I’m grounded from running right now. I have screeching pain in the area around my left hip flexor. Despite improvement every day, full recovery remains out of reach. What I originally thought was a small hiccup, three to five days off, has settled into an ever-present prohibition against the freedom of opening up into a long stride at the track, kicking too hard in the pool, or bouncing down the stairs.

It's telling that I recently said to someone I’d been off running for a month—when in actuality it was only two weeks. But when you’re stuck in a limbo of waiting for something to arrive over which you have so little influence, the imagination obliges with worst-case scenarios. 

In 2008, I was listening to the head of the World Wildlife Fund speak about the importance of collecting data: "We measure the things we care about," he said. Carter Roberts was arguing for why, when we care about saving a particular species, we can't just pour all our money into buying up habitat: we also have to measure how the population is doing.

Roberts went on to describe how, growing up, his dad would mark his height on the back of a door in their house. Every birthday, another pencil mark at the top of his little boy's head.

This is what my therapist says somewhere in the middle of our first session together.

Military. Wife.

This should be an obvious statement, but the way it struck me and how it continues to echo around inside my head highlights my resistance to the label. Military wife. 

It's the first thing she says when I ask her about what kind of adult she wants to be. Also: "a good job, a nice home, and two best friends—one of whom I've known since high school." A pretty solid list, especially at fourteen.

"Bravery is something you can learn," I tell her, "like any other skill."

I was 28 and desperately in love; but the relationship was tearing me apart and I couldn’t figure out if I should stay or if I should go. Therapy, religion, my mother—someone needed to give me some answers.

I knew I was unhappy; but would I be happy in the future if I stuck it out or if I pulled chocks and started over with someone new?

There’s a story I remember hearing around that time about happiness or joy.

"What's the most important moment of your life?" I say and my son rolls his eyes. "Gastrulation!"

His mom is pregnant and so we've been talking a lot about where babies come from. Revision: He is a nine year old boy, so we've been talking about everything. 

What school do astronauts go to? How many days does it take for Komodo Dragon venom to kill you? When did Tyrannosaurs Rex live?

When my husband sends me a Google calendar invite for Colonoscopy @ Thu Apr 12, I shrug and accept.

"What did you do, book us the Couple's Colonoscopy Suite?" I say. "I'm imagining luxurious sheets, our tables side-by-side, the scent of lavender."

"I knew you were going to give me a hard time about that one," he says.