Category: General

How A Garden Helped Me Grow

October 16th, 2024

One of the things I’ve always admired, but considered completely out of my realm of possibility, is having a beautiful home garden. Or, more accurately, at least one that I planted and nurtured myself. I did have a gorgeous backyard when I lived in Washington State, but I inherited it like that when I bought the house, and it only stayed that way with the help of consistent bi-monthly visits from a professional gardening service.

I have always been what you would call a “black thumb” when it comes to gardening. Not only do I have a history of epic fails with planting anything in the ground, but I may as well be the Grim Reaper of maintaining potted plants. Suffice it to say that members of the plant family have rarely survived, much less thrived, when left in my care. The only exception was one particular little succulent, given to me by my best friend, Erin, a few years ago.

Only a couple of inches tall, in a tiny terracotta pot, it was an adorable little plant. Knowing my complete lack of ability to keep green things alive, I had no idea why Erin gave it to me, but she said all I had to do was water it occasionally – other than that, just leave it alone.

Unlike me, Erin has always been a plant whisper, so I trusted her instructions. She has a thriving collection of beautiful potted plants all around her house, and she’s gifted with an inherent talent for bringing struggling and abandoned plants back from the edge of death and turning them into flourishing life forms once again. Determined not to let her down, I placed the succulent on my kitchen windowsill for optimal light and religiously watered it once every couple of weeks.

This routine went on for at least 6-8 months. The only thing I ever did with the plant was add a few drops of water every now and then, and to my surprise the little guy seemed to be thriving. I noticed the plant wasn’t really growing at all, but I had read that cacti and succulents often grow very slowly, and it could take up to a year to see much of a difference. To my delight, the plant maintained a healthy green color, and it never seemed to show even a hint of distress. I suppose that should have been my first clue that something was very wrong.

I can’t remember exactly how I found out the plant was fake. I think Erin and I were on the phone, and I was standing in my kitchen when I happened to mention to her that I was so proud of myself that the succulent hadn’t died yet. She got quiet for a second and said, “Honey, you know that it’s not a real plant, right?”

What? What was she talking about? Of course, it was a real plant. Don’t be absurd. I think I’m smart enough to tell the difference between a fake plant and a real one.

Well, apparently not. I picked it up off the windowsill and poked at the dirt in the pot. Clearly, I had never touched it before because it wasn’t “dirt,” it was some kind of brown cement. I pulled on one of the fleshy leaves and found out they weren’t “fleshy” at all. They were plastic. Yes, I had been watering a fake succulent for over half a year without ever realizing it was a FUCKING FAKE PLANT… Pretty much sums up my plant expertise right there.

After I got over my initial disappointment and embarrassment, we both broke out in a fit of laughter. Erin explained that she’d given me the plant as a way to try and boost my self-esteem by showing me that I could keep a plant alive. I guess in a very backwards way it worked. I had honestly felt proud of myself when I believed it was a real plant, and it was still “alive” after being in my care for over 6 months.

To this day, we still laugh about the little fake succulent, and I even brought it with me to the Czech Republic because every time I look at it, I smile and think of her. My plastic starter plant is currently sitting on a shelf in my office, right next to a real live actual houseplant that is indeed thriving.

Which brings me to the point of this story. Living in the Czech Republic for the past year, I’ve learned a lot of new and surprising things about myself, one of which is that I love gardening and taking care of plants.

It all started when The Husband and I were looking for a place to rent during our first month here, and I was losing my mind from having been stuck in a hotel room for a month with a stressed out, frightened, 100 lb Newfoundland and 6 extra-large suitcases. Not only was I going stir crazy and turning into a basket case, but so was my dog, Millie.

Millie had never experienced stairs, elevators, crowded streets, public transportation, or really anything outside of the quiet calm of the rural Texas panhandle. And because we had no time to acclimate her to any of it beforehand, she was thrown to the fire, and it was a nightmare. She was completely freaked out at the newness and chaos of it all, and just taking her outside to go to the bathroom while we were living at the hotel was a major feat every day.

I was so stressed about the whole thing that I wasn’t open to embracing the full European experience of living in a flat above a storefront in the middle of the city, especially with a large dog. No, I was adamant that we needed a house with a yard in a residential area where there was peace and quiet and lots of grass for Millie. Unlike the many dogs I saw people walking throughout the busy city streets, I wasn’t going to have her taking a shit on the sidewalk because there’s no grass anywhere or going through the daily trauma of trying to coax her up and down several flights of stairs. A private yard was my non-negotiable in finding a place to live.

However, finding a house with a yard, as expats with no proof of residency at the time (an entirely different story), and a large dog, proved to be difficult, and our options were rather limited. So, when we had the opportunity to interview with the owners of a large house within our budget, in what seemed like a decent neighborhood, we jumped at the chance.

I am not exaggerating when I say that the interview lasted over an hour, and we didn’t understand 90% of what was happening. Most of the time, the owners of the house were speaking to each other in Korean or arguing in Czech with their lawyer / realtor. Occasionally, the lawyer / realtor would turn to us and start talking very animatedly in Czech, while The Husband and I just sat there smiling and nodding, eyes wide with confusion. Our English-speaking realtor was unable to be at the meeting, but fortunately the son of the owner spoke English and did the translating for his mother when they weren’t all seemingly arguing with each other.

One of the questions she had was whether we would take care of the garden because they wanted to rent the house to someone who would handle the maintenance without needing to hire a gardener. By that point, I was just desperate to get out of the hotel, so I lied and said that I loved gardening, and I would absolutely take care of the yard. I think I even mentioned that I had almost 2 acres of property back in Texas that I “took care of,” leaving out the fact that the place where I live has no trees, minimal grass, and the only things that grow in my backyard are weeds.

My answer seemed to please her, and her son told me that I had free reign to plant whatever herbs, flowers, or other plants I wanted to, as long as I took care of the garden. I smiled and confidently said, “Yes, of course!” while silently panicking inside at the thought of having to learn how to properly maintain a garden.

Gardening is an important part of Czech culture, and it’s one of the many things I’ve come to admire and respect about Czech people. Just like with their cemeteries, Czech people take a lot of pride in cultivating their gardens, and they are both beautiful and functional. I recently read that more than half of Czech households grow their own food, and it’s considered a tradition deeply rooted in Czech society. Even when people live in flats without gardens, almost everyone I’ve talked to has a family garden plot somewhere nearby or a summer cottage in the forest where they grow fruits, vegetables, and flowers.

When we moved into our house, it was right before the start of winter, so I really didn’t have to do much with the garden, as everything was soon to be frozen from the cold and intermittently covered with snow. So, I decided to try my hand at some indoor plants to get my “green” feet wet, purchasing a low-maintenance ivy houseplant and two succulents.

I made sure to water the houseplant about once a week and the succulents every few weeks, and as stupid as it sounds, I often talked to my new plants and said things like “hello beautiful” when walking into my office and seeing them on my bookshelf and windowsill. Within a few months, I noticed they were all growing and seemed to be pretty happy plants. And this really excited me. To my surprise, not only was I keeping plants alive, but I was actually enjoying the process.

So, when spring rolled around, I decided to take the big leap of planting some new growth in the garden. With the help of my Czech friend Alena and Google Translate, we went to the local garden center, where I bought 3 rose bushes, 10 lavender plants, and 2 raspberry bushes. Alena showed me what kind of soil to use, how to break up the ground for planting, how to properly space the plants for optimal growth, and how often to water them. After that, I was on my own to sink or swim with the task of cultivating a garden.

For the next few months, I watered my new plants according to the weather patterns, and once a week I pulled the weeds that were quickly sprouting between the lavender and raspberry bushes. I also took on maintaining the rest of the garden with an attitude of zest and purpose, cutting back the existing trees when they started to get overgrown, trimming the grass around the edges of the planter area, and pulling weeds from the cracks between the pavement stones in the driveway.

Despite the pain in my lower back from bending over for hours tending to the garden, and the scratches all over my arms and legs from the prickly weeds that were constantly trying to take over my flower beds, I discovered that I found gardening to be calming and peaceful. I’ve heard the term “green therapy,” and I’ve read about the mental health benefits of working with plants, but I figured it was kind of like the whole “runner’s high” concept, which is something I have never come even remotely close to experiencing, no matter how often I’ve tried to enjoy running. But with gardening, it all clicked, and I realized I was loving every minute of it.

By summertime, my efforts had paid off, and the garden was flourishing with beautiful pink, yellow, and cream-colored roses, lush purple and white lavender, and delicious bright red raspberries that I was eating straight off the bush. To my surprise and delight, I also discovered that most of the trees in our garden here are fruit trees.

Within weeks, there was so much fruit starting to appear that I was in shock. Hundreds of apples, pears, plums, peaches, and tiny little red and yellow fruits I’ve never seen before that look like cherries but taste like mini plums. And the herbs! There is fragrant wild mint growing everywhere in the garden and a huge rosemary bush that’s become my go-to for seasoning when I bake salmon.

It is now mid-October, and while the fruit is long-gone and my rose bushes only have a few buds left, the lavender is still in full bloom and as gorgeous as ever. I know it won’t last, as temperatures have dropped significantly, and winter is fast approaching, but it’s been both a privilege and an honor to see the evolution of life occurring in my garden over the past year.

Every day I am in awe and amazement at the beauty and resilience of nature, and I am probably even more in awe and amazement at the fact that I had a hand in part of this creation. I managed to not only keep what I planted alive but watch it all grow and flourish over the past 6 months. I can say with pride that I no longer believe I have a black thumb. My indoor plants are still thriving, and as a side note, so is my dog.

Just as I am no longer afraid of gardening, Millie is no longer afraid of stairs, elevators, public transportation, bridges, or crowds of people. In fact, she’s become an incredibly social, outgoing, well-adjusted dog who loves adventure, traveling, meeting new people, and exploring new places. I guess the garden isn’t the only thing that’s experienced positive growth over the past year.

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
A Change in Perspective

September 17th, 2024

A letter to myself (and my readers):

Well, it’s been seven months since you’ve written a blog article. Ouch. Time flies when you’re having fun… Or when you’re making excuses to avoid writing because you’re feeling a total lack of creativity, commitment, and motivation. And you’re telling yourself that you don’t have time for blog articles because you’re “just too busy.” Plus, you’ve shifted your focus to a writing project that you’re super excited to work on with your best friend, and that’s going to be your priority.

Several months go by, and you realize that your goal of wrapping up the writing project within 6 months is completely laughable. You naively thought it would be easy to come up with the perfect content. After all, you love writing, and you’re never at a loss for words. But, as excited as you are about this project, it’s proving to be more difficult than you thought. You’ve trashed more pages than you’ve kept, and lately you’re not making much headway at all. Frankly, you’re getting annoyed and tired of staring at a blank Word document for hours at a time, waiting for inspiration to strike. So, your excitement turns into frustration, and you start to seriously doubt yourself and your abilities. You start to believe that maybe writing isn’t your forte after all. Maybe you should just say “fuck it” and give up.

It wouldn’t be the first time. You’ve given up on several other projects, business ideas, educational courses, and career directions that you convinced yourself you “really wanted” or “needed” over the past few years. And even when you’ve followed through with some of these things, the outcomes have been disappointing and less than fulfilling. Maybe it’s time to just let go of your stupid, stupid dreams.

Because at this point, you don’t even know what your dreams are anymore. Everything you thought you wanted three years ago – or even 10 months ago – it’s mostly shit you could care less about now. The only thing you’ve stayed committed to and consistent with is your podcast. It’s been over two years and 300+ episodes now, and you’re still passionate about being “Unapologetically Outspoken.” And despite everything you just complained about less than a minute ago, you’re also still fully committed to the writing project with your bestie. You’ve just realized that it’s going to take a little more time than you thought, and that’s okay. But aside from these two labors of love, the rest of your interests and desires have completely shifted.

And that would be fine, except that you feel extraordinarily guilty because you’ve poured a lot of money and a lot of time into taking classes and getting certifications in things that no longer interest you. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, you weren’t truly interested in most of them to begin with. You were just grasping at straws to find some kind of concrete direction to take your life in. But nothing you’ve planned or hoped for has worked out the way you thought it would. And ever since you left your law enforcement career four years ago, you’ve been floundering and feeling directionless. Who knew that so much of your identity was wrapped up in being a cop? You never thought you’d be one of “those people.” But, without “the job,” you have no idea who you are or who you’re supposed to be.

You’ve taken countless self-development and mindset courses. You’ve joined the entrepreneurial groups. You’ve tried the mindfulness practices. You’ve said the daily affirmations. You’ve read the books. You’ve watched the YouTube videos. You’ve listened to the podcasts. You feel like you’ve been doing all the “right” things to stay positive and maintain a mindset of success.

You tell yourself to be patient and not allow yourself to succumb to the ever-present feelings of anxiety, worry, stress, panic, and fear about not having a clear direction and not being where you think you should be in life. You know you aren’t a lazy person. You’ve always been incredibly focused and driven, and you’ve accomplished pretty much everything you’ve ever set your mind to. But with nothing significant to show for the past few years, it’s starting to feel like your best days are behind you.

And the truly frustrating part is that in your heart and soul, you know that you are destined to do something special. Something great. There is a pull inside of you that won’t allow you to quit striving for your goals and desires, even if you can’t fully articulate what they are anymore or how they fit into the puzzle of your life. You just have this gut instinct that you are meant for more, so you constantly berate yourself for not knowing what that “something” is. And the more time passes, the more you start to wonder if you ever will.

You feel like the Universe has abandoned you and left you high and dry because all the roads you’ve been trying to force yourself down have become dead ends. And since you don’t know what other direction to take, you cling to the idea of your unrealized goals even tighter because you feel that if you let go of them, you’ll have nothing left. Meanwhile, the Universe keeps putting up more roadblocks, trying to shift your attention to the side streets and detours.

And the craziest part is that you actually love the adventure of taking side streets and detours! Straying off the main road is how you’ve had some of the best experiences of your life. You’ve just been so stubbornly focused on chasing goals lately that you haven’t stopped to take a look around and enjoy where you are instead of stressing out about not knowing where you want to go.

So, you give in and start to explore some of these unfamiliar paths. You’re still not ready to give up on everything you’ve been working towards, but you’re open to some new distractions to take your mind off the fact that you’ve been feeling like a failure. And when you finally open your eyes and start seeing your world from a different perspective, you start to discover some incredible people and opportunities that you never dreamed would come into your life.

Over time, the more you become involved with these people and opportunities, the more you realize they aren’t distractions – they were brought into your life to lead you in a new direction. You start to realize that you are falling in love with the experience of living in the Czech Republic, and it’s changing your perspectives, your interests, your desires, and your dreams in ways you never expected. You have no idea where it’s all heading, but you’re feeling hopeful, excited, and energized for the first time in years.

But what about all the open-ended tasks and projects that you’ve been trying to force yourself to accomplish? Even though you’re enjoying this new path you’ve decided to take, in the back of your mind, the lingering feelings of guilt, worthlessness, and self-doubt remain. You feel like you’re dragging around a heavy weight of obligation to stay committed to stale dreams and goals.

And then one day, you read an award-winning essay from one of the other bloggers you follow, and it resonates with you in a way that’s like an unexpected, yet entirely needed, slap in the face. She writes about aging, expectations, and forgiveness; specifically, forgiving her future self for things she didn’t do or accomplish, for decisions she abandoned, and for choices that she made. Her writing is raw and authentic and self-critical, but in the most beautiful, chaotic, and relatable way. And it makes you realize that you have been wildly and detrimentally critical of yourself, and maybe you need to forgive yourself, too. Not in the future, but now.

For the past few years, you’ve mistakenly believed that you need to do something huge, significant, and groundbreaking to feel accomplished in fulfilling your purpose of making a difference in people’s lives. Over the past year, specifically, you’ve been operating under the assumption that not having the responsibility of a full-time job meant that you had to double down and push harder in your commitment to the projects and ventures you had already started because you felt obligated to turn them into some kind of success story. You were determined that this temporary reprieve of moving overseas for a year a half was destined to be the time for you to get your shit together so that you could be established in a lucrative and viable career by the time you return to the states next year.

And in this singular, narrow-minded focus, you haven’t been paying attention to the fact that you’re already doing some incredible and meaningful things in alignment with your overall vision and purpose. You may not be impacting millions of people the way you wanted to, but in your own unique way, you are changing lives in your community, doing things that make a difference, and being a positive force for good in the world. And isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? Your best friend tries to tell you this all the time, but you’ve been so hard on yourself for not living up to your own expectations that you haven’t been noticing the beauty and the magic that’s been unfolding in the bigger picture of your life. You haven’t been looking at your successes and accomplishments from the right perspective.

So, you decide to forgive yourself for the past few years of beating yourself up about not knowing what career path to take. You decide to forgive yourself for not following through on using the certifications you’ve received from completing the expensive courses and programs that you signed up for. You decide to forgive yourself for not having written the book already. You decide to forgive yourself for the time and energy you’ve spent on shit you don’t really care about. Most importantly, you decide to forgive yourself for not being the version of success that you thought you “should” be by now.

And in this act of forgiveness, you finally show yourself some grace and stop feeling guilty, worthless, and overly critical of yourself. You stop panicking about the future and the unknown. You understand that it’s okay to stop pursuing dreams that no longer hold the same value and importance that they once did. Because the actual purpose and vision behind your dreams hasn’t changed. The dreams themselves are just evolving and growing into something different.

So, you decide to hold onto the idea of having stupid, stupid dreams because you know that dreams really aren’t stupid at all. The only thing stupid is your own self-doubt and lack of trust in yourself and the Universe to show you the way in divine timing. You just need to let go of trying to force shit that you’re not truly passionate about and be open to the signs and opportunities that are guiding you in a new direction.

And when you finally come to this realization and truly accept that you are meant to be exactly where you are right now, even if you don’t know where you’re going, you embrace it as a gift and decide to be fully present in the experience. In doing so, you develop a sense of calm, contentment, and peacefulness that you haven’t felt in a very long time. And it feels good. Really fucking good.

In fact, it feels so good that you get inspired to start the blog back up and share some of your “expat life” experiences. Who cares that this wasn’t the original intention of your platform? The podcast has shifted and grown into something different than it was when you first started it a couple of years ago, so what’s stopping you from taking a different direction with the blog too? You’ve had some cool life-changing experiences over the past few months. Write the shit you want to write, and tell the stories you want to tell. People will either be interested and entertained, or they won’t. Either way it’s okay. You’re okay. In fact, you’re better than okay. You’re doing pretty great right now.

Keep moving forward with this new perspective. You got this.

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
A Social Media Dilemma… Is It Just Me?

February 13th, 2024

You know those people who go on social media to look at other people’s shit, but you rarely see them post anything themselves? No, not the assholes who troll the internet to make shitty comments while hiding behind their phone or computer screen. I’m talking about the people who occasionally get on Facebook or IG or X or (insert your favorite social media platform here) to check out what their friends and family or favorite celebrities / influencers are up to, but they don’t share much of their own content. The people who find value in watching personal development YouTube videos and wonder how the hell the creator came up with the cool ideas and graphics. The people who can’t figure out how to make a duet on TikTok and who never understood the point of SnapChat. Yeah, I’m one of those people. Which, frankly, presents a problem because one of my goals this year is to significantly grow my podcast audience, and it’s kind of difficult to do that without focusing on creating a strong social media presence.

I used to tell myself it was an age thing. Like an old man ranting about the good old days of rotary phones and how he doesn’t understand modern cellphones, I equated my lack of knowledge about posting social media content to the fact that I grew up before it became the primary mode of communication. I’ve allowed this idea to perpetuate by frequently telling myself and others that I’m technologically retarded. But in all honestly, it’s not a lack of knowledge, it’s a lack of interest. I mean, the lack of knowledge is definitely a thing, but I’m not stupid. I could probably learn how to make cool videos and engaging posts if I really wanted to. I guess my point is that I don’t want to. But why?

For a long time, I pretended my aversion to posting on social media was for privacy concerns. Being a cop, I used the excuse that I wanted to keep my life “confidential,” so the only social media platforms I had were Instagram and YouTube. I posted some random pictures on IG throughout the years, but I mostly had it for the hilarious political memes, and YouTube has always been where I follow inspirational mindset and educational content. I didn’t even have a Facebook account until a couple years ago when I was required to create one for a couple of professional mastermind groups I joined.

When I left my law enforcement career and started the blog and podcast, I knew that social media was going to be part of the big picture, but I still shied away from actively creating content. Fortunately, Stephanie is awesome with this stuff, so I left it in her hands to handle the “tech” side of things. For a while, I told myself I just needed to get out of my comfort zone, so I started a project last year where I got on IG and Facebook every week to post a short inspirational video. Initially I was going to put the videos on YouTube as well, but after the first two, I said to myself, “Nah, fuck it. Sending it to my friends and family is good enough…”

I did this project for about 7 or 8 months, and even though it wasn’t necessarily difficult, I dreaded making these videos and had to literally talk myself into it every week, usually putting it off until late Sunday afternoon. I only followed through with it because I had publicly committed to making the videos, and I like to keep my word and honor my commitments. But if I’m being honest with myself, that’s not even true in this situation. I gladly gave up on the project when I was in the process of getting ready to move overseas because I told myself I no longer had time for it. Yet I still made time to get on Zoom with Stephanie and record a podcast three times a week… hmm. Ultimately, I had to call bullshit on myself for my excuses.

When the dust had settled from my chaotic move, I told Stephanie I would start making content for TikTok, so she didn’t have to take on all the responsibility. I posted a couple of very basic videos, and I noticed it was giving me anxiety to even create them, much less post them. I also noticed that I’d occasionally think about posting some cool pictures of my European adventures on IG and Facebook, but these thoughts end up being fleeting, and I always let them pass without any action. I did post a series of pics on my private accounts for friends and family who were asking for updates, but even that made me feel cringey.

So, back to the question of why I’m so adverse to posting on social media. Yes, it’s a major contradiction (very Libra of me, of course) because I have no problem putting myself out there in public with the podcast, and I’m totally comfortable with the fact that our episodes and clips are on multiple social media platforms. In fact, I love it. Same thing goes for the blog, which is easily accessible to the public online and not confined to my “friend” list, like my social media accounts.

Is it because I’m intimidated or sensitive to the haters or afraid of being rejected? Nope, we get plenty of haters with the podcast episodes, and it hasn’t discouraged me one bit. Is it because I’m worried about looking stupid? Nope, I say stupid shit on every podcast episode, consistently mispronouncing names and places, and we don’t edit our episodes, so all my mistakes are out there for the world to see. I’m pretty sure if we did a compilation of my mishaps, it would rival Biden’s. Okay, maybe not quite that bad, but you get my point. So, what the fuck is the problem?

Honestly, I just don’t feel authentic posting solo videos and clips on social media. And since my platform is all about being authentic and standing up for what you believe in, this presents a problem. Yes, I am all about doing “hard things,” and I want to grow my podcast audience, but I also believe the steps I take in this process need to be in alignment with my core values, one of which is authenticity.

I think what it comes down to for me is passion, inspiration, and personal connection. I LOVE co-hosting a podcast. I love the hours of research and preparation and note taking. I never feel like it’s a chore or an obligation, and I love the feeling of empowerment and satisfaction I get from speaking out about the things I believe are important. I have always enjoyed being in leadership roles, and it literally thrills me to be able to inspire other people and encourage them to think independently.

But the key word here is “co-hosting.” My favorite thing about doing the podcast is the conversational aspect. The back and forth with Stephanie. This is what lights me up. This is what feels authentic and “right” for me – engaging one-on-one with another person; not me getting on social media posting videos or pictures of myself. I have total respect for people who enjoy doing this, but I’ve finally figured out that I just don’t. I guess it’s that simple, and I feel relieved to finally be saying it for what it is and not making excuses for why I suck at social media.

Oh, and Stephanie, if you’re reading this, I’m truly sorry for my poor contributions to this area of our partnership. Thank you for doing such a kick-ass job with our TikTok account. You are amazing. I promise I’m going to make it up to you by scheduling some cool podcast guests.

My question for my readers is, am I the only one who feels this way? Are there other creative and outspoken people out there who want to make a positive impact on the world but who just don’t feel authentic posting on social media? Or is it just me…?

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
An American Duty

January 5th, 2024

I could have sworn I just wrote a New Year’s post a couple months ago, but apparently time has flown by because here we are, almost a week into 2024. After the past few months of challenging change and chaos in my own life, things have finally calmed down a bit for me, and I’m settling into a routine. But when I think about the year ahead, I find myself frequently wavering between thoughts of excitement about what I want to achieve this year and an unshakeable sense of dread.

On one hand, I’m feeling highly committed and empowered when it comes to my personal goals. After being in a completely unproductive funk for almost 2 months that resulted in me procrastinating with projects, overindulging in food and alcohol, and falling so far off the wagon with my goals that I don’t even know what direction the fucking wagon went in, I’m ready to stop making excuses to myself, and I’m in a highly focused mindset of discipline and achievement.

Yet, on the other hand, I have this ever-present feeling of uncertainty and anxiety about what this year will bring as we get closer to November, which I believe will be the most important election in the history of our country and a critical defining moment for America’s future. And as much as I’m determined to remain focused on my goals, there is always this little bitch voice in the back of my head that whispers, “Why bother? The world is going to shit. By this time next year, we’ll all be fucked anyway. Screw it. Just have another glass of wine and watch Netflix.”

I guess that’s the thing about having a podcast focused on politics and conspiracy theories (aka the truth) – you can’t hide in your own little bubble of ignorance and say shit like, “I just don’t watch the news.” Because as much as I believe in the concepts of positive thinking, the Law of Attraction, and manifesting what you focus on, I also believe that one of the most important things you can do in this world to be a force for good is to stand up for what’s right and speak out when shit is going south. So, despite the fact that being informed gives me anxiety, I refuse to bury my head in the sand and ignore the realities of all the scary and uncertain shit that’s happening in the world, especially when it comes to the purposeful destruction of America from within by our own government.

Which brings me to the point of this article. If you’ve been following my blog for the past year or so, you’ll know that despite my downward spiral of shitshow fails over the past couple of months, I place a lot of importance on self-development and striving to be the best version of myself, and one of the people I admire and respect most is Andy Frisella. Not only did he inspire me to have the balls to leave my law enforcement career and start publicly speaking out in the first place a few years ago, but he is also my biggest inspiration in terms of developing mental toughness and focusing on personal excellence.

One of the most important things Andy frequently says is, “Personal excellence is the ultimate rebellion” when it comes to countering the culture of mediocrity that our government has been propagating to make everyone complacent, dependent, and weak. I recently saw a great IG post on frisellafans that breaks down what Andy says like this:

“They want you fat. Become fit.

They want you sick. Become healthy.

They want you broke. Build wealth.

They want you silent. Speak up.

They want you apathetic. Care.

They want you stupid. Learn.

They want you unskilled. Acquire real skills.

They want you to hate each other. Love and help each other.

They want you to need them. Take pride in not needing them.

They want you to give up. Never give up.

Honor those that came before you and inspire those coming after you with the life you build.

It’s a duty. An American duty.

Personal excellence is the ultimate rebellion.

You are 100% in control of what needs to happen to restore greatness in this country. Always have been.”

This shit hits home for me hard because I truly believe we all have an obligation to ourselves, each other, and the survival of America to be the best versions of ourselves and not fall prey to the culture of fear and control. And even though I am proud to be “Unapologetically Outspoken,” and I have stayed committed to using my voice to speak out on the podcast, I have been falling short when it comes to personal excellence in several other areas of my life.

So, while I don’t call this a New Year’s Resolution, because I think that concept is set up for failure, I am recommitting to being relentless in the pursuit of my own personal excellence. I can either choose to let my fears about what’s going on in the world paralyze me into inaction, or I can choose to use this knowledge to empower me to take consistent and productive action. I may not be able to control whether our economy crashes, or the next election is stolen, or Biden drags us into WWIII, or AI robots take over humanity, but I sure as fuck can control myself. I can control my thoughts, my feelings, my decisions, my actions, and my behaviors. And if everything does go to shit, I know I will go out swinging as the best version of myself.

Here’s to kicking ass in 2024.

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
Flirting With Minimalism

December 10th, 2023

I am one of those people who likes stuff. If there’s an empty space on a shelf or in a closet or a drawer, I have always felt the need to fill it. Even my windowsills have traditionally been adorned with little knick-knacks and tchotchkes (yes, I had to look up how to spell that word, and yes, I am aware that I sound like my grandma right now by using it). I’m not talking hoarder status, as I’m far too OCD to let things pile up or get too dirty, but I would definitely consider myself to be a collector of sorts. Antiques, tiny dishes, books, magnets, chopsticks, crystals, wine… lots and lots of “stuff” and “things.” That’s not to say I never get rid of anything, but even when I do a little spring cleaning, I somehow inevitably end up replacing whatever I’ve donated or gotten rid of with something new.

If I’m being honest, I guess I do have slight hoarding tendencies when it comes to food and supplies, but I like to think of that as preparation, not hoarding. About 6 years ago, I ended up in a situation where I moved into a new house, and before I had a chance to go grocery shopping, the area was hit with a massive storm. I was snowed in for 5 days by myself, with nothing to eat except a few protein bars, a gas station sandwich, and some bottles of wine. Needless to say, I spent the majority of my time drunk and hungry, but I did get my house unpacked pretty quickly, so that was a plus. However, I am now of the mind that my pantry must always be full “just in case.” One can never have too many jars of almond butter or too many bags of Trader Joes dried mandarin slices on hand…

From a practical standpoint, I also love convenient appliances and gadgets that make life easier, especially when it comes to kitchen items. How does anyone function without a Keurig or a NutriBullet or an electric whisk?? And yes, I can totally rationalize to myself why I need 20 different sizes and shapes of muffin tins and cake pans, even though I continually use the same 2 pans every time I bake. I also make it a point to be well-stocked in terms of personal items. After the insane panic buying during Covid when the shelves were stripped bare and not a spare square of toilet paper was to be found (I still don’t understand the rationale for that), I’ve made it a point to always have multiple quantities of extra necessities on hand in the event of another plandemic.

But aside from wanting to be prepared for an impending food shortage or the collapse of our economy thanks to Bidenomics, I love to collect things because I associate them with memories. It makes me happy to look around my house and see items that represent places I’ve been, experiences I’ve had, and people who are important to me. Sometimes just walking through my front door makes me smile because I’m instantly reminded of things I care about. I am especially proud of my bookshelves and the hundreds of books I’ve collected over the years. I love books the way some women love Louboutin heels.

So, when The Husband got a job offer overseas, and I had to put the majority of my beloved “stuff” and “things” into storage, I will admit I was a little concerned. Once I found out that the few household items we were shipping overseas would take 2-3 months to arrive, that concern turned to anxiety. And the nail in the coffin was when I found out that Amazon doesn’t deliver to the Czech Republic, so I couldn’t just order my favorite MCT oil coffee creamer or probiotic powder or the specific socks I like to wear to the gym. That was when my concern turned to panic. Not only was I going to have to adjust to life without my treadmill and at-home workout equipment, my desktop computer and office setup for my podcast, my 3 closets full of clothes and shoes, and all the little trinkets and memories I love, but on top of that, the convenience of ordering my favorite snacks and personal items was out the window.

I have always been fascinated by people who voluntarily live a minimalist lifestyle, but it was never something I was interested in. Now it was being thrust upon me. During the 3 weeks I spent packing up the house, I became astonished, and frankly a little embarrassed, to realize I have so much crap that I filled almost an entire 8×10 ft storage unit full of totes. Not actual furniture. No, that is being stored elsewhere. Just totes full of “stuff” and “things.”

When we departed for Europe, I was limited to 3 pieces of luggage (technically 4 if you count a suitcase full of dog supplies), along with my carry-on backpack and a purse. So basically, I took the essentials – clothes, shoes, toiletries, vitamins and medicine, and travel appliances. You know, shit you take on vacation. Except this wasn’t a 2-week vacation, it was a 20-month move to another country.

Okay, I know this sounds unnecessarily dramatic. It’s not like I was heading off to live on a remote island where there were no stores and no civilization. But I was also going way out of my comfort zone (literally) in the sense that I was going to be in a long-term situation where I would no longer have access to the specific comforts and conveniences I was used to on a day-to-day basis. It was no big deal for The Husband after 23 years of military life and multiple deployments, but it was definitely a big deal for me. So, I honestly thought I was going to have a difficult time being separated from all the things I’ve grown to treasure and rely on. But surprisingly, I was wrong.

The first month living in a hotel room was a bit rough, especially being in a small space with a 100 lb dog and 6 suitcases taking up half the room, but once we got out of the hotel and settled into our long-term residence, I realized that a minimalist lifestyle really isn’t that bad. Or at least what I define to be minimalist. Our rental came partially furnished with a dining room table and chairs, a couple of couches, a living room cabinet, several wooden bed frames with mattresses, and a couple of desks. Oddly, none of the rooms in the house have closets, but one bedroom does have a decent sized wall cabinet with some shelves and a section for hanging clothes. The house also came with a refrigerator and a small washing machine, so realistically, it was fairly live-in ready in terms of furniture.

That said, we did have to buy the everyday basics – a set of dishes and silverware, bedsheets and pillows, towels, trash cans and trash bags, a broom and dustpan, a few kitchen appliances, a clothes dryer, and a TV. But aside from these items (and a few other small essentials like a pair of scissors and cleaning products), we really haven’t bought much else, except for some winter clothes. It’s been almost 3 months now, living day-to-day with what I consider to be less than I’ve ever lived with before, and surprise, surprise, I’m doing totally okay. In fact, I’m more than okay. I’m actually totally content with what I have.

Do I miss having a home gym setup where I can just walk into the spare room and hop on the treadmill or lift weights? Absolutely. But I found a fairly decent gym in a community center a few miles away, and there’s a bus stop across the street from my house that drops me off within a 20-minute walk to get there. On the days that I don’t go to the gym, I have my Peloton and Les Mills app to do equipment-free workouts in the house.

Do I miss my fancy podcast setup in my office back home with my desktop computer and the professional microphone that was gifted to me by my previous boss at the winery because he thought my sound quality was shit? Sure. But to be honest, it’s actually super convenient to use my laptop and be able to record from a hotel, any room in the house, or wherever there’s WiFi. And my sound quality may not be as good as it was with the microphone, but nobody has complained, so it can’t be that bad either.

Do I miss my Keurig and my kitchen full of convenient appliances? Of course. But we bought a small single-serve Nescafe Dolce Gusto machine that makes awesome cappuccinos and lattes, and I’m shocked to say that I actually love it more than my Keurig. We also bought a small microwave, an electric kettle, and a basic set of cookware. Yes, I miss my crockpot, my Instant Pot, my air fryer, my toaster, my blender, and all my baking accessories, but I’ve realized I can make a kick-ass soup in a stock pot without all the bells and whistles, and I really only need one baking pan.

Do I miss my book collection? Oh yes. True book lovers just can’t compare an e-reader to physically holding a book in your hands… turning the pages… smelling the paper… But my pocket-sized Kindle is actually pretty awesome. I may not be able to walk over to my bookshelves and physically hand-select something from my collection, but I have access to thousands of books online whenever I want something new to read.

Most importantly, do I miss all of the decorative items around my house that remind me of the people I love and the places I’ve been? Definitely. But I brought a few framed pictures with me, along with a couple of my favorite tiny dishes and some other small pieces of memorabilia that make me smile. And I have thousands of pictures on my phone that I can look at when I miss my friends and family. Plus, I’m making new memories while on this adventure, so how cool is that?

I guess the strangest thing for me so far is that I haven’t really even wanted to buy stuff to decorate or fill the house, and I find myself frequently thinking that there’s no reason to needlessly spend money when I’m functioning perfectly fine with less. I did get a couple of tiny cactuses to put on the windowsill, and I still want a crockpot at some point, but it’s not a necessity, and I don’t really feel like I’m missing out on anything. Maybe it’s because I’m only going to be here for a limited period of time, but it’s still an odd sensation to walk into the house every day and actually enjoy how sparse and empty it is.

What’s even more bizarre is that I found out I can still order from Amazon by using the German version because Amazon.de delivers to the Czech Republic, but other than purchasing some carpet pads for the wood stairs in our house to make it easier for Miss Millie to go up and down without slipping, I haven’t bought a fucking thing on Amazon. Not one single thing. Maybe this doesn’t seem like a big deal, but if you know me, it’s borderline shocking. When I lived in the U.S., I was literally ordering shit from Amazon several times a week. I’m pretty sure the UPS driver in my neighborhood thinks I died since he’s not delivering packages to my house anymore. And what’s even more bizarre is that I haven’t even looked on Amazon.de to see if they have the supplements and snacks I was so adamant I couldn’t live without. Why? Because I’ve been just fine without them.

Initially I felt like a minimalist lifestyle was being forced upon me, but now I find it strangely satisfying. There’s something to be said for the freeing feeling of fewer distractions and less clutter. So, does this mean that I’m going to ditch all of my “stuff” and “things” when I get back to the states and have access to everything I put into storage? In all likelihood, fuck no. But for now, I’m going to enjoy this little flirtation with minimalism, and the positive impact it’s having on both my bank account and my mindset. Plus, it sure does make it easier to clean when you don’t have to move a bunch of shit around to dust and vacuum.

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
When Silence Becomes Louder Than a Scream – Reflections on Life Without WiFi

November 11th, 2023

Several months ago, I wrote a blog post about leaning into the quiet. The overall premise of the article was about how sitting in silence every now and then can help you connect to your truth and intuition to find the answers that are already within you but you’re too busy or distracted to acknowledge them. And I still stand by this belief. But what happens when there’s so much quiet that you don’t want to lean into it anymore, and you feel like you’re starting to go crazy being alone with your own thoughts? Because that’s where I was for the past 8 days.

After living in a hotel for almost a month, we moved into our new home a little over a week ago. The first couple of days were a bit challenging with no heat and no hot water, but once we got that figured out, things have been going fairly smoothly, and I’m starting to get into a daily routine. The house itself is huge – 3 stories with 9 rooms and 3 bathrooms, which is way more than 2 people need (and larger than any home I’ve ever lived in), and it’s also a bit dated with old furnishings and oddly painted rooms, but I’m just grateful we found a house to rent within our budget that allowed a large dog, so here we are. And honestly, I’m kind of starting to love it.

It took Miss Millie (who I am now thoroughly convinced is not a purebred Newfie as the breeder claimed, but is instead a Newfie-Retriever mix) a few days to adjust to living with these very scary contraptions called wood stairs, but after getting some carpet pads for the stairs and slowly coaxing her up and down on a leash to show her she wasn’t going to be swallowed alive, she’s adjusted like a champ. Plus, I think she’s pretty happy to have a yard again, even though she’s driving me nuts with her sudden obsession with barking at her reflection and anything else she sees in the floor length windows of the living room, including the leaves that frequently flutter by in the wind.

But as usual, I digress. My point is that I think we are all happy to be out of the hotel and settling into our new home, despite the challenges of learning how to use the heating system and other unfamiliar appliances with confusing Czech instruction manuals. I have never been so out of my element and grateful for the wonders of the internet and Google Translate, as I would be lost here without this technology. So, I guess that’s where this post is headed – the realization of the extent of my reliance and dependence on the internet and WiFi. Because that’s what was missing in my life for the past 8 days up until yesterday. Fucking WiFi.

Before I start sounding like a whiny little bitch, yes, I recognize the “first world problems” tone of this post, but I truly didn’t realize how much of my life revolves around WiFi and the internet until now. Living abroad in a country where I have no friends or family and I don’t know the language has been incredibly eye opening for realizing how much I rely on modern technology. Having WiFi and internet access is how I communicate with my friends and loved ones back home and do FaceTime calls. It’s how I follow the news and do research and connect with Stephanie on Zoom to record podcasts. It’s how I participate in my multitude of online programs and courses. It’s how I stay in a state of gratitude by listening to inspirational podcasts and videos on YouTube. It’s how I entertain myself with reality tv shows on Netflix and Amazon Prime. It’s how I fall asleep every night with my Aura app playing in the background. It’s how I get my workouts in at home with my Peloton and Les Mills apps. It’s how I create and post these blog articles. It’s basically how I connect with the world outside of myself.

Are these all things I can live without? Technically, yes. And to be fair, I have embraced many aspects of the simplistic beauty of a tech-free, vehicle-free life since moving overseas. I take Miss Millie for long walks every day. I’ve reignited my love of reading by sitting down with a book while enjoying my morning coffee instead of watching TV. I spend time exploring my neighborhood and taking in all the amazing architecture. I walk two miles each way several times a week to go to the nearest gym. I stop in local pastry shops and indulge in purchasing a freshly baked treat or a cappuccino that I enjoy while I walk home. And I absolutely LOVE doing all of these things. But one can only walk around the neighborhood for so long. And for the past 8 days, when I returned to the house, I was faced with the overwhelming quiet. The stillness. The maddening silence of life without WiFi. And it was driving me fucking crazy.

So, about 6 days in, I walked to the nearest electronics store and bought myself an old school plug-in AM/FM kitchen radio just to have some background noise to keep me sane. I didn’t even care if the noise was in English or not, but lucky for me, a good portion of the radio stations here play songs in English. It seems the Czechs love early 2000’s techno and one hit wonders from the 80’s / 90’s. Throwbacks from Alice Deejay, Scooter, and Ini Kamoze (“Here Comes the Hotstepper…”) are frequently played, along with a truly terrible dance song I’ve become obsessed with called “Captain Jack” by, you guessed it, Captain Jack. If you love cheesy dance hits, you must look this one up. It’s fucking fantastic. Even better if you watch the video.

But, music musings aside, I think the most significant thing I learned about myself during these 8 days without WiFi has been the stark realization that I’ve been relying on technology and all the activities it enables me to engage in to keep me from going down the rabbit hole of my own mind and confronting my deepest thoughts. And in this new life in a foreign country where I’m by myself 80% of the time, WiFi has so far been the primary thing that has kept me from feeling terribly, terribly alone. Or at least it was for the month we were living in a hotel where I had access to WiFi every day. Of course, I am not discounting Miss Millie. She is my heart and soul and my best companion, and she has been here for me every day, but let’s face it, she’s a dog.

The irony of the situation is that I’ve always been so busy in the past that I’ve had to intentionally make the effort to carve out time when I’ve wanted to lean into the quiet, and now I’m in a position where I’m purposely trying to avoid doing so. But, as always, the Universe will throw a brick at you when you don’t listen to the whispers or even the screams. And my brick came in the form of 8 days of no WiFi, opening the floodgates to a rush of emotions, fears, and insecurities I’ve been suppressing that have now come kicking and screaming to the surface for air. And now that these energies are breathing freely on their own, I can no longer push them back down below the surface. Nor do I think I want to.

Yes, I am aware that I sound like a broken record because I brought up my feelings of dissatisfaction about where I’m at in life right now when I wrote about turning 50 and having a midlife crisis in my last article. I guess it’s fairly obvious I’ve been struggling with the fact that I have no fucking job, my sense of self-worth is suffering, and I feel like I’m contributing nothing and doing nothing of importance or purpose in my life anymore. But I don’t think the depths of how I’m feeling truly hit me until this past week without WiFi.

Being alone with my own thoughts for an extended period of time (if you can call 8 days an extended period of time…) has shown me that not only am I not where I want to be in life, I’m also not truly where I thought I was from a mindset perspective. I am nowhere near as “spiritually evolved” as I thought I was becoming. I guess I convinced myself that if I could just stay busy enough with all these self-development courses and online classes and daily practices, I would feel enlightened and high vibe and happy.

What being forced to lean into the quiet has taught me is that I’m not totally comfortable with the truth of the darkness and chaos and disappointment that exists deep inside my brain when there is no constant chatter and buzz of technology to uplift me or distract me from the circumstances that I am unhappy about or dissatisfied with in my life. And the fact that I’ve been trying to convince myself that I’m at peace and in a state of contentment by distracting myself with all of these things now seems absurdly laughable. Because in the end, you can’t hide from yourself and your own truth. Eventually, it will brutally smack you in the face.

I honestly don’t know where my path is leading right now or where these realizations will take me, but what I do know is that I have a long way to go in becoming the person I want to be. Much longer than I thought. So, I will continue to work on myself, every day, even if I take two steps forward and one step back. And, in typical Libra fashion, I will continue to seek balance in my life. I don’t think I’m quite ready for anything like a week-long silent meditative yoga retreat, but maybe after this experience I’ll rely a little less on the internet and a little more on myself . That is, after I catch up on those missed episodes of 90 Day Fiancé…

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
Over the Hill or Just Making Excuses?

October 26th, 2023

As a kid, I absolutely loved celebrating my birthday. I remember parties at McDonalds, Chuck E. Cheese, Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor, and roller-skating with my friends at the park. Yep, I’m definitely dating myself here as a child of the late 70’s / early 80’s… As an adult, the shine of my birthday started to wear off a bit (except for having cake, of course), and my celebrations were reduced to lunch or dinner with family, friends, or my significant other. I will admit there was one very memorable trip to Vegas with some inanely fun co-workers for my 40^th, but other than that, my birthdays as an adult have been fairly uneventful.

Two weeks ago, I turned 50. The big 5-0… As much as birthdays aren’t a big thing in my life anymore, I feel like 50 is a significant milestone, so my intention was to throw myself a big party. Being the manager of a winery, I had a free venue for the festivities, so it was just a matter of seeing which of my friends and family were up for traveling to the Texas panhandle for the weekend. I even had the perfect dress picked out. But then the opportunity for this unexpected move to Europe came up before my birthday, and the party idea was tanked.

Selfishly, I felt a little disappointed. I had already been cheated out of my wedding reception and honeymoon due to Covid, and, once again, a fancy dress went back into the closet (or in this case, packed up into a box to be stored for the next two years). But, despite my disappointment, the Universe gave me an incredible gift. Not only was I getting to spend my 50^th birthday starting a new life adventure in Europe, but The Husband took me to Austria for the weekend, and I got to do a haunted tour of historic old town Vienna. How could I possibly be disappointed in that?

But back to the concept of being 50… I didn’t think it would be such a mindfuck for me to turn 50, as I was clearly more interested in celebrating this milestone rather than worrying about it. But now that it’s over and the reality of being 50 is settling in, I can’t seem to wrap my brain around it. Several times now, I’ve stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection and thinking, “Holy shit girl, you’re 50 fucking years old.” Even though I want to be in denial, when I look closely enough, all the telltale signs are there. The wrinkles around my eyes. The grey hairs starting to show. The definition starting to fade on my triceps no matter how many pushups I do. I mean, isn’t this the age where people say you’re “over the hill?” Does this mean I should stop shopping in the Juniors section at Ross and Marshalls?

My cousin, who’s a few years older than I am, sent me a happy birthday text, and during the conversation I mentioned that it was kind of surreal to be half a century old. She responded, “Welcome to the club!! I have loved my 50’s so far!! Lots of giving zero FUCKS!!” I guess she has a point there. I do love giving zero fucks. My cousin was in a shitty marriage for two decades that she’s finally free from, she has a great career now, and she’s dating the man of her dreams, so stepping into her 50’s was like a breath of fresh air and a new lease on life. And I suppose I should have that same level of excitement about my own life right now.

If you read my last blog article, I talked about how I’m currently in the very bizarre and unique (at least for me) position of not having a full-time job (or really any job for that matter) for the first time in my adult life, so shouldn’t I be in the mindset of endless possibilities and opportunities in creating my dream life? Shouldn’t I be fucking elated? I finally have the time to fully commit to all the classes and courses I’ve signed up for over the past year and have been half-assing while trying to cram them into a busy schedule. I have time to start writing the book I keep putting off. I have time to focus on creating the business plan I’m constantly tossing around in my mind. I have time to get in solid workouts pretty much every day. So why am I in this borderline depressed state, sitting in a hotel room for the past 3 weeks, watching weird music videos on German MTV, and steadily gaining weight from eating too many crepes every morning and drinking a minimum of 2 glasses of wine every night instead of getting my shit together and moving forward on my dreams?

OMG, am I having a fucking midlife crisis?

When I look back at the opportunities I’ve had and the things I’ve accomplished in my life, I’m not bragging, but I can honestly say I’ve done some pretty cool shit. Or at least what I think is cool shit. I’ve been part of a top alcohol drag racing pit crew in the NHRA. I’ve escorted famous movie stars down the Red Carpet at Hollywood film premieres. I’ve been the first female to be accepted into the boys club at a municipal fire department. I’ve fought wildfires and trained people how to enter burning buildings. I’ve ridden a horse in the world-famous Rose Parade and represented my department on horseback at National Police Week in Washington D.C. I’ve had the privilege of saving multiple lives and teaching others how to do the same. I’ve investigated crazy homicides and given presentations to a room full of high-ranking law enforcement and city government officials. I’ve traveled throughout the world and experienced other countries and cultures. I’ve co-created a podcast where I get to speak out and share my views on freedom every week. The list goes on and on.

So why the fuck am I feeling so down on myself about turning 50? When I sit with this question, I realize it has more to do with my lack of accomplishments over the past 2 years than it does with my actual age. I have no regrets in leaving my law enforcement career and moving to Texas to start a new life, because my life improved exponentially in so many ways, especially in terms of my self-awareness and mental health. But I have these constant nagging feelings of disappointment and frustration that I should be so much further ahead of where I am in my life right now and turning 50 has somehow thrown a spotlight of panic on those feelings.

The questions fill my head like rapid fire. Were the years behind me the best it’s going to get in terms of my career path? Were those career highlights the end of the line and now nothing else will make me feel worthy or accomplished? Am I too old to start over and believe I can have an equally fulfilling career this late in life? Are my goals delusional? Am I destined to be like a middle-aged guy working a mundane job who believes nothing in life will ever be as good as the old days when he was the high school quarterback and prom king? Am I just in a state of self-pity because I’ve spent the past 3 weeks cooped up in a hotel room in a foreign country where the language barrier is more difficult than I thought it would be, things aren’t going the way I expected at all, the situation is out of my control, and I’m going fucking stir crazy? Or is this just a culmination of guilt and shame because I’ve been too fucking scared to fully commit to following my dreams for the past two years, and now I’m blaming it on my age?

Really, the answers to these questions are irrelevant. I’ve taken enough self-development and mindset courses to know what I need to do. It’s just a matter of getting out of my own head and regaining focus. Taking responsibility for my thoughts and actions. Not allowing myself to make lame excuses about being too old to live my dreams. Not giving any fucks about people judging me for my goals or being afraid of failure. Getting back into daily habits of discipline. Living up to my own expectations because I know I can – I’ve done it many times before, and I will do it again. It’s about trusting myself, believing that I’m worthy of the life I say I want for myself, and putting in the work to get there.

Yeah it’s really that simple. It’s just fucking hard sometimes to be honest with myself.

Well, this article certainly took a completely different turn from where I thought it would go when I started writing it. I intended this to be kind of a light and funny take on turning 50, but here we are… I contemplated scratching this blog post altogether, but I know I’m not the only one who’s struggling with dissatisfaction in life right now. Maybe this will resonate with some of my readers and inspire you to ditch your own excuses (age or otherwise) about stepping out of your comfort zone or pursuing your own dreams and goals.

I’ve also decided to use this article as a means of holding myself accountable in being authentic and moving forward with my plans. What better way to stick to my goals than to make a public commitment? So, pinky swear it is. Until next time…

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
A New Chapter…? More Like An Entirely Different Book

October 9th, 2023

I could start off with another apology-esque (yeah, I know that’s not a word, but I thought it sounded fun) explanation for why I haven’t written a blog article lately, but I think this post will speak for itself. I’ve spent the past 2 years trying to figure out what the fuck to do with my life after leaving my law enforcement career, and it’s been a rollercoaster of highs and lows. The freedom has been exhilarating, but the lack of purpose and stability from a career perspective has been terrifying. Who knew it would be so hard to get my shit together in my late 40’s?

I was fortunate and incredibly grateful to land a job with a steady paycheck managing a winery after impulsively leaving a fairly lucrative and solid career when I decided to move to Texas from Washington State, but I quickly discovered I really had no passion for the wine industry (except for drinking it), and I knew that I wasn’t in the job for the long haul. I’ve had the privilege of experiencing the incredibly unique beauty and serenity of the Texas Panhandle for the past two years, but in my soul I know it’s not my forever home. I’ve met some wonderful people, I fulfilled my dream of living on a mini-farm with a couple of goats and a horse, and I found my voice with creating this blog and co-hosting a podcast that I’m truly passionate about and proud of. But ever since I gave up my law enforcement career, I’ve felt an emptiness of purpose, and something has always been missing.

On the outside, I think my life looks pretty awesome, but on the inside I’ve been having an ongoing 2-year panic attack, feeling completely frustrated with myself for not figuring my shit out. For not doing more. For not BEING more. I’ve thrust myself into every possible self-development arena looking for answers, and even though I know I’ve learned a lot and grown in some truly positive ways, it’s like I’ve been experiencing an extended midlife crisis, which was honestly the last thing I ever expected from myself, the girl who always had a plan and then a backup plan in case the original plan failed. I truly (naively) believed it would only take a few months for me to find or create a career that would be even more fulfilling than my 15-years as a cop, but it didn’t happen. Not in 3 months, or 6 months, or a year, or even 2 years. I’ve honestly just been pretty fucking lost.

When I started coaching CrossFit again this past summer, I thought I had found my niche, as it re-ignited my love of teaching fitness. I’ve always had a passion for helping others, so I decided to pursue the possibility of coaching as a career path. In addition to my CrossFit Level 1, I became a Certified Personal Trainer and Nutrition Specialist, and my goal was to create my own health and wellness business mentoring women 50+ in my community. I hadn’t fully hashed out the details, but I felt like I was finally onto something that would give me a renewed sense of purpose and enable me to feel like I was giving back to others. I felt like I finally had a plan.

However, life is full of unexpected twists and turns, and if there’s anything I’ve learned from the past few years of embracing the Law of Attraction concepts and this ongoing self-development journey, it’s that the Universe often puts challenges and opportunities in front of us that we don’t expect. Which is why I’m writing this blog article while sitting in the restaurant of my temporary “residence” at a hotel in the Czech Republic, halfway across the world from my life in Texas. Nope, I sure as fuck didn’t expect this…

As much as I’ve bared my soul on this blog and talked a lot about my personal life, the one thing I haven’t talked much about is my husband. Yes, I do in fact have a husband. I’ve kept him out of the spotlight primarily because he was career military, and similar to the position I was in as a cop, he’s had to keep his mouth shut about politics, so I didn’t want to compromise his choices by dragging him into mine. Plus, he was stationed across the country and went on multiple deployments during the past two years that I’ve been in Texas, so I was basically living by myself anyway. But now that he’s retired after 23 years of serving our country and no longer beholden to the federal government, I feel more comfortable acknowledging his existence. He will herein be referred to as “The Husband” (which is literally how I refer to him in everyday life).

With that said, a few months after The Husband retired, and we were starting to figure out how to settle into the flow of daily life together, he came home from work one day and sheepishly asked me what I thought about him applying for a 2-year contract job in Europe, specifically in the Czech Republic. My initial response was sheer panic, literally throughout my entire body. I was just figuring out what to do with my life, I was happy in Texas, and I wasn’t about to uproot myself and move to Europe or spend more time living apart.

But oddly, in a matter of a few seconds, my body went into a state of complete calm, and my thoughts shifted from “WTF? Hell no…” to “Wait a minute, why the fuck not…?” I had moved to Texas with zero plan, just trusting the Universe that the opportunity was thrown into my life for a reason, so why not have that same faith now? I told The Husband to just apply, and we would see what happens. No sense in putting the cart before the horse and discussing the possibilities if he wasn’t offered the job, right? Yet, the minute he mentioned it, I instinctively knew that he was going to get the job. So it was no surprise several days later when he did.

I won’t go into the details of the absolute shitshow that followed with the move, as this post would end up becoming a novel. However, I will say that I was utterly unprepared for the way things unfolded and the complications that were involved. Having gone through multiple relocation moves in his military career, The Husband knew what to expect, and he tried to warn me, but being the Type A control freak that I am, I had my own plans in mind. So when shit came down hard and fast, and the whole move took place within a couple of weeks, and I had virtually no control over the process, I was in full panic mode. Oh yes, there were tears. Lots and lots of tears. And lots and lots of alcohol.

Obviously, things came together in the end, or else I wouldn’t be sitting here sipping on a cappuccino and enjoying a delicious fruit and cheese plate in the FUCKING CZECH REPUBLIC… How awesome is that??? If someone told me 5 weeks ago that I would be here, I wouldn’t have believed it. I almost want to laugh at the absurdity of my life right now. But I know the reality of the situation hasn’t fully hit me yet.

When The Husband initially thought he had to sell me on the idea of moving here, he tried to appease my fears of being unemployed and giving up my independence by telling me that I could spend my time focusing on the podcast, writing blog articles, working out whenever I want, drinking coffee, watching my favorite reality shows, and hanging out with the dog while he goes to work. Talk about a life of leisure. Shouldn’t this be a dream come true after working my ass off for most of my life?

Between juggling a full-time job, the podcast, coaching CrossFit, obligations to my Soroptimist group, and all of the online classes and courses I was taking, I barely had a minute to breathe over the past couple of years. And honestly, I’ve never not been “busy.” I’m one of those people who always has to be doing something or challenging myself in some way. I’ve worked since I was 15 years old (technically 12 years old if you count working in my parents’ office), and I’ve had a full-time job since graduating college, most often with accompanying side jobs. Now I literally have no job responsibilities, and I’m essentially a stay-at-home wife and dog mom. Talk about fucking surreal. I seriously don’t know how to absorb this new life yet.

Right now it feels like I’m just on vacation, especially since we are living out of suitcases in a hotel until we find permanent housing. However, it’s been less than a week, and I’m sure the novelty of my vacation mentality will wear off soon. After coming down from weeks of significant stress and a literal emotional breakdown when we arrived here a few days ago (Picture me crying uncontrollably in the bathtub, drinking directly from a bottle of wine that I begged The Husband to purchase for me from a vending machine in the hotel lobby…), at this particular moment, I’m feeling fairly Zen and just going with the flow.

I have no idea what the future holds in terms of my career options now or even what my day-to-day life is going to look like living here. And I don’t know why the Universe wants an outspoken patriotic American to live in Eastern Europe. But I do know that the Universe has given me this opportunity for a reason and that this is all part of the path that is my purpose in this life. So, instead of worrying about the “how” or even the “why” at this point, I’m surrendering to the process, and I’m embracing that this is exactly where I’m meant to be right now. And so it is.

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
Committing to “The Power List”

August 18th, 2023

Yes, another month has gone by without a blog post. Maybe even longer? Not sure if anyone has even noticed. I often think I’m just writing to entertain myself. There’s a lot of unexpected and chaotic shit going on in life right now (more on that later), and I was incredibly sick for several weeks (again), so writing has kind of fallen to the bottom of my priority list. But in an odd way, that’s kind of appropriate because this blog post has to do with priorities…

If you’ve followed my blog or the podcast for any length of time, you’ll know that one of my biggest inspirations in terms of leveling up my life has been Andy Frisella. As much as I enjoy the relatively even-keeled and often Zen-like approach of Tony Robbins, Mary Morrisey, and Dean Grazioso (along with many others), there is something about Andy’s straightforward, angrily passionate demeanor and consistent use of the word “fuck” that really resonates with my soul. Plus, he’s a boldly patriotic American who cares about what happens to this country, and he refuses to be silenced, even though he’s rich as fuck and doesn’t need to put himself out there every day. Basically, he’s my role model for standing strong in my values and beliefs and focusing on kicking ass at life.

Last year, I wrote a blog post about my experience with “75 Hard” and how it truly changed my world. Yes, it was definitely fucking hard, but living from the perspective of repeatedly committing to personal excellence every day kept me in a growth mindset and helped me realize that the only thing holding me back from my goals was me and my own excuses and justifications for why I believed I couldn’t do something. It was a truly powerful experience that reinforced my self-esteem, determination, grit, belief in myself, and my discipline to continue moving forward, even when I hit stumbling blocks.

After completing “75 Hard,” I decided to commit to taking on what Andy calls “The Power List.” Stephanie and I covered this in a podcast episode last month, but if you haven’t heard of it, “The Power List” is a really effective way of establishing positive habits and accountability in your life by taking five actionable steps every day that move you forward towards your goals. Andy refers to these five action steps as “critical tasks.” If you complete all five critical tasks you set for yourself that day, you “win” the day. If you don’t, you “lose” the day. Sounds simple, right? Well, “simple” doesn’t always equate to “easy.”

If you want the full run down on “The Power List,” I highly suggest you go listen to Episode 16 of the “Real AF Podcast,” where Andy breaks it all down in detail. But the one thing he makes very clear is that the five critical tasks you commit to each day aren’t easily attainable goals – they are small action steps that create the momentum that enables you to reach your big goals over time. It’s about being consistent and committing to taking action every day on the things that are important to you. This is how you start to develop confidence and a mindset of winning, doing the things that you once thought were impossible for you to do or achieve. This is how you accomplish the big shit in your life.

One of the things Andy says is, “Big goals inspire big actions. Big actions produce big results.”

Every time you “win” the day, you move the needle forward in taking more ownership over the direction of your life. The way Andy explains it, when you win enough weeks, you win the month. When you win enough months, you win the year. And when you win enough years, you win your life.

Well fuck yeah, I want to win my life. So, I embraced the concept of “The Power List” with gusto, ordering a fancy hardcover journal from Andy’s website, even though I could have just tracked my days in a basic $2 notebook. But no, I wanted it to feel “official,” like Andy had eyes on me and was personally holding me accountable with every turn of the page. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous. And probably a little weird.

But I also know myself… When I feel the pressure of someone else holding me accountable, even if it’s only made up accountability in my own head, it drives me to want to succeed. Silly? Sure, but it works. It was the same way with the “75 Hard” app. Nobody was actually monitoring my progress or looking over my shoulder, but I felt the pressure of needing to be consistent and follow through on my commitment to the program in order to check off every task in the app by the end of the day. So, if a book that nobody else was even going to see was going to give me the same feeling, then I was all about it.

I started “The Power List” on December 26th, 2022, and eight months later, I can say it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. As much as I am organized and disciplined most of the time, I also tend to procrastinate on the shit I don’t want to do, even when it’s something as simple as making a phone call or sending an email. Sometimes I drag shit out for weeks and end up waiting until the last minute, or I put something off altogether, and then I feel guilty or get down on myself for not doing the things that I know I should be doing. And when I start falling into that cycle, it’s a downward spiral where my sense of self-worth declines, and I start to doubt myself and my abilities. And that is not a good fucking place to be.

One of the things that I know is critical to achieving my goals is the power of visualization and shifting my subconscious beliefs. Even just spending five minutes a day visualizing achieving my goals has a massive impact on my mindset, my self-belief, and my discipline. Is five minutes a lot of time for committing to something that I know will help me level up my life and accomplish my dreams? Fuck no. And yet I find it so easy to make excuses for why I’m too busy or don’t have time, and I tell myself I’ll do it later, and then the next thing I know, the day is over and I didn’t do it at all.

But when I commit to writing down five things every morning that I know I need to focus on getting done for the day in support of my overall goals, and I see these five critical tasks in black and white glaring at me every time I look at the notebook that I carry with me throughout the day, the vibe is totally different. My energy is different. My level of discipline is different. My determination is different. My sense of accountability is different. And my attitude is different. I don’t procrastinate. I don’t make excuses. I just get shit done, even when it’s shit I don’t want to do.

Maybe it’s the Type A nerd in me, but there is just something so incredibly satisfying about putting a checkmark next to each critical task that I complete throughout the day. Even more so when I see all five tasks checked off by the end of the day. I go to bed feeling that sense of “fuck yeah” satisfaction, knowing that I stayed accountable to what I said I was going to do, and I “won” the day.

Are there days where I fail to complete my five critical tasks and I don’t win the day? Yep. Sometimes life gets in the way, shit happens, and my plans for the day fall by the wayside. And then I have to circle the “L” for “Lose” at the bottom of the page. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I know I’m going to occasionally (or sometimes even frequently) have setbacks, and I’m not going to “win” every day.

Being sick for the past three weeks was a major setback, and I didn’t even crack open “The Power List” because I was barely able to get out of bed. And honestly, with all of the shit going on in my life right now, it would be easy to just leave the book sitting on my desk untouched and slide back into old patterns. But instilling the habit of giving myself five critical tasks to accomplish every day for the past eight months has resulted in me making “The Power List” a priority in my life, because I know it’s an incredible tool for accomplishing my long-term goals. So despite the setbacks of illness and some huge changes coming up in my life that have my head spinning, I’m back on track and re-committed to my daily five critical tasks. I may not be winning 100% of the time, but I average winning the day 90-98% of the time. And for someone who used to procrastinate and put shit off, I’d say those are pretty good odds, wouldn’t you?

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara
A Holiday Essay on Freedom… It’s More Than Just Barbecues, Fireworks, and Beer

July 4th, 2023

Since today is the 4th of July, and the whole reason I started this blog and the Unapologetically Outspoken platform in the first place was because I felt compelled to speak out as a patriotic American, I think it’s both appropriate and important to post an article about patriotism, freedom, and what this holiday is really all about. Yes, barbecues, fireworks, pool parties, and alcohol are in order, but do you know what you’re even celebrating?? Stephanie and I covered this more in depth on the podcast yesterday, but in case you missed it, or you don’t follow the podcast, here’s my thoughts on what we should all be remembering and feeling grateful for on Independence Day.

Starting with a brief history lesson for those of you who may have forgotten or who were never taught properly in the first place… July 4th is the celebration of America declaring independence from Great Britain in 1776, when the British American colonies got tired of Britain’s tyrannical rule, and the American Revolutionary War began in 1775. The colonists fought to be recognized as independent states, separate from Britain. It was essentially an uprising – a rebellion, where delegates from the original 13 colonies came together and formed the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. Even though the war lasted until 1783, the Declaration of Independence was officially adopted on July 4th, 1776, thus sparking the birth of this great nation. The actual document itself wasn’t signed until August 2nd, 1776, but we recognize July 4th as the official holiday because it marked the date that the Continental Congress approved the final wording.

Now here’s where the powerful part comes in, at least from my perspective. I’m going to quote directly from an article titled, “Introduction: Revolutionary Importance of the Declaration of Independence” by guest essayist Judge Michael Warren on the constitutingamerica.org website:

“The importance of the Declaration of Independence can hardly be overstated. It established for the first time in world history a new nation based on the First Principles of the rule of law, unalienable rights, limited government, the Social Compact, equality, and the right to alter or abolish oppressive government.

Contrary to the beliefs of some, the American Revolution was not fought for lower taxes or to protect slavery. In fact, the tea tax which provoked the Boston Tea Party actually lowered the price of tea, and many of the Founding Fathers were opposed to slavery.

Indeed, the second paragraph of the Declaration of Independence announces for the whole world to see our underlying motivation for the American Revolution:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.“

So, why do I find this particular article so compelling? Because I think Americans have become so comfortable and complacent with taking our respective “freedoms” for granted that we have forgotten what our actual freedoms are truly supposed to entail. America was founded on the principle of “we the people” holding the power. The citizens of America, not the government. It is spelled out very clearly in the language of the Declaration of Independence that WE have the right to equality, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, and if our government attempts to deny or take away those unalienable rights, “we the people” have a right (and frankly, in my mind, a responsibility) to alter or abolish that government and institute a new one. But do we actually have this power…?

I suppose one can argue that’s the reason why we have “free and fair elections” – to alter our government structure to fit the will of the people. Perhaps that was true at one time, but we all know that’s bullshit in this day and age. There is no such thing as a “free and fair election” when voter fraud runs rampant and we have a one-party system that’s hijacked our government. And there’s also no such thing as true freedom with a government structure increasingly based on excessive taxation combined with overreaching laws, social programs, and incentives designed to keep people poor and dependent, believing the government should be responsible for taking care of us.

Does the fault lie with the Biden Administration alone? Of course not. It lies with our federal government structure in general, regardless of which party is in power. We haven’t had the actual freedoms that the Founding Fathers wanted for this country in decades. They have been slowly eroded away over time, and our government has become exceedingly more powerful than it was designed to be. The difference over the past several years is that government suppression of our freedoms has been kicked into high gear, and we are on a speeding train with no brakes, controlled by conductors who are gleefully and purposefully destroying everything America stands for.

Am I still grateful to live in a country with more freedoms than pretty much anywhere else in the world? Absolutely. I literally express gratitude for my freedom every day. But those freedoms are being taken away at an alarming rate, and I will not pretend that what’s happening in this country is acceptable or okay. Because it’s not.

What happened to “we the people?” We have been purposefully divided with the specific intention of keeping us focused on fighting each other and arguing over completely insane and ridiculous shit instead of coming together in support of protecting America and the values and beliefs our country was founded on. The only way we can win the battle of good vs. evil (which is how I see the relationship between the people of this country and big government) is to unite as patriotic Americans and take back our power. Not separated by politics or divided by gender ideology and manufactured racism. The only way we have even a chance at true freedom is to mutually and unwaveringly stand together for independence and freedom, just as the American colonists did back in the 1770’s.

Are we truly capable of doing this? The hopeful idealist in me says yes, but the realist in me says no fucking way. At least not without the intervention of a cataclysmic event or a full-blown war. And even then, I have my doubts. As a whole, we have become too soft, too weak, too dependent, too comfortable, too complacent, and oftentimes, too stupid, too ignorant, and far too naïve to understand what true freedom is about.

I could go on and on, but I think I’ve made my point. And this post is not meant to be depressing or an angry rant. It’s merely meant to provoke some critical thought about the historical significance of why we have a July 4th holiday in the first place. Enjoy the barbecued steaks, burgers, and hot dogs. Have a refreshing alcoholic beverage. Celebrate with your friends and family. Whip out your collection of sparklers and let the kids run around on the lawn. Go watch a patriotic fireworks show. Take advantage of the great sale prices on a new lawnmower or some patio furniture. But also take a few moments to be grateful for your freedom, and then ask yourself, are you willing to fight to keep it…?

Happy Independence Day.

Unapologetically Outspoken,

Tara