It’s Here! Corey’s Book, Blessed, Beautiful Now, is Available on Amazon!
Hey there Nostalgia Seekers! It’s finally here!
Corey’s new book, Blessed, Beautiful Now, is a lovingly curated collection of personal essays from her Everyday Nostalgia series, and it is on sale now at Amazon at a very special, limited-time price!
Blessed, Beautiful Now gives readers the opportunity to follow Corey’s heartfelt journey as she navigates the complexities of life after divorce. Her raw and relatable stories are full of emotion, inspiration, and insight. Corey’s writing blends storytelling and practical lessons to provide a compelling, emotional, and powerful platform to encourage women to celebrate their own blessed, beautiful now. Continue reading “Blessed, Beautiful Now Released on Amazon.com!”
My daughter, Zoey, rests her forehead against the Plexiglas pane of the plane window beside her. Outside, the air is frigid, causing each tiny breath she exhales to leave a piece of itself behind. As if by magic—and much to Zoey’s delight—small, white halos crystallize before her eyes, only to fade as quickly as they’ve appeared.
This simple wonder keeps her occupied, helping the minutes pass, until the engine of the plane rumbles, announcing that our departure will soon take place.
At the sound, Zoey turns to me, her eyes dancing.
“We’re almost there!” she announces in a voice loud enough that surely all the other passengers can hear.
I can’t help but smile.
“Really?” I ask, pointing to the unmoving ground outside the window. “How’s that possible? We haven’t even left yet!”
She gives me a look that suggests I have absolutely no clue what I’m talking about. Continue reading “Week 52: Back to the Heart of it All | Everyday Nostalgia”
The dim light of early day finds me standing in my bedroom, performing what has become an unfortunate morning ritual of mine.
I turn left, then right, and then twist around completely and glance over my shoulder. I feel myself frown as I let out an audible sigh.
I turn my body around one last time, determined to not give up just yet. I try straightening my back to make myself a little taller. I tuck my shirt into the front of my pants, and then, seconds later, I untuck it. I put my hands on my waist and angle myself sideways. I shift my weight from one hip and to the other. Finally, as a last resort, I squint, hoping that if I blur my vision, I’ll feel a little bit better about myself.
But I don’t.
Because staring back at me, in the mirror that hangs over my closet door, is a reflection I simply can’t stand: I see a girl who, just like me, looks completely defeated.
It appears neither of us like what we see. Continue reading “Week 49: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall | Everyday Nostalgia”
Dear sweet girl —
There we were, walking down the hall to our apartment, your feet moving slower than usual, your hand tightly gripping my own.
Normally the journey to our front door after school involves you dancing and twirling so that your hands are in the air instead of wrapped up in mine. Normally you are chattering away, singing a silly song, happily laughing as your smile casts extra light into the fading day.
Yet there you were, quiet and close beside me, doing none of these things.
I tell myself you are tired, but I know better: because I can read between your lines—the ones that I’ve grown to know over the past six years—I know something else is going on.
I stop walking, and your stride stops, too. I kneel down in front of you, and when we’re face to face, our eyes meet, and I look at you, open and waiting.
Because I know that’s all it ever takes, that simple acknowledgement that I’m here, ready to listen, and, just like I expected, you finally speak. Continue reading “Week 48: Be Brave, Little One—And I’ll Promise To Do the Same | Everyday Nostalgia”
It’s 7:48 in the evening, and my daughter, Zoey, and I are almost finished with her bedtime routine.
I close the chapter book we are currently reading, set it on her nightstand, and turn off her lamp.
Darkness fills the room, and I feel the bed shift beneath us as Zoey finds her way over to me. She lifts my arm and settles into the spot on my chest she has come to claim as her own.
“Know what time it is?” I ask.
“One of the best parts of my day,” Zoey replies. “I’ll go first.” Continue reading “Week 45: I’m failing at dinner—but not as a parent | Everyday Nostalgia”