I feel like I share a lot of deeply personal things, but I tell my stories in hopes of helping others. 

Lately I've been a bit blocked about what to write. I just knew I wanted it to be something that spoke to someone. Someone who really needed it. And now I know.

This is for the girl whose boyfriend makes her cry more than laugh.

This is for the woman who begs her partner to love and accept her.

This is for anyone who has been in the clutches of love addiction.

it is very real and very painful and it's hard to see when our eyes are clouded over with tears and disrespect for ourselves.

I'll never forget going to the cellphone store to see if mine could be fixed. It was a tiny, pink phone that I had had for about a year and one day it just stopped working. 

So I handed it to the phone guy and he took it to the back to find out what was going on and if he could do anything about it.

But when he brought it back to me he asked, "Did you drop it in the water or something? It's completely water logged and we can't fix it. I'm sorry."

No, I hadn't dropped it in the water. I had cried and cried and cried into it for the better part of a year. I had cried talking to someone I was addicted to, and it was at that point that I realized I had a real problem. My phone had stopped working because of the massive amount of tears that had seeped through.

I blamed guys for a long, long time. And although it was partly because the ones I dated had issues, it was not that they took anything from me. I gave it, willingly.

There was one in particular. I gave him all that I was, all my dreams, all my passions in the hopes that he would accept and love me. My happiness completely relied on him and what he thought of me. Some days he wanted to marry me. Other days he said I wasn't the one. And I accepted that for over a year.

I don't even know why I was so obsessed. Maybe it was his charm or his humor.

I chased after his love because I didn't love myself. In so many words I told him, "I'm not good enough for you. Please accept me."

I wanted love so badly that I would have done anything for him, and the thought of being out of love was the most frightening thing of all.

At the end of it all, I looked in the mirror and didn't know who I was because I had melted into someone who could've cared less.

I spent hours in therapy learning to heal from love addiction and the vicious cycle of co-dependency. 

Those who are addicted to love feel that they can only find security and self-worth in another person. 

10 Signs you might be a love addict:

1) When a relationship ends, you feel your life is over and more than once have thought about suicide due to the end of a relationship.
2) You take on more of the responsibility to keep the relationship alive.
3) You are overwhelmed by loneliness if not in a relationship.
4) You feel inadequate if you are not in a relationship.
5) You try to be who your partner wants you to be. This often involves giving up your passions, dreams, activities you enjoy, friends, etc.
6) You are terrified of being abandoned. 
7) You have an overwhelming need to check up on your partner.
8) You feel powerless when you're in love.
9) You are needy when in a relationship and tend to smother your partner.
10) You fall in love easily and quickly.

Self-esteem was my issue. I didn't feel complete without someone by my side.

With one guy I freaked out every time I thought he was checking out another girl. With another guy I craved his attention because I thought he was the best I could get. 

And as soon as I let go of one addiction, I got myself into another one (an ex no less). Ann Smith puts it best, saying, "The problem is your pattern, not who you are with."

I thought by running into the arms of a familiar lover (and complete opposite of love addiction #1) I would find peace, but it was the same story. Constantly chasing and seeking and begging for love and approval. 

I put up with someone who punched holes in the wall just for love.

I put up with someone who told me I couldn't date other guys even after we had broken up. And I went back to him!! Just for love.

After the last breakup I realized I had some work to do. I made a commitment to be alone for awhile and be responsible for my own happiness. And when I did start dating again, I didn't rush into it, fall into infatuation (put him on a pedestal), or make all the effort to sustain the relationship. 

I let him do the calling.

I let him do the asking.

I let him say I love you.

I healed my love addiction. You know how I know? Because even though I'd hate to lose the great guy I'm with now, I know if it did end, there's life on the other side. I would be okay. 

A few years ago I would have rather killed myself than be without whomever I was with.

If you feel like you might be a love addict or know someone who's struggling, check out this huge list of resources: 

Love Addicts Anonymous

And if you have any questions, please feel free to reach out to me. 

Imagine with me for a minute...

you're walking down a long hall and come across three doors.

The first door is large, beautiful, shining with golden light, and ornately decorated. It immediately catches your eye, so you walk up to it and put your hand on the door knob, knowing that something amazing is behind it. But when you turn the knob, it doesn't open. The door's locked and there's no key.

This represents the past.

The next door you come across is made of hardy oak and is slightly open. "Oh good!" you think, hoping you'll be able to get through this one. When you get closer, you take a peek through the crack and see a beautiful garden, blue skies, the things your dreams are made of. But when you try to open the door to get to the other side, it won't budge. It's too heavy and you're not strong enough.

This represents the future.

Finally, you come to the third door and the last in the long hallway. This door isn't as grand as the other two. In fact, it's just a screen door with nothing special about it. Except that when you get closer, you don't even have to touch it - it just flies open! A gust of wind blows through your hair and sunshine lights up your skin. You walk into the sunlight and bubbles float all around you. You notice that each bubble has a tiny piece of paper enclosed. You reach out your hands and a bubble lands and pops, leaving the tiny note crumpled in your palms.

You unfold the note and read, "Now is the time."

This represents the present.

Step into it.

I am deeply in love with all of my scars. 

They're poems written in my skin. Tattoos of hardship, survival, strength. They tell the story of who I am. Whisper the song of me.

I was a kid when I got my first scars and right on my face no less. Two little dog teeth marks - one beside my left eyebrow, the other beneath my left eye. The story goes that I pulled the dog bowl out from under our dog while he was eating. I don't remember that part, but I remember being pushed down and having to go to the doc for stitches. I don't snatch dog bowls anymore.

As for my left arm, well, I'm not afraid to tell you that I was once a cutter. It's not something I go around bragging about, but it is a part of who I am, my history. These scars signify a lot of pain, locking myself in bathrooms, aching for release. I'm not sure how many are scattered across my forearm. No one would even know they're there unless I showed them and the light was right. But there's one that stands out more than the rest; it runs vertical through my tattoo. The tattoo I got to remind me that my scars are poetry, no matter how ugly the situation that formed them.

I have three new scars from my time in the hospital and I'm so grateful for them. They're like new additions to the family. Symbols of strength and life.

The one etched beneath my left armpit is a little over 2 inches and is where the doctor went in to work on my lung. There's still some numbness around it and I wonder if that feeling will ever come back.

And then there's the tiny incision cut on my left rib. I think that's where the doctor put in a scope before he decided on surgery. 

And my favorite new addition is the X incision that was placed right next to the first. That's where my chest tube went in. Every time I look at it I smile because how cool is it that I have a small X on my rib cage? That X was my lifeline and what kept my lung functioning until it could work on its own. 

I cherish my scars and the silent stories they tell the world. They won't ever let anyone tell me I'm weak and they'll always speak of the beauty of the journey. My journey.

Before the end of 2012 I decided that my word for 2013 would be 'Expand.' 

It's funny how it became such a literal experience and one that I will never forget.

It was December 22, 2012. I lay in bed knowing that I needed to get up and get ready for the four hour trip to my dad's house (I planned on spending Christmas with him), but anxiety swam in my chest and I just kept laying there trying to block out the light from the window. 

Before I left, I went outside to hug my boyfriend goodbye and I said, "I'm so glad we're making this move together." I was referring to the fact that on Jan. 31 we'd be flying to the Philippines. But life had other plans...as it always does.

It was around 3:00 pm and I pulled up to a crossing about 12 miles outside of where my dad lives. The crossing had traffic coming from the left, but I looked to the right. For some reason my brain fogged and it wasn't until I pulled out that I looked to the left and saw a truck coming at me at 70 miles per hour.

I looked at the driver. He looked at me. And all I could think was get ready, here it comes. Maybe I closed my eyes, maybe I held my breath. I don't know. All I felt was the spinning, spinning, spinning of my car and when it stopped I noticed the air bag had deployed, but I hadn't felt it. 

Within seconds people were out of their cars and crowded around, making sure I was okay. I couldn't breathe, but I figured I was just in shock. I tried to take deep breaths, but I couldn't. Everyone was so kind and waited with me until the ambulance came.

When the ambulance got there I almost told them I didn't need to go to the hospital, but I'm glad I thought twice about that. The ER took an x-ray and found that my left lung had collapsed. A small chest drain was put in to pull out the air from around my lung and I was admitted to the hospital for much longer than I would have ever thought. Thankfully, my room had a window and I could see the lake and a small pond with ducks. Everyday I watched the sun come up over the water and brighten my room.

After a week of no improvement, a lung specialist was brought in and it was decided that he would insert a scope to see what was going on. What he found was something I've been living with all my life and didn't even realize. Lung blebs - little pockets of air sitting on top of my lungs that randomly pop and can cause lung collapse. I had had minor pops in the past (now I know what all those chest pains were about), but the wreck is what caused the big one to pop and cause rupture. 

So he stapled my lung and agitated my chest wall so that the lung would adhere. He also inserted a larger chest tube. I now have a scar in the form of an X on my left side. It makes me chuckle :) x marks the spot.

After 15 days I was set free. All the air had been drained and my lung was working on its own. Now I'm aware of what's going on in there and it scares me a little, but I guess it's better to know and understand.

So that Jan. 31 trip didn't happen for me. In fact, flying is a little risky for people with my condition, but that is a whole other story for another time.

Here's the thing about my 2013 word - expand. It came to me one of those days I was sitting in the hospital bed, watching another hour of Lifetime: I literally had to expand to heal. My lung had to expand and latch on to my chest wall to heal.

What a beautiful metaphor for life. 

To heal, we too must expand and latch on to our Source. For me, that's God. It may be something else for you, but whatever/whomever it is, latch on and don't let go. There's something bigger at work here and it's creating and guiding and teaching us beautiful things. 

When I chose this word I didn't expect to live it so literally. I don't want to go through that again, but I want to keep expanding and growing and experiencing life. I want to expand spiritually and mentally and physically. I want my writing to expand and my dream business and my connections on this earth. 

And I want my heart to expand. To share. To serve. 

To Love.

Would you like to expand this year? Tell me about it, dear one.