Faith, Hope, Courage


Between managing my two blogs and serving (see my tweets @SaraMahlet) I am taking time to rest not only physically but emotionally. I share various posts so I can give others a chance in the spotlight. I want to encourage people that things do improve and not give up trying.

Several people let me know that they read my Facebook posts and even my blogs. Many didn’t realize I had a lot to say through the written word. I want to emphasize subjects that need to be recognized globally. Give awareness to those linked with mental illness and other situations. It is not a taboo but a reality. Depression, anxiety, and body image to name a few. I get emotional about people who are snubbed for their personal beliefs or preferences. When I say blessings, it is for everyone Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Judaism, and Buddhists to name a few. I mean EVERYONE!

Since being in Ethiopia I have seen things that make me think twice about society. In my imagination, I see Iron Man, Captain America, Batman, Wonder Woman visiting these children and showing the world cares for the forgotten. What about Messi and his football chums these children would just feel awe seeing their heroes in person. Here is a leap of faith… The Rock, John Cena, and the WWE would get a royal welcome from their fans here.

Yes, this is the princess asking the world to remember these people risking their lives daily to change their own lives and their families. I could have been them if I didn’t have the opportunities I was given.

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Faith, Hope, Courage

Sharing:  Celebrating Rosh Hashanah With Mulder And Scully


Happy New Year readers!

Sara

The X-FilesRecently, over brunch with my old friend from high school, Caitlyn, I found myself blathering on about my love for the show The X-Files. It had been a favorite of mine as a teen when it first aired, and I’d just started re-watching it, obsessively, during a week-long “stay-cation”. I had other plans for…

https://thoughtcatalog.com/joanna-greenberg/2017/09/celebrating-rosh-hashanah-with-mulder-and-scully/

Sharing:  Celebrating Rosh Hashanah With Mulder And Scully

Sharing: 25 Things You Need To Do To Heal Your Emotional Body And Release Subconscious Negativity From Your Life


I like these suggestions!

Sara 

God & Man1. Identify how your pain serves you. Nobody consistently self-sabotages without reason. The patterns and habits that you feel “stuck” in meet some kind of need. If you can’t let go of negativity, it’s because you are secretly using it for something. 2. Work on your ability to visualize. The only way to…

https://thoughtcatalog.com/brianna-wiest/2017/09/25-things-you-need-to-do-to-heal-your-emotional-body-and-release-subconscious-negativity-from-your-life/

Sharing: 25 Things You Need To Do To Heal Your Emotional Body And Release Subconscious Negativity From Your Life

Things I miss. 11.14.14


Things I Miss.

Things I miss From the Northwest

Written from the Point of View of the Five Senses

By Sara Gamachew

November 14, 2014

Some things that I really miss from the States are the aromatic scent of candles.

They can really make life worth waking up to.

I also miss the various scents coming from Febreeze and Glade air sprays.

These simple things can make any room smell like a lavender garden, a midsummer breeze, a fall holiday dinner, or a peppermint candy scent for the winter.

I miss the taste of sweet potatoes mashed and mixed with a dash of cinnamon and butter. That is one of my favorite memories of Thanksgiving dinners as a child.

I miss the mouthwatering taste of nachos with a zesty avocado and sour cream dip. When I was pregnant, I watched my diet and splurged on Ranch dressing. Than a few months later I was back to Blue Cheese, Thousand Island, and Honey Mustard dips with just about anything I could find. When I wanted something sweet there was a variety of junk food, I would crave Gourmet Jelly Beans, Cotton Candy, Candy Corn, and of course ice cream/frozen yogurt with a variety of toppings. Yum that just makes my mouth water thinking about it. To wash down all that yummy food I would be drinking Dr. Pepper, Mr. Pibb, or Wild Cherry Pepsi. I would go the healthy route with Fruit Punch, Raspberry Lemonade, Strawberry Lemonade, or anything sweet that I could find. If I wanted to go the warmer route with drinks, I am a tea person: Chamomile, Chai, and Fruit Flavored tea to name a few. Than during the holidays I go for Peppermint Mochas, Chai Tea Lattes, and of course my favorite the Carmel Apple Cider. Good ole Apple Cider does the trick when I need to be thawed out from the winter weather.

I love the feel of sand between my feet when I walk down the neighborhood beach. It reminds me of my childhood running up and down that same beach as a kid in elementary school. As I got older, I loved walking down the streets of downtown. I would smell the sea air from the Puget Sound, listen to the merchants surrounding me in the market place, and just marvel at all the buildings sprouting up in various parts of town. I valued the chance to walk up and down the mall venues that would call to me in various parts of town. On one end, you can see Nike-town displaying the latest athletic shoes and then on the other end you can see Nordstrom and Macy are displaying countless fashionable clothes and accessories.

I miss these just a few things from the Northwest. You can find any of these things in any part of the United States. I just picked the one area that I can remember from the places that I grew up.

Things I miss. 11.14.14

11/22/13


Dream girl
Dream girl (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Dream a Little Dream

By Sara Gamachu

Friday, November 22, 2013

When I was married (and even when I was single,) I used to watch talk shows, reality shows, and anything that could keep my mind off my ordinary life.  One of my favorite was the Ellen Show, Oprah Winfrey show, and Extreme Makeover Home Edition.  I cried when the EMHE went off the air.  I loved watching the episodes when a lucky viewer (or member of the audience) was chosen to get a prize of some sort.  On the Ellen show, it was some lucky person who got a car or some coveted item that everyone applauded over.  While over on Oprah, it was an inspirational guest or some random recipient of Oprah’s Favorite item of the week.  Finally, on Extreme Makeover Home Edition Ty and his crew chose a family or community to have their entire home remodeled.  I used to cry along with all of America (and the world) as these people were receiving the chance of a lifetime.  I am not talking about 15 minutes of fame.  Every one of them was recognized for doing something that no one else could do.  Sure, they could have been nominated by someone, but that is not my point.  J  I used to think perhaps one day that could happen to me.  Sure, I thought of that in my mind while watching in my in-laws living room because we only had two of the local stations on our television at home.  Nevertheless, it gave me a reason to dream during those tough days.  Now I would be surprised if any of those people even looked at my blog.  Sure, I still dream about being that lucky person picked out of the audience.  Only now I can at least do it from an environment that says dreams can come true….if you just dream a little.  Chuckles maybe someday it might happen.  I am sure my son would watch and excitedly point out his mom from the crowd.  I could hear him saying, “Hey that’s my mom on TV!”  I would be crying because I never thought that could ever happen to me.  A single mom who just dreamed and wrote out her feelings.

Aside

Final NaBloPoMo Entry


Never Belonged

By Sara Gamachu

Friday, November 22, 2013

I have always felt like I did not belong.  I could not fit in to any group as a kid.  People (in my personal and professional life) would be afraid that I would do something stupid or not correctly.  It has taken me 3 decades and a lot of experience to realize that I truly did not belong.  I did not fit in to any clique or adolescent group while I was in school.

Now that I think about it… my first taste of peer pressure was in 3rd grade when I begged my mom to get me a jean jacket so I could fit in with a group of girls in my elementary school.  Ah, yes 3rd grade when my entire life changed.  The fall of my 4th grade year, I was plucked from the innocent public school system into the big dogs of public school.  It was the year I learned my first curse word (being a Pastor’s kid that is a huge mistake).  By 6th grade, I flipped someone the bird on a dare.  I can barely remember the other kid looking at me in shock.  The kind of look like what have I done to deserve that?  6th grade was also the year that I was introduced to the junior high bullies.  Problem is that they looked just like me…  African American girls who called me names because I was very slender.  It was after that horrific year that I stopped using the word skinny and referred to my body as slender.

By 7th grade, my parents chose to put me in a private school.  Being in a religious environment would heal the scars of 6th grade bullies.  I vaguely remember those 2 years.  The parts that briefly come to mind were trying to fit in with my classmates.  We were the first seventh and 8th grade class at the school.  With that honor, those 2 years were filled with the greatest classmates a girl could have.  For two brief years, we were all awkward teens just trying to deal with the world.  To this day, I had a classmate actually ask me if I was all right.  I remember that it was the last time I felt wanted or at ease.

By the time, I hit high school things changed again.  I went to a different secondary school than my friends so that meant I had to start over.  My parents describe the next 2 years as my rebellious stage.  Yes, I was in an elite Christian school…but I was a teenager bent loose on being a normal teen.  That meant I wanted the whole high school experience prom, homecoming, and the whole shebang.  Sadly, that is not what happened.  Let us just say I barely made it without by the skin of my teeth academic wise.  I was a proud member of the “I Hate My Parents/Dad club.”  Yep I put my parents through adolescent hell for those first 2 years of high school.  By the time, my junior year came my parents thought homeschooling would be the solution.  Yeah like being away from the cliques and crowds would help.  It was that year that I decided to teach myself the math that I continuously failed at understanding the previous 2 years.  Ah, Algebra meets thy doom.  By the time, my senior year came my parents put me back into public school at an alternative high school.  Now may I say that I actually blossomed my final year of traditional schooling.  For once, I did not have to fight to fit in.  All of my classmates (including myself) were considered what the traditional system would label as misfits.  To be blunt the learning scale was so watered down anybody could have passed.  To the shock to my family and myself I ended the year not only with a 4.0 GPA…I also received great achievement awards including scholarships to the local technical college in my neighborhood.  I went from being a zero to a most liked student.  I was so lucky to have some of the greatest educators who (in my opinion) saw the unknown skills that I had under my educational belt.  It was that year that gave birth to my desire to be a great writer.  Sure I have had teacher’s compliment me on my journal writing in the past… but for the first time I was part of the newspaper club at my school.  For me that was the closest I could get at being part of the popular group.  Yes I final belonged!

Now fast forward a few years.  I had attended two separate colleges searching for that belonging feeling once again.  It was during my second year, I found I was good at working with students with special needs.  Ironic…a girl who barely made it through the school system wanting to help pave the way for kids who were labeled for not belong in their educational careers.  Yes, you would think I had arrived in the sphere of belonging.  I graduated from my program dreams of being a Paraprofessional/Teacher’s Assistant ahead of me.

I soon realized that I could not afford to get my Associates of Arts Degree so I entered the working world.  Let me briefly tell you a few of my job positions that I took on the next few years.  1) Daycare provider, 2) McDonald’s crewmember, 3) Customer Service Assistant/Representative, and 4) Office assistant (in different genres).

It was somewhere around in the 2000s when I hit an exhausting wall when it came to belonging.  I had just lost my job at a very élite home electronics retail company.  I had given almost 4.5 years of my professional life to a job that when I thought I was at the highest of my “belonging” in my life.  It has taken me years to realize those years would help me in my personal life.

It was in 2008 that I met my ex-husband.  I was a girl next door who fell head over heels in love with a Southern person who happened to be in the military.  The next few years are honestly a blur.  What I do know was by the time I got out of that relationship I was nothing like the girl I used to be.  Not only did I not feel like I belonged.  Of my both self-confidence and self-esteem was shattered.  I was put down verbally and emotionally.  It was horrible.  It did not even compare to the bullying I had endured in 6th grade.

Now it is 2013 and I am a single mother to an adorable little boy (who means the world to me).  I am literally starting my life over from scratch.  *I have been told by a former friend that my ex-husband has vowed to make my life miserable because I chose to leave an unhappy and unhealthy relationship.  Yes, I, Sara, made the decision to leave a verbally and emotionally abusive relationship.  The same family members that I had once turned on are now the ones who are helping me to rebuild my personal life.  To them I would be forever grateful.  I have friends and family around the globe who reached out to me telling me, “Yes you do belong!”

*On an interesting note, this friend (who will remain nameless) was someone I actually thought had accepted me during my marriage.  One of those people who actually made me feel like I belonged.

 

Final NaBloPoMo Entry

Day 15 of NaBloPoMo: Courage


Courage.
You usually don’t hear that word a lot. For me it means standing up even when everybody is sitting. When I was young I learned to give the finger to someone on a dare. In junior high I was the kid who couldn’t tell a lie (“Yes he did do that”.). It wasn’t until high school when I shed my good girl image. I decided no more telling the truth. I was going to look out for me and step on anyone in my way (in my case my parents pure teenage rebel girl). In college I was able to decide what was it I was actually good at. After that my memory is kind of fuzzy. No not from drugs or booze more like putting everyone else before myself. I was a people pleaser. The day I told my ex-husband (some very colorful words) “You don’t care how I feel!” That should have been a warning that something was about to happen. Days later I gathered up as much courage as I had packed a weeks worth of clothes for my son and I…and I left. I was scared to death that he would find me and take away my precious son. Yes that was the good, the bad, and the uh oh I am in trouble folks. I was living a life that even I couldn’t recognize myself.

Now these days I look at life differently. Everyone tells me how proud they are of me. What they don’t know is fear is a pain and it can come at you at anytime.

Day 15 of NaBloPoMo: Courage

Day 12 of NaBloPoMo: Doting Parent


I had a wonderful time talking with my son today.  He was showing me the new movies.  I am so glad he gets to watch Disney movies with his dad.  I loved hearing him talk to me.  He was saying “Mom!” like he wanted to make sure I was watching or listen to him.  No matter what I made sure he knew I was there.  Thank you Google for making this possible.

 

 

 

I have always wanted what was best for my son.  I wanted to make sure he knew that he was number one in my life.  When we first moved into our apartment  I did my best to make sure he felt comfortable.  I wasn’t a natural cook, yet I knew how to make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  On the weekends I was happy to rent a movie (thanks to Redbox) and relax with our dinner on the couch.  We watched Aladdin, Toy Story 2, Bob the Builder, and Finding Nemo together. 

 

Doting parent
Doting parent (Photo credit: euphro)

 

 

 

Day 12 of NaBloPoMo: Doting Parent

Day 11 of NaBloPoMo: Sara in Wonderland Series


English: Alice In Wonderland
English: Alice In Wonderland (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I thought I would do some posts about how I feel like my life is similar to the movie/story Alice in Wonderland.  I have felt like my life has decided to go backwards or a mixture of past and present.  It is humorous actually.  See my parents and I came to this country when I was very young.  So I pretty much grew up in America.  Its funny when I hear people tell stories about how their family came on the Mayflower or through Ellis Island.  I couldn’t really relate to that.  I have had people mispronounce my name in so many ways.  It started when I was in junior high all the way to when I became and adult.  As I got older I decided to go by nicknames because it got harder for people to say my name.  By the time I got my first full-time job it got easier.  It was the first time that I was identified by my name and proudly answered to it.  Its funny I worked for that company for almost 5 years.  It was the best job I had ever had.  It gave me the chance to be a person without worrying about my family ancestry.  Plus my mom loved coming by and hanging out with my co-workers.  My mom was so proud of me to get a job that I really liked and I stuck to it.  Yeah those were good days.  I finally had a point that I felt like I meant something to someone… even if that someone was customers and sales staff.  Yes I was a Customer Service Assistant at one of the biggest home electronic stores in the Northwest.

 

Now you might ask me…where does the backwards feeling start.  Well as I grew up my family (which was my parents and I then) started churches for the Ethiopian Community.  My father had come to America to continue his education.  My mother, who had been her before as a student, and I came along with him.  We basically started over without really starting in this new country.  My ex-husband occasionally would remind me that my family was rich and they could help us out.  I wondered where he got that idea from.  See while I was working I got my parents a new T.V. for Christmas to replace the old one we used to have growing up.  My father wasn’t so sure about me getting this big television.  I told him that I wanted them to have something nice.   The old one had been with us since I was a kid in the 80s.  I figured it was time for them to upgrade a little.  I think my dad was actually happy and just didn’t know how to show it.  Here his daughter buys them a television after all the years.  These days my dad thinks I am pretty high maintenance  I laugh and say who me… never.  I may not be able to read people’s body language well, but when it comes to customer service I could tell the consumers from the servers.  Now as I was saying my ex-husband thought we were wealthy people.  We lived in our own house and took care of each other.  What he didn’t realize was I didn’t have an easy childhood.  I had changed schools from 3rd grade until I graduated from high school.  I can brag that I have been in public, private, and home-school.  I was a scholarship student the private school years.  My parents worked hard to make sure my brother and I got an education.  Both my parents had regular jobs (to which they have retired from) while counseling and preaching to the Ethiopian community.  Sure I have shared them with kids and adults alike.  So now that I am an adult I kind would love to have an ordinary life.  Right now here is where the backwards starts…..

 

To be continued

 

Day 11 of NaBloPoMo: Sara in Wonderland Series

Cry


Crying..
Crying.. (Photo credit: Anders Ljungberg)

 

There are days I just want to cry. I cry because of my innocence lost in one day.  I cry for the little boy looking for his mommy.  I cry for the family that thought they lost a relative.  There are days I feel like Alice from Alice in Wonderland.  Hmm it just happen to be one of the movies my son liked to watch.  Right now I am at the end where she is trying to escape.  My nightmares are so real that I have to remind myself to wake up.  It’s a good thing I have my family to catch me when I emotionally fall.

 

Cry