My senior prom in 1987 and now 2026

Marriage is not a fairy tale, but true love and being with your soulmate is the best feeling in the world. We are both growing, and changing, and navigating mid-life transitions together. Our love has grown deeper than I thought possible, it’s a rare gift that many never get to experience.

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I love you, Mike . Life gets tough, but let’s keep remembering to laugh together. Let’s keep supporting each other and our dreams. You are my person, and we fit.

Happy anniversary my love!

May 2025

Questions

1. How did you meet your significant other?

2. Was it love at first sight?

Gentle breeze

Lovers tease

Green grass

Memories past

Heartaches

Past mistakes

Warm breeze

A time of ease

Holding on

Before it's gone