Jill Marianne Edwards

July 14, 2026

I am mourning the vision of my life.  I am mourning a dream.

Someone told me today that when he and his wife got together, she was sad quite often, and she was worried he would think he thought she missed her ex-husband who treated her badly.  He understood though, that she was simply mourning the life she thought she would have with him.  She was mourning her vision of him and their marriage and family.  She was morning a dream.  That resonated so deeply with me.

I realize in my codependency that I am constantly trying to fill the void where the husband piece of my dream was.  I have the home piece.  And a very beautiful, feminine feeling, cozy one at that.  I also have the children piece.  My children and I have a great relationship and they all love each other and we do fun things together, and even through the divorce, I feel we have kept a sense of family identity - mainly knowing and living out our core values.  Truly, the family piece feels strong.  Like a true family unit.  I've got the dog too.  Louie is the cutest, literally most perfect French Bulldog ever.  He's perfect.  I've got a good job, and a nice daily routine.  I actually have a lot of peace right now.  Probably partly because I'm turning to writing instead of a man to process my feelings.  Go me.

But still, that craving is there.  That craving for a man to call every time something exciting happens.  The craving for a man to admire me.  The craving for a man to process sadness with.  But here's the deal...lately, I feel like I'm craving a true partner.  To add to my life.  Not to complete it.  I'm getting more and more attached to myself - to approving of myself, to deciding what I want, and doing it, going after it.  Like learning.  I'm obsessed with it.  I always have been, but man, I've got so much time lately because I don't have a man in my back pocket.  I'm obsessively reading history and consuming history documentaries.  I'm absorbing it all quickly!  Also, my house is so organized and clean.  It's simply amazing how much I'm getting done overall these days without a man.  I have no obligation or sense of needing to nurture a relationship other than the one with my children.  And wow.  Life feels so incredibly peaceful.  But it's more than that...I'm struggling to really explain what this is doing for me.  It feels quite transformative.

I've said many times that I'm going to write a book called, Shift, one day.  Because every now and then I go through a deep internal shift.  And I'm changed forever.  I realize when it happens that it's happened and that I'm not going back.  And no one can really quite understand it like me, but I just...know.  I remember, for example, when I realized I would never allow myself to be treated badly in a relationship ever again.  I just knew it.  And it was so simple.  Like...why would I ever do that?  Why did I?  If I spot even a hint of disrespect, I'm out.  It's wrong, and I don't have to stand for it, and don't want to.  I mean...I'm laughing, because why in the WORLD did I ever let my peace be so disturbed by someone treating me like crap?  Probably because I was dependent financially.  Ugh.  That's a whole other writing session.  Or several.  But the main point is, I will never go back.  I'd rather work three jobs and be happy and single than depend on a man financially and ever put myself in a position where I feel stuck.  I love my peace and my joy and my life.  What a good life.  Thank you God for bringing me through the fire.  

Codependency sucks.  It's nice starting to feel like I'm becoming free from it.  Like really free.  Liberated.  I am a woman I love and like.  I will nurture my delicate heart.  I will pour into my eager and borderline obsessively curious mind.  I will protect my wellbeing.  I will not depend on someone else to tell me I'm worth any of that.  I know I am.

Back to the dream, quickly.  I'm too tired to keep writing much, but I do want to say this - when I have mourned the dream, that begs the question, what is the new dream?  I'm kind of excited to dream it up and chase it as a whole, healthy woman this time.

July 11, 2026

I approve of myself.

That's the overall feeling I got last night as I was sitting smack dab in the middle of the movie theater room with my feet perched up on the railing in front of me.  I bought myself the large bucket of popcorn, and even paid for the year so I could get a discount on future large buckets of popcorn, and I bought myself a drink.  I felt so adult.

I sat there watching preview after preview of inspiring stories.  And as I sat there, I let the feeling of being on a date with myself sink in.  This is my third date.  The first one was a trip to a waterfall a few weeks ago.  Then, I took myself out to ice cream and sat all by myself at the depot museum across the street from the ice cream shop.  And this time, it was the movies.  The movies will definitely be a more regular thing.  There's something so fun about not waiting on someone to get their things. About not asking them where they want to sit.  About not worrying if it looks "pretty" to get my wool socks out of my purse when the movie starts.  About not worrying how I sit.  

I approve of me.

I saw the movie, Young Washington.  At the heart of the story is how he became the great leader he was.  Naturally, I thought a lot about that inner calling I feel to lead.  I'm still curious about how it's unfolding for me, but I definitely feel the call.  I know good leadership takes great courage, and great courage comes from staring fear in the face.  And the face of fear for me, is me - really examining myself, my ways, my patterns, my deepest longings, my deepest pains.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but curiously look into my possible future.  I'm embracing the lonliness that could come with leadership.  And it's weirdly comforting.  I think it's just a journey of liberation really though.  I don't want to be lonely.  I want a companion.  But I guess right now I'm feeling quite exhilarated because I'm realizing that I really do like who I am.  And more than that, I approve of who I am.

I approve of who I am.

All my life, I've bounced the essence of who I am off of absolutely everyone I come into contact with.  If I'm being brutally honest, I don't really ever walk into a group of people standing on my own two feet.  And if I fool myself into thinking I do, at the least, I have a man in the background to fall back on.  Some guy to call or text to verbally process the events of the day with.

No more of that.  Not right now.  

Lately, I come as I am.  Raw, true, and totally me.  All of me.  This is what you've got.  I'm a whole lot of a whole lot.  I'm dynamic.  I'm deeply loving, deeply loyal, and fierce.  I'm opinionated.  I have such strong opinions.  I'm ok with that.  I'm going to lean into that more and I'm going to stand on my own opinions.  And if I ever feel that my opinion was wrong, I'll stand on my handling of that.  Me.  I'll do it.  I'll grow and fail and grow again.  I'll love myself enough to try.  And I'll love the chance I've been given to be in this world enough to be all I am.

July 7, 2026

Tonight I'm in a hotel room on a short overnight work trip.  And for the first time in a long time, I don't have a man to talk to about my day.  Even if it was a male friend (with the possibility of being more, because, I mean, let's be honest - this is me we're talking about), I've always "had" someone.  And my go-to on nights like tonight, when I'm really and truly alone, is to strike up a conversation with a male friend that miiiiiight be an option for dating in the future.  

Like what in the world?  That's my pattern though.  For some reason, I refuse to just be alone with my own thoughts and feelings.

Agh.  I guess it's codependency.  Stupid codependency.

But here I am writing instead.  Please God let writing heal me.  

When I was a young girl, I spent so much time by myself.  I'd even go so far as to say I was a loner.  I mean sure, when I was in a social setting, which I thoroughly enjoyed, I was a little social butterfly.  I was happy, could impress the adults with deep philosophic leaning conversation, and smiled and was simply not a bother to anyone.  So overall, everyone liked me.  But looking back, I do wonder if I kept a safe distance from real friendships as a way of guarding myself due to a deep seated fear of being disliked.  I did have one really close friend for about a year.  But I never felt like I could fit in with anyone other than deep thinkers.  I still feel that way to this day.  When I find one, I cling to them for dear life.  But even then, I'm kind of picky....maybe I just haven't found "my" people is what I often tell myself.  And even now, while writing this, I think it's true to some degree.  Just because I don't feel like I fit in anywhere, doesn't mean I don't.  The world is huge.  Sometimes we just have to find our part of it.  Our people.  Our tribe.  My children are my tribe first and foremost.  I love spending time with them.  But it's a different dynamic.  I'm looking for....I don't know.  Maybe I'm just that codependent.  Maybe I'm looking for me in other people.  And of course, I'll never find me there.  Only here.  With myself. 

Please God let writing heal me.

So back to childhood.  Other than surface level relationships in youth group and social environments like that, I spent a ton of time by myself.  Most of my memories during those years of awakening to self (around age 10-14 or so for me) were of being in the woods, the barn with the animals, and the fields and pastures.  Looking back, I think I was quite the wanderer.  I spent so much time in my curious mind.  I think I just lived in a neverending state of curiosity.  I was so happy just exploring the world around me.  I also read quite a bit.  I read some English literature like Pride and Prejudice.  I read the Bible a lot.  I read some C.S. Lewis.  I questioned quite a bit.  I loved reading Bible study type literature as well.  

The main point is, I wasn't lonely.  It just never even crossed my mind.  I think the first time I really connected with another human being on a really deep level was when I had my first real best friend.  She was a thinker like me.  She loved poetry.  And the curious mind.  She was a little quirky, but I probably was too.  Heck, aren't we all?  We had a really close friendship for about a year and then went our separate ways.  I feel like my codependency really took root from around that time on.  I don't think my friendship with her started it, though.  I just think I was at that age where I realized I wanted to relate to another person on a deeper level.  And I think I also started not really knowing how to comfortably get to know myself from an observation viewpoint.  Before, I just was myself.  I didn't think about thinking, or think about feeling.  I just thought and felt and did.  But then, that awareness started to creep in.  And I didn't do this consciously, but I do wonder if I simply didn't know how to be with myself anymore, and maybe I was scared of not knowing who I really was, so I put all that energy into deeply investigating who other people were - mainly my romantic relationship, because leave it to attaching to the opposite sex to invite all kinds of toxic enmeshment.  

I was so enmeshed.  And I didn't know how to get out and stay out.  

What a depressing writing episode.  But, I'm doing what I've been running from my whole life.  So, there it is.  Laid out.  Plain and ugly and frightening.  But true.  And I am a truth seeker afterall.  I'm just finally seeking my truth.  It's much more unpleasant than I'd like it to be.  But I want to really lay this codependency to bed once and for all.  I'm so sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.  

So goodnight for now from the hotel room.  Signed.....me.  Just me.  

July 3, 2026

Man it's nice loving myself.  

It's nice protecting myself.  It's nice not having a person to test my own thoughts and feelings subconsciously against.  I have a thought, a feeling, a wondering, and I decide how to respond.  Lately, it's almost always with acceptance and compassion for what led me to the often complex array of feelings.

On the man front, a man I've been noticing in the gym finally talked to me last night.  If a man doesn't act creepy, but finds a way to talk to me for a minute, again after weeks of not talking, that's immediate points in my book.  The fact that it takes weeks and weeks, although the waiting is hard, just makes it better.  I'm so over anxious attachment style.  And who knows, maybe this man is that.  But I'll just have to see.  If we keep talking that is.  

The way he did it was he walked past me to go to another machine and held his phone out to show me what he was listening to and to ask what I was listening to.

It's interesting how someone looks so different up close than from across a room.  He had this overall look when I saw him week upon week, and then all of a sudden, there were his eyes.  There was a look.  He has happy eyes.  And a constant thoughtful expression.  He mentioned that he used to drive up and down the east coast and I immediately wondered if he was an account manager or something or maybe a sales rep.  Then a guy friend later suggested he was a truck driver.  I couldn't date a truck driver.  I feel the need to write assurances that I don't think truck drivers are beneath me, but in the sake of complete honesty, I'm not going to do that.  I'm going to write exactly what I'm thinking.  And it is that the type of man I'd want to spend time with would never be in that profession.  It says something about the way he looks at life.  That is a choice I wouldn't want to be a part of.  If he's driving a truck for a living, what other choices is he making that wouldn't align with me?  So what types of professions am I likelyt to be attracted to in a man?

A lawyer.  A doctor.  An entrepreneur.  A judge.  A politician.  A non-profit executive.  Maybe a cop.  

Shared passion and purpose is really important to me.  I know I want to be able to talk with a man who doesn't just support my passion and my deep love for people and systems and standing up for the vulnerable and for justice, but I want to talk with a man who is doing those things as well.  In some capacity.  If he's as gunghoe about it as me, he's probably doing it professionally to some degree.

Now, that being said, life may surprise me.

Either way, I love that this man was a MAN in that he had the guts to find an excuse to talk to me not in a creepy way.  

For quite some time now, I've noticed him.  I've noticed the confidence but seeming humility he walks around the gym with.  I've seen him talking to people and he has a really nice smile, and happy eyes.  Happy eyes are really important to me.  Last night, up close, I noticed that he has really dark and pretty eye lashes.  I've never thought that specific thing about a man.  Just interesting.  He has a nice voice.  And he's about a head taller than me, which I like.  He's fit, but doesn't wear clothes that are super tight or make his muscles pop out from under them.  I'm good either way.  I am curious what he looks like though under his shirt.  He appears lean and strong, but not too lean at all.  Just normally and nicely built.  He appears quite strong.  But again, not in a muslces popping out of the clothes kind of way.  Almost makes him more real.  More truly humble.  More like he's working out for himself, rather than for someone's approval.  I like that.  

Dating in midlife is sooooo complex.  But more and more, it's not.  Mainly because I'm just not overcomplicating it.  I feel what I feel.  I address those feelings.  I observe myself and how I feel in any given moment, and I love myself.  I approve of myself.  I protect myself.  That word protection....I deeply crave protection.  And I like that lately I'm protecting myself.  I'm having a gentle, understanding, forgiving, relationship with myself.  Only I know me all the way.  

It's so liberating.

June 27, 2026, 8:09 pm

I took myself on a date tonight.  I wanted to leave my house, but I really didn't want to go anywhere alone.  My son was busy.  My daughters were busy.  And almost all of my girlfriends are married.  One of the ones that isn't was working backstage for "Oklahoma".  Plus her daughter is in the play.  This friend has a degree in English.  And she's running for city council.  I'm running her PR campaign.  She's my kind of lady.  She's neurodivergent, and I suspect I am too.  Reading her thoughts and musings on Facebook feels a little bit like home.  I wonder if it's because her flow is so pure and straight from her heart.  I hope mine is too.  Her writing inspires me and intimidates me.  But every writer must write regardless of their own insecurities.  It's like breathing.  We'll die without writing.

So I took myself on a date.  

As I approached the West Side, I could see a firetruck sitting just outside the fire department spraying water from way high up down onto the Broad Street.  And there was a cop directing traffic at the light.  I thought I was going to have to turn, but he let us go on through.  He was just making sure we were going slow.  Then I saw runners.  It was some kind of run.  There were adults and children running.  The right lane of the road was their running path and it was blocked off with bright orange road cones.  I assume the water coming from the firetruck was the end of the race.  Someone was there taking pictures of each runner as they ran through it.  It was neat.  It gave me the warm fuzzies about my sweet little Cookeville community.  

Ooof....for some reason, typing the word "Cookeville" stung a little.  What is that?  Why do I feel that way?  I think I have seriously deep issues with identity.  Maybe it stung because I don't feel I belong as much as I wish I did.  I've always felt so different.  I need to just get a degree in philosophy so I can call myself a philosopher with some legitamacy.  Because I feel like one, and how many freaking philosophers are in Cookeville?  

I love Cookeville so much.  But I feel this sense of apartness.  I feel like I can never find my crowd.  I don't even know what my crowd really is.  Ugh.  This has got to be codependence.  Maybe that's why I cling to whatever man I'm dating.  Maybe the poor man becomes the embodiment of this ever elusive community I can't seem to find.  

This is why I write.  It's also why I like people like Sam.  And she's a woman at that!  A woman philosopher type??  Almost impossible to find in rural Tennessee. Maybe not though.  Maybe they are here, but hidden.  I do wonder if us women philosophers tend toward introversion.  Or maybe most philosophers do.  Doesn't matter if you're a man or a woman.  

I had Sam on my WOMAN podcast several months ago and I'll never forget something she said to me.  We were talking about ADHD and neurodivergence.  She said, "I've always felt........aware."  Oooof.  That hit me.  I felt so seen in that moment.  I too feel aware. 

So tonight, and for the foreseeable future, I'm going to take myself on dates and just be....aware.  I'm going to be aware of my surroundings.  That sheet of water pouring down from the firetruck extension thing (whatever that's called) was so beautiful.  In Cream City a family sat down to eat their icecream and the mom took a picture of these adorable boys.  "Say cheese!" she said.  They smiled so big.  After getting distracted by taking in the orders of the ladies in front of me, I heard the mom who took the picture talking about how she craved icecream when she was pregnant.  That prompted conversation from another mom in the group and they both ended up talking about morning sickness.  One said she was sick every day up until week sixteen.  They both said they lost weight the first few months of their pregnancies.  I stood there feeling all the reasons why I have a non-profit for women.  For some reason, our society acts like pregnancy doesn't affect a woman's life trajectory.  And if a woman dares to say it does, I kind of feel like she'll be seen as weak.  

I think feminism needs to be redefined.  

Let's put a price tag on pregnancy, childbirth, recovery, and children hanging off a mother's body for a good two to three years at a bare minimum.  Yes.  A price tag.  Let's pull dollars and sense (purposeful spelling) out of the experience of motherhood.  That is feminism.  Leave it to moms to get shit done.  Leave it to moms to leverage the emotional resilience they develop through the trials of motherhood to lead teams and communities.  The world needs a mother.

After I got my pralines and cream ice cream, I walked across the street to sit by the depot.  After a few minutes, I had to move to a bench under the sheltered part due to a lightning storm.  It was one of six benches, but it was just me.  I sat there.  Being aware.  Watching people.  People watching.  Then five young adults, or teenagers perhaps, came and sat near me on the other benches.  They had a dog named Aussie with them.  Pretty sure it was an Aussie.  It was a little awkward since I was alone and they all sat down together.  So, I broke the silence and asked them if they were from around here.  None of them were. They were with a campus organization called SOC - servants of Christ.  They were all here for a year or so working with the local chapter.  One of the young women was from Mexico.  One of the young men was from Albuquerque, New Mexico.  I told him I lived there a long time ago.  We talked briefly about the differences between their home churches and churches in the Bible belt.  The most talkative young man said churches were more conservative here.  He was careful to say it without criticism.  I appreciated that, but I bet the churches here are way more conservative than he let on.  

I tried to finish my ice cream fairly quickly so I could leave and they could have their ice cream without a weird forty-one year old woman on a date with herself getting uncomfortably close to getting into a discussion on church theology.  One of them is going to get a degree in psychology, so I bet he could have handled it.  But I finished and left.

It was a good date.  I like myself.  I should do this more often.  Oh, and last thing - I watched two documentaries on the history of NATO today, and I watched another one about the fall of the Soviet Union.  I mean....I feel like I'm a little different.  I hesitate to write that because it sounds snooty, but it's not that at all.  It's a little bit of insecurity.  The "awareness" feels like a heavy burden sometimes.  But Sam gets it.  And I know there are others.  But still, somehow this feels the safest.  This writing.  It's like a mirror into my own soul - terrifying, but so deeply calming.

I'm really enjoying documenting my inner world. It's a lot.  I feel like I'm a lot.  But I'm doing it.  Because I want to.  

So that's that.

June 27, 2026

I am dynamic.  I am diverse.  

I was just thinking about giving myself a little hair trim.  I've been cutting my own hair for years.  Mostly to save money.  I've always struggled to grow my hair really long because I start picturing some cute little bob cut.  And it's not so much the look of the bob as the practicality - quick to wash, quick to dry, clean looking, and put together.  

I was considering this cut this morning when I remembered a moment I had yesterday sitting with one of my girlfriends admiring her long, styled hair.  Every time I see her hair, I want it.  And I think to myself, "Mine will get longer eventually, and I'll be so happy I was patient and waited and finally got this long, beautiful hair."  But then, that darn bob comes to mind.  And that's when I realize I'm diverse.  

I've always battled with my different identities.  At least the ones I make up for myself.  Part of me is a braids-in-hair, strappy leather sandals, sun-kissed skin, walk in the woods barefoot (or in leather sandals) kind of gal.  The other is a wear black all the time, bob-cut, red fingernails, business type.  I do know this - I like extremism.  I'm not, or don't want to be, "normal".  I wish I did sometimes, but I'm always attempting to build an identity for myself.  Why is that?  

After this last attempt at dating, then breaking it off, I feel another deep, inner shift has happened in me.  I feel these shifts from time to time.  They are powerful forces of change that happen deep within my existence that no one can see but me.  I guess I hope that those around me will be affected by these shifts and that I will become a bit more useful in the world each time.  So what was this last shift?  Liberation.  I took the liberty to decide this love was not the one for me.  I felt bad, but I felt liberated.  I could in fact choose me.  I could tell it was the beginning of a major shift.

I love freedom.  I want to give it to everyone - be who you are.  Love yourself!  Know your purpose in the world right where you're at, right now.  Don't let anyone tell you you don't matter or that you don't have an incredible ability to leave the world a better place than you found it.  And yet, I don't feel free.  I feel constantly bound to shoulds and should nots.  Where do those even stem from?  The collective agreements of the world I guess.  There are so many collective agreements.  Ugh.  It's why the world wars.

What about my agreement with myself?  Who do I say I am?  What do I think is right?  And what do I think is wrong?  What are my core values and what am I willing to do or not do to live by them?  

Oh sweet liberty.

I give it to myself.  I give myself liberty to freaking BE.  To exist in the experiences, the facts, of my life.  I can't go back and change anything.  I can only reflect, and take the pieces of my life that feel like they were picked up by an F5 tornado, spun wildly around, and flung in all directions, and decide what to do now.  

What to do now.

Well, for now, I'll write.  Brutal truth.  Brutally reflection of my existence.  What has it done to me?  How has it shaped me?  And who do I decide in my liberty to be?

June 26, 2026

I guess I'll start with my first identity - my name.  Jill Marianne Edwards.  My first label.  

And now?  What is my identity?  How might one label me?  Alone.  In my house.  Definitely in my thoughts.  And feelings.  I almost just went back and changed the double spaces after each period to single spaces because apparently that's the new way to do it.  But I'm doing it my way.  I like the old way and I'm tired of things changing.  I'm boldly stepping into the new me.  I might even do a triple space.   Dad would be proud - I'm an activist standing up for the old way of the double space.  

I broke up with a guy I've been dating for about two weeks.  We've been "talking" as the kids say these days for about six weeks, but only official, and to my shame, Facebook official, for two.  Why did I plaster it on Facebook?  I guess I was trying that hard to finally let go of my past and really find what I was looking for.  And what am I looking for?  Well, I'm not sure, but here's what I know after this breakup of a two week relationship - I choose me.  I choose Jill Marianne Edwards.

I want to date her for a while.  Get to know her.  Maybe she is an activist after all.  And you know what else?  I might just be a Democrat.  I mean, I don't know though.  I was raised a Republican, but I "lean left" as they say.  But I "lean right" as they also say.  Darn the middle.  I want to run for public office one day and I don't know if I can get elected in the middle.  Deep down, I do believe I can though.  People want peace.  We want unity.  Even people who say they don't, do.  Otherwise, why is it so bothersome when someone disagrees with them?  Ahhh.....see?  Logic is easy.