When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  That’s pretty solid advice.  I don’t think many people will argue with that saying.  But its not always the easiest to practice.  Lets be real, when life hands you lemons, you want to start a fucking food fight with Life and tell Life to make their own damned lemonade. 

Life handed me a lemon about a month ago.  It was a big, fugly, sour lemon.  I was pissed. I was hurt.  I was devastated.  I felt that the universe treated me unfairly.  I felt like the arrival of that lemon into my life destroyed part of my identity.  I felt like my life no longer had any worth.  I wanted to isolate myself.  I wanted to get on the next flight to nowhere and never come back.

I had forgotten how the lemon arrived into my life- in a giant fruit basket of the most delicious, gorgeous fruit you have ever seen.  2016 was an amazing year for me.  Life was so sweet and good.  As soon as I stopped staring at that ugly fucking lemon, I could start seeing the good fruit again.

My boyfriend, Brock, took care of me for weeks without complaint.  He didn’t like the look of that lemon either, but he dealt with it anyway.  My friend Jessie flew out to spend time with me.  I don’t think the sole purpose of her visit was to lift my spirits, but it certainly made me laugh and smile for the first time in weeks.  Another friend Diane stayed with me for almost a week. (Okay, part of that reason was the power was out on Lanai for three days).  But still, her presence and her voice of reason was a light for me.

I used to be famous for shutting down and hiding away from people when I was hurting.  I am so thankful for the community of people that held my head above water and didn’t let me hide away.  At one point, Brock took me into his arms and said “You’re pushing me away”.  He was right. I wanted to shove him back. I wanted to run away like I had done so many times before.  But I realized that if I did that, I would be sacrificing the entire fruit basket. And damn, does that Polynesian fruit taste good. 😉  So instead, I curled up into his embrace.  No more pushing away.  No more hiding.

The lemon is still ugly.  I still don’t want that sour son of a bitch.  But the lemon is in my fruit basket to stay.   The lemon has started me off on a new and re-invigorated journey of self-acceptance and holistic healing.  They say, “One bad apple can spoil the whole bunch”. The same is true for lemons–but only if you let it.