Never have I ever felt more lost and confused as I did during the 8 months of our engagement.
And to be honest, it was kind of my fault.
I was so busy planning a wedding that I unintentionally drifted away from friends. Perhaps subconsciously I avoided interactions to protect myself from unwanted opinions from acquaintances about my wedding. Or perhaps I was in a gloomy mindset of, “They’re probably too busy to hang out with me” or “They wont care about my stress.”
Whatever the reason, I spent most of my time with family who helped with checklists, deadlines, color swatches, invitations, etc.
While I was thrilled to have this kind of support and all the planning was going well, I was still clueless about how to handle the emotional aspect of getting married. I had little to no newly-married friends I could ask, “Are you feeling how I’m feeling?”
So I secretly begged for the comfort of a fellow bride, a bridesmaid, a friend… anyone around my age who identifies as a female who could hold my hand through some tough conversations about preparing for marriage. Not the wedding. And while I had all the support and love in the world as far as the wedding planning goes, I still felt alone at times.
I’ve been trying to paint or sing or write words that express all the emotions I’ve been feeling lately. And for the past few days I couldn’t find it.
When I woke up this morning, this song was stuck in my head. I heard it in my dreams. And I realized it was the art I have been looking for to match whatever it is I’ve been feeling. I know it is considered a “sad song,” but for some reason it makes me so, so happy.
I sat outside in the sunshine and listened to it on repeat. There is just something magical about it. I wanted to share it with you.
“I’ve learned to slam on the brake Before I even turn the key Before I make the mistake Before I lead with the worst of me Give them no reason to stare No slipping up if you slip away So I’ve got nothing to share No, I got nothing to say”
We start with stars in our eyes
We start believing that we belong
But every sun doesn’t rise
And no one tells you where you went wrong
…. – Dear Evan Hansen
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to fly. And when I was 7 years old, I figured out how I could do it.
I was sitting in the audience of a local Irish dance show at a small theater across the street from the Grand Ole Opry. My neighbor just started Irish dance lessons, and I was excited to see her on a big stage.
As soon as the stage lights turned on, I was mesmerized. The dance number was titled “Dance Above the Rainbow,” and I sat at the edge of my seat, enviously watching girls my age twirl and leap in colorful capes across the stage.
I quickly caught myself bouncing out of my chair and tapping my black dress shoes on the floor, making up my own beats to what I described as, “fairy music.” The dance was the most magical thing I had ever seen, and my mouth dropped as tears filled my eyes.
Celebrated my 24th birthday over the weekend with my twin sister, parents, friends, and of course, delicious Mexican food.
My husband organized a birthday party for me at Uncle Julio’s in Brentwood, which was a blast! I picked a Catie Bee theme that included gold, black, and white decorations. My mom even helped me bake a Catie Bee cake, which was scrumptious and turned out WAY better than I expected.
My husband Wes and I are thrilled to be celebrating Christmas and Chanukah with loved ones.
Last week, Wes found a Groupon for a holiday family/pet photoshoot. Our cat Abu was a little scared of the whole thing, but we love our photos + our little family. What a precious gift.
For the past few days we have been visiting my husband’s family in West Virginia. Today we travel to Nashville where my siblings and parents are baking Chanukah cookies and belting Christmas jams with the karaoke machine. We look forward to opening gifts from Santa and lighting the menorah!
Wishing you a peaceful and joyous holiday! May your days be filled with yummy food, fuzzy socks, and good people.
In third grade I spent most of my recess time alone, dizzy and sweaty from spinning on the tire swing that hung from a giant tree on the playground.
“Dirt Figure Skating” is what I called it, as I pretended to be a champion figure skater like Michelle Kwan or Sasha Cohen with my own peculiar versions of axel-jumps and carry lifts above the dirt. My teachers observed from a distance, chuckling and shaking their heads, “There goes Catie…”
I coughed as my lungs filled with the cloud of dust and dirt that enveloped me, but I continued to make up new moves and turns. My stomach against the core of the tire, I felt the delicate touch of the warm sun on my neck while humming tunes from The Little Mermaid II.
Closing my eyes and then opening them again quickly,I wished my fairy god-mother would show up on the playground and change my black Mary Janes into beautiful white skates. I had this idea she would only grant my wish when I wasn’t looking, and so I kept my eyes closed hoping I’d have something to brag about when I returned to class.