Tonight, a segment on the Biggest Loser really hit home. There is a father/daughter team who is very close. The daughter is 24, but obviously still very much under her father's wing. The whole segment was about how the daughter needed to start living her life for her. How she was strong enough to do so, AND how she needed to tell her dad that she was ready to do this.

I can relate to her SO MUCH.

I realized at some point, that I have relied a lot on my parents. I stayed under my parents' wings a lot longer that most people did. There was a time that I had to. I needed them. I had no one else. Or I felt like I had no one else.

Once I felt like I could spread my wings a bit, I was afraid to disappoint my parents. I felt like they need me. And while, I know that they would support me, the thought of hurting them killed me. It still does. And I've stayed put.

Recently, some things in my life, especially on the job front, have made me realize that my future most likely means leaving this beautiful valley that I was born and raised in, the place that I've always called home.

And while I'm nervous and scared about it, I'm also excited. I can hear other places calling my name. I love that a new adventure is just waiting on me. I've slowly been getting my parents used to this idea. (And if I'm being honest, me as well.) This change won't happen overnight because I have some things here to get in order and to take care of before I can leave. I know that my parents will be sad and will miss me (as I will them), they just want me to be happy, and this will always be home. And for the first time, I know they will be okay. We all will.

It's time I spread my wings, and I can't wait to fly.

There once was a little girl who had two loving parents and a brother. Her parents never abused her. They did the best they could to provide for her and her brother. The four of them had really good times and built great memories together.

However, the little girl's father was very hard on her. He never meant it in anyway but to try to raise the little girl into being the best woman she could possibly be. You see, he had a hard childhood with a very poor example as a father, and while that may not excuse the fact that he was hard on his daughter, it was the reason for it. It was the only way he knew how to parent.

He used to tell the little girl that even if you think you've done your best, you can always do better or find a way to improve. That stuck with the little girl so much that for a long time, she felt bad if she brought home a "B" on her report card. She was always the first one at basketball practice and the last one to leave, even when her chances of playing in a game were slim. Anything else would have made her feel like a failure.

As a result, the girl grew into a woman who was extremely hard on herself. She was always afraid to disappoint those she cared most about. Even if it was something little. She did eventually see how self-destructive her ways were, but after a lifetime of feeling such pressure from not only her father, but also from herself, it was a very hard habit to break. In fact, she still struggles with it. She finds herself apologizing even when she doesn't need to or panicking over little things.

She realizes it's hard for people to understand it. Just snap out of it, some say. But she can't just snap out of it. She's stuck. She doesn't sleep, can't focus, her head hurts, her heart hurts. She knows that it's bad and she shouldn't do this, and that just creates more pressure.

Why can't she just let it go? Why can't she just relax? Let it go? Know that everything will work out? God, this hurts, why do I do this to myself? Three nights without sleep and I can't think. Is it dinner time? When did it get dark out? How do I turn my brain off...

Yes, that woman is me. I admit this is an extreme case of what I sometimes go through, and they do happen less often than they used to because I have people in my life now that really help me keep the calm. Most days.

I don't blame my dad for being hard on me. Do I wish he would have realized what he was doing and changed it? Sure, but I'm not angry at how he raised me. How can I be angry with him for his flaws when I have my own?

I'm not sure that I'll ever not be hard on myself. It's like it's deep inside of my brain, and while it doesn't surface as much as it used to, it still surfaces. But I know that I have people, friends, that will pull me out of it, that will hold my hand while I sleep if I need it. They help me see the light.

Because of them, the pressure isn't as bad.

Today is my brother's 28th birthday. I did not get him a gift, did not send him a card, nor will I be calling him to wish him a happy day.

I've thought long and hard about this post. Should I write it? Should I not? I kind of feel like I'm airing my family's dirty laundry, but I realize now that this post is more about me and my feelings, and isn't that what this blog is about? What it's for?

I've mentioned before how my brother and I cannot seem to get along. Since we were teenagers, it's like we've always been at odds about something. Then a little over a year ago, something happened, and while I don't want to go into the exact details (some of you already know what happened anyway), let's just say that my brother broke my trust in the worst way possible. I trusted that he was the one man that would NEVER hurt me, and he did. To my brother, the alcohol did it. To me, whether alcohol was involved or not, he is the one that hurt me. He is the one who had such anger in his eyes.

In the past year, I've done the best I could to tolerate being around him. For our family's sake. Then a few weeks ago, the straw was broken. I was accused of "questioning my brother's parenting skills" and yelled at and that HE couldn't stand to be around ME. First, let me say, I wasn't questioning skills. I was simply stating a fact about two year olds in general, and the fact that I've been helping take care of little kids since I was 13 qualifies me to make that general statement, I believe. But, maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut.

I know that many of you will think or even say that life is too short. I should forgive him and try to mend fences. While I work every day to try to find forgiveness, the fence isn't merely broken. It's been burned to pieces. Until my brother can learn that he needs to accept responsibility for his actions instead of blaming it on someone else or something else, I cannot waste anymore energy on him or be around him. I know this hurts my family, and for that I'm truly sorry. But I have to take care of me. I have to try to work towards forgiving him, not for his sake but for my own.

I never thought I would be in this position. Not speaking to my brother or trusting him. I realize that I probably haven't been the best of sisters in our lives, and I admit that now, but I refuse to take full responsibility for our problems. And the fact that he can't seem to admit or accept responsibility makes forgiveness that much harder. It makes me feel like I'm not good enough or important enough to him. And really, I guess I'm not.

I could be down today or sulky or sad that today is my brother's birthday and we aren't speaking. I love my brother, but I just can't be around him right now. And that kills me. It really does. But I'm not going to be down. I'm not going to allow myself or give him that control of my life. Instead, I'm going to go to a movie with friends, I'm going to maybe get some candy at that movie. I'm going to celebrate this day because today is the day that my baby brother was born and even though I told my dad to take him back because I asked God for a sister (hey. I was four.), we were great friends for a long time. I'm going to celebrate this day because I have so many people in my life that do care, that do think I'm good enough. I'm going to celebrate this day because today is beautiful (even though it's snowing). And life is good.

A friend sent this to me today, and I'm sure most of you on the east coast get this and may feel the same way. (Or if you just hate snow.) The first snow was great, the rest can suck it. But this made me laugh, and I hope you enjoy it too.

First, let me say, yes, I did provoke this behavior in my nephew, but I had to show you the fight I have on my hands here. People, this is MY quilt, and I'm not giving it up. I don't care how cute the little stinker is, this means war.