Alyse Neibaur's Blog

Four years ago I met the love of my life. My soul mate. My life partner. My best friend. It started on a dating app that neither of us...

I absolutely hate it when I have to think about my dead mother and be smacked in the face with a very obvious choice I don't want to...

I've been 39 for just about a month now, and it already feels like a lot longer than that. So much has happened this past month,...

I took my newly adult child to the airport this morning for their first solo trip across the country to visit their grandparents and have...

I'm giving myself permission to have my mid-life crisis.

You know how yesterday I was like, "I'm not going to write memoir anymore!" Well, it turns out I might have lied already, and all I can do is laugh at myself but also be totally jazzed by this new idea.

Before I hopped into the shower with my husband this morning, I said to him, "I need a new project".

I know that I do need something to work on to feel happy. I need that hobby, that outlet, that moment of creation and dreaming up ideas. I love ideas and I always have way too many of them. Saying this to him wasn't necessarily a plea for "help me come up with an idea" but rather more of a "help me carve out some time today to dedicate to coming up with the right idea".

Immediately while we were in the shower the idea of a poetry book to commemorate being 39 this year, and going into my 40s in 2026 popped into my mind, and my beautiful husband expounded on that idea to include happy memories throughout my first 39 years. I began crying immediately, but it was only because the idea was so incredibly beautiful to me, and it was so touching that he was able to bring up some stories I had shared with him over the last few years of happy moments with the family members I've lost, where I grew up, and even with my kids when they were little.

It's perfect.

And it's still a memoir, but it's a positive and uplifting memoir, and something I can pass down to my children to show them that not everything was bad, in fact, there was a lot of beauty in our lives.

From there the idea snowballed in my mind, and I couldn't get to my computer fast enough to start thinking this through and outlining it, or writing down ideas on what it could look like.

It's also brought to mind how negative memoirs tend to be, and I've read quite a few. There is usually a message of hope, because we as humans really like relating to the experiences of others, and also knowing that if they can survive, so can we, and not just survive, but also thrive. We like the idea of being able to thrive, but again, so many memoirs are based on this traumatic event in our lives, and how we overcame it. We focus on those negative experiences, and I know I can't write like that anymore, at least not for a good long while, if ever again.

When my husband suggested positive stories from my 39 years on this earth, it felt so beautiful and perfect. I immediately thought this could be a good exercise for me, too, to reframe my memories and remind myself that it wasn't all bad. I can heal in a different way, a more positive way, and remember the parts of my family, and my life, that I loved and miss.

There's so much I can do with this:

Happy memories with my dead family members

Happy memories of my hometown and being young

Happy memories growing up with my bff

Happy memories of becoming a mother and raising each of my children

Happy memories of finding real love for the first time at 35, and making a life together.

Happy memories of becoming a stepmother

And really, there is so much in between all of that, because I've discovered so much about myself in these 39 years.

I want to talk about my love of nature, and falling in love with the ocean.

I want to talk about my thoughts on new places and experiences that I've had, as well as the countless hobbies I've dabbled in.

There's so much that could go into something like this, and I don't even know if it would be considered a memoir, or more autobiographical, but this idea brings me a lot of joy knowing that it could be something I would be very proud of and happy to share with my children as they grow. All four of them.

In my last post, I talked about how garbage my life has been up to this point, but that's not entirely true, it never is. We tend to dwell on the negative as a survival instinct to keep ourselves from getting hurt again. There's a big reason why we remember the terrible things that happen to us, and yes my life was a lot of bad with a lot of death and grief, but what I want for this project, this book, is to focus on everything in between. All the beautiful moments that somehow got pushed aside in my mind.

It will be healing in a new way.

It will be fulfilling in the ways I'm looking for.

It's the type of creative outlet I need, and on my 40th birthday, I would love to have it ready to share with my friends and family and celebrate that big milestone in my life.

What do you think?

I imagine it to be a mixed bag of poetry, essays, short stories, and even fiction. I hope parts are funny, and maybe some parts are sad, but mostly it's the beauty I see in my life and the thoughts I've had throughout my time being alive.

40 years is a big thing, and my life has been insane, honestly, in both bad and good ways. I want to share my stories, however they manifest themselves. Totally out of order, and in all different forms. Painters do this with mixed media in their paintings all the time, and that's what this feels like. A mishmash of stories told in all different forms, all together in one bound book of the beautiful moments from my 39 years.

I like it.

If you also like this idea, stick around, because I might start some kind of mini-blog-series where I talk about it as I go along. I love writing and sharing, so why not?!

Thanks, friends.

The last couple of weeks have felt a little mid-life-crisis-y for me, and of course, I wouldn't be me if I didn't want to talk about it and share every aspect of it.

I've been talking to my husband a lot. He's my best friend in every way possible. I like to call him my "best favorite human". It's a little bit of an inside joke based on the memes we always share back and forth throughout the day when we're not together. Talking to him is so easy. We always ramble at each other, and I know we both love it. It's another one of those differences in our new life, vs. the old lives we had before we knew one another. And it is through talking to him over the last couple weeks, and honestly having multiple breakdowns, that he's enabled me to discover what the hell is wrong with me.

I don't truly believe it's a midlife crisis. What I do think is that it's me finally taking a deep breath, looking back at EVERYTHING I've been through to be right where I am today, with this beautiful life I have, and realizing just how much life took from me before I ever had a chance to try to be "normal". I'll be turning 40 next year, and although I'm not at all scared (I'm actually excited) to be in my 40s, it's still a big enough number for me to look back and realize that the first half of my life was absolute trash, and I deserved better.

I should never have had to fight as hard as I have to be loved, valued, or shown compassion and empathy.

But that has been the life I've led.

As I've tried to make time to sit and write another memoir, I've realized a few things:

I'm putting pressure on myself to make something out of the garbage life I was shoved into.

I DO NOT want to live in my trauma anymore.

Everyone should have treated me better!

I am not a bad person.

Nothing I went through was because I made bad choices.

My life, my personality, and my traits are all reactionary evolutions of how I was treated, abandoned, neglected, manipulated, gaslit, and abused.

And this next one is big:

It's not my responsibility to fix the mess they created.

The people I'm referring to are my original family. My mom and dad. My aunts and uncles. Mainly those first two though. They screwed me up irreparably and at almost 40 I'm still trying to make sense of it all, and "fix" what they broke.

My first memoir was almost an accident. Writing was how I released my pain, and how I talked about it because I had no one other than the pages of my journals to listen to me.

By accident, I knew people who could help me edit and publish it.

When it was ready for the world, I had shaped such a message that I became a missionary for the opioid epidemic and an advocate for awareness and change.

Then I had social media and friends who appreciated how "Raw" and "Real" I was about my story, and I think I loved shocking people with what I had been through because no one knew me that way or understood what I had been through. Suddenly everyone in my circle's eyes were open to the shitshow of my life and I was finally getting the support I needed because I was being very open about it all.

It was all a very positive experience. It made me feel like I had a purpose, and that purpose was to make sure this didn't happen to anyone else or help change the narrative for other people going through what I had been through. I wanted to give others a voice, like what I was finding in myself. I wanted to give people a safe space to talk about it, and find others to relate to because I know how terribly lonely grief and trauma are.

Then the pandemic happened and everything came to a crashing end, for all of us.

Everything I was doing stopped, and I didn't know how to keep going with the momentum I'd had prior to the shutdown that happened in March 2020.

I had written a second book, that would never officially be published, nor have the support or audience my first book had. My dreams started dying, my purpose was gone, and I felt empty. These were very familiar feelings to me, and I hated them.

I've asked myself countless times, what would have happened with my books if the pandemic had never happened? Would I have kept up the momentum, or given up and moved on organically?

What the pandemic showed me, or at least what I see now, is that it was just another thing that was so drastically out of my control, and all I could do was react. The pandemic wasn't my fault, just like the actions of my dead family weren't my fault, but I had to survive it all and find a way to keep going.

Honestly, it was getting exhausting.

I am still exhausted.

Regardless of everything that happened after the pandemic started, my divorce is mainly what I'm referring to here, all of that still happened. I wrote books, until the pandemic ripped the rug out from under me, and I stopped. I stopped because I had to be a fulltime mom again, and help my children navigate all the scary uncertainty in their lives and give them some kind of structure. We all did. That was the name of the game in 2020 and 2021.

Once my life started becoming more normal again, with a new love, a new stable home, and now a new career, I began wondering if I could do it again. Could I write another memoir and start over, and get back what I lost?

The answer to that is yes. I absolutely could, and I was well on my way to it, but here's what I've noticed and why I won't be doing that after all:

I am living inside my trauma. Trauma that was thrust upon me without my consent in various forms, and I resent all of it. I have found myself getting angry again, scared again, lost again, lonely again, and in so much pain I can't bear it.

That is called PTSD or C-PTSD (the C stands for complex).

I have worked so hard the last few years to understand my PTSD, a very real diagnosis with very real impacts on me and everyone around me, and learn to cope and lead a more normal life that I can emotionally sustain, and the truth is, it's really difficult to do that when I'm so far in the trenches (so to speak) while trying to write another book and regain what I thought I had.

What I am in now, after two long weeks of big emotions, and long conversations with my best favorite human (my husband), is acceptance.

"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference" - Reinhold Niebuhr

A very apt quote for what I'm experiencing right now.

I can not change the choices my family made.

I had a moment to help the world find change, and I was courageous about sharing my story with a wide audience and impacting quite a few people, more than I had anticipated, with my story.

I shared compassion and showcased what it took to have empathy for people we don't understand.

I am very proud of what I accomplished.

I wrote a memoir. I had it published. I did book events, signings, and speaking events. I reached out to teens and worked with them to understand that they're not alone. I impacted a lot of different ages and backgrounds.

I did well.

What my husband helped me discover is that my first book had its moment, and I had mine. It served its purpose in my life and helped me heal in a way I never would have without writing it and sharing it.

Anything beyond that, I've also discovered, is forcing me back into trauma I don't want to relive. I've done enough reliving and retelling of that story, and I'm super duper ready now to live the next half of my life accepting what I couldn't change, and living the life I've always deserved.

I deserve a chance to move on from that pain.

I am going to allow myself to move on from that pain.

I can not change the choices my family made, and it will likely always haunt me, but I get to choose now how I spend the next half of my life and it's not going to be trying to rewrite the narrative of what they did with theirs.

Through all of this I have gained something very special, and that is the sense that I am finally in control of the life I'm living. I get a say.

I get to be different for my children and not what my parents were for me.

I get to love this husband of mine fiercely in the way he deserves to be loved, and in the way I want to show him love.

I get to choose my hobbies, not because I'm lost, confused, or broken, but because I have time to do something that brings me joy and gives me a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction.

If I write, it's because I want to write, not because I have to share this horrible lifetime of trauma because no one will listen. Actually, a lot of people listened, and now I get to realize and hold onto the fact that I have so many people in my life who care about me and my family and spend time traveling to visit them.

I get another chance at a life I always deserved, but never had.

Whatever I do from this point on, it's going to be with a grateful heart.

What I won't do anymore, is sit in the trauma and continue to hurt myself. I don't have enough time left for that, and I hope this message is inspiring to at least one person.

It's not easy. Not at all. I still probably need more therapy, and will likely seek that out when I decide I have time for it, but it's not impossible.

Ok, I've said what I needed to say.

I'm not going to write another memoir, at least not until I've had more time to understand what I've gone through and have a therapist on standby to get me through it. Both are going to be necessary if I ever do this again.

What I will do, is think of something else that will help scratch this itch I have to create. I have many ideas. I can say that A. Diamond Books is not going anywhere. What I write will just fit into a different genre, but I'm not sure what genre that is yet. My love of books isn't dead, and I will always be thankful to my mother for instilling that in me. Books are so magical and wonderful, and I will always advocate for a world full of books, and a book in each child's hands.

We are lucky to live in a world where stories matter.

Books are empowering, and one of the most beautiful treasures I think this world has.

It's definitely not something I'm going to give up.

It's time for something different. That's all.

It has not been easy trying to decide what all of this is going to look like as I move forward with more books and trying to engage with literally anyone on social media. I decided this morning I need to simplify everything. I've been getting discouraged and have been pretty close to telling myself to just give up.

The thing is, I don't want to give up.

I don't mind having some trial and error while I decide what aspects of writing books are important to me. I got hung up on Substack for a while, and have decided it is not my platform of choice. At least, not right now while I'm in this gray area of trial and error. My opinion on Substack as a platform for writers is that you must know what you're writing about, and be dedicated to the topic, even if it's a vague topic. I enjoyed getting to know the various aspects of the platform, and I liked its all-encompassing nature of being able to post to one publication in many forms like video, podcast, notes, or blogs. It's an awesome setup!

But I'm all over the place with my ideas, and it did not help to compare myself to everyone else's journeys, which was what I caught myself doing.

There is still so much about writing that I simply want to do for myself.

So I'm taking my energy back to my website! I mean, I pay for this thing, after all, I really should lean on it more, and build it up. I want it to be home to all that I do, which, of course, is the point of having a website.

I must say thank you for being patient with me through this transition that has honestly spanned the last 6+ years. I'm still learning what aspects of myself I want to carry forward.

The silver lining here is that I am starting to find a rhythm.

I've been able to consistently post videos of my readings every single week, and have even kept up with the recordings. Chapters 4 and 5 are in progress.

I've learned which platforms I like to be on. Instagram for the most part, tried and true.

I'm developing habits and rituals so I can complete my next book, and I'm excited about this because it will enable me to keep writing books and setting them free. I really enjoy the process of creating.

All this trial and error on various platforms has helped me learn a lot about which platforms will work for me for future projects I'm planning, like my next podcast! And I want to involve other people, do interviews, and make it a community effort.

Although everything I'm doing is shifting frequently, it's all becoming a more cohesive image.

Again, thank you for being patient with me.

If you read this, please leave a comment or a heart. The little hearts make my day.

I was standing in my kitchen just now having a realization about who I am now vs. who I have been. I have the day off because Tuesdays have become my days off. It’s not a privilege, although my children think I’m “so lucky” to have an extra day off during the week. I still work my 40 hours (usually more), and come home at the end of my days tired and wanting to crawl into bed, or laze on the couch until it is bedtime and then wake up and do it all over again.

Tuesdays have become my magical resting day. A day to write. A day to think. A day to reflect. A day for extra coffee. A day for staring out my window at the trees for long periods of time and wondering if I’m willing to bundle up to go for a long walk. And it’s a day for ideas. I have so many of them! I’ve come up with at least three new ideas today, and they all seem wonderful enough to give up everything I’m doing in exchange for them. But I always feel that way about my ideas. So I write them down instead.

This post was an idea, while standing in the kitchen, and thinking long thoughts about the type of mother I have been, and am now.

I have been a stay-at-home mom.

I have been a working mom.

I have been a single mom.

I have been a stepmom.

I have been a girl mom and a boy mom, and now a mom of children who simply identify as human beings.

I have been a rich mom.

I have been a poor mom.

I have been every kind of mom.

In a world where moms are pitted against each other in the competition to see which way is the right and only way to mom, I can now say, all ways are right.

This felt profound enough to make a post about it.

Of course when I was a young mom, not even old enough to legally drink alcohol, but still a mom, I thought I had it all figured out, and I thought this was it. I was a young wife, a young mom, and I stayed home to take care of my child. I didn’t know I was lucky, in fact, I thought life was pretty unfair. I had dreams of my own, and because I was a young mom, I felt that no one wanted to support me in those dreams. Being a mom was the choice I made instead, and I really hated feeling like it had to be one way or the other. Either have your dreams, or be a mom, and I hadn’t thought any of it through. I was just living, and doing the next thing that happened. For me, it was motherhood. My child was not an accident. They were not an “oops” baby. They were very intentional, but until they came along, I didn’t realize the expectation that I was giving up my dreams to be their mother.

So, I didn’t. I pushed against all the ideals of being a stay-at-home mom and did what felt right to me. I chased every single dream I could think of.

That caused shifts in my life, and how I was as a mother.

Sometimes I worked part-time. Sometimes I went to school at night and on weekends. Sometimes I stayed home because it made more sense, and instead pursued hobby careers (like photography). We call them side hustles now, but I’ve been doing it since before they had a nickname and a new expectation associated with them.

I stayed married to the wrong man for 15 years, realized my freedom, and got divorced. I became a single mom, and it was terrifying. It was worth it though, for so many reasons. I learned a lot about myself in that time and showed my children a different side of me. The side that can do it all, no matter what anyone else thinks, and good Lord, a lot of people have a lot of opinions.

I went back to school, again, for a different reason this time, and got the career I have now as a medical assistant. I love it! My 40 hours a week don’t bother me at all, and my children are adjusting. They love Tuesdays, too.

And I’m a wife again, to a man who respects all the versions of mom I’ve been. He’s my partner, not my keeper. We make this life work together. That matters.

This is a short story of motherhood, but no matter what stage or version of motherhood you’re in, you’re doing great. You’re learning and growing, and showing those babies what you can accomplish at all stages of life and circumstances.

You got this, mama. Keep going.

2025 will be the year of stability and balance. 2024 was full of change, all good change, but it was overwhelming and fast-paced. 2025 is going to be a bit slower as I settle into my new career and find a work/life balance. 

I’m pretty excited for 2025. 

The most exciting thing happening in 2025 is watching my oldest become an adult, graduate high school, and enter college! I can’t believe we’ve made it this far in life to watch them do all of these amazing things and become the beautiful person they are! I’m beyond proud, and my heart is bursting with excitement to see all that they accomplish. It’s a big milestone for both of us to see them reach the age of 18, and forge their path. My happiness comes from being the mama in this situation and watching my baby bird fly. I love knowing that I’ve been able to create the stable life I knew I needed for my children so that they always know they can come home or fall back on me if they need to. That has been so immensely important to me, and I’m relieved that I was able to create my stability before watching my baby birds leave the nest. We always want for our children, what we weren’t able to have, and this is a big one. I never had that “home” to go back to, or those parents to fall back on. To do this for my children is huge. I hope I don’t have to be a safe haven, but if it is ever needed, I’m so glad I can support them in that way. 

Contingencies matter, and planning for them is a skill I hope to pass along to all of my children. I have many contingencies because my life has been full of “Just-in-case” moments. 

As I find balance this year, I have a couple of big goals I’m working toward and trying to carve out time for. 

I’ve been wishy-washy with my books since the pandemic started, and pretty much gave up for a good while. Last year, however, I realized more and more how important it is to me to write and produce books. Ideas have been flooding my mind, and I get so easily distracted by the thought of writing them all down. Most of my free moments go to writing. I have many journals scattered all over my home, and of course, my handy little computer. 

As school wrapped up, and I got more time on my hands (and less time needed at home for studying or doing homework) I started thinking about all the things I’ve ever done in my life, and which ones matter most to me. Balancing time when working full-time and spending time with my family is not always easy. There simply isn’t enough time for all the things, however much I wish there was. So, with what time I do have, I have to prioritize, so that makes the New Year even more challenging. This year might be the first year I’ve started planning farther in the future than just this one single year and making plans that will last for years. 

Rather than thinking “What is my New Year’s Resolution” my mind is more on the fact that I’ll be turning 40 in 2026, and that’s a big enough milestone that I want to figure out a few big things by the time that happens. 

Here are my goals for 2025:

Write the first draft of my third memoir. 

Post video of me reading my first memoir on YouTube each month.  

Make plans for my new podcast that goes hand in hand with my new book. 

Essentially what I’m doing in 2025 is laying the groundwork for everything that I plan to do with my books and writing career moving forward. 

I do have big lofty goals, and before I get stuck in the hugeness of my dreams, I want to keep myself grounded in what I can accomplish this year, but that will allow me to grow this book business bigger and bigger as each year comes and goes. 

Those are three simple goals for this year, but they will each take a significant amount of time outside my day job and I have to be smart about how I structure my time. 

I have other goals for how I envision myself and my life by the time I turn 40, but it’s not something I’m going to include in my resolutions here. Mainly, I want to figure out what the hell is wrong with my body, and that will involve doctors, exercise, and adjusting my daily routines to become healthier and have less pain overall. Trauma impacts your physical self, and I learned after reading a book called “What My Bones Know” just how true that is. That book hit home for me, and I’ll likely talk about this more later, but if you’re curious about what I’m talking about and want to know more about C-PTSD and the pain we hold onto with trauma, that’s a really good start! 

The point here is, I don’t want to enter my 40s with the same amount of pain I’m experiencing right now, but it’s not something I want to add to a resolution list just to get swept under the rug if I neglect myself. I have no plans to neglect myself, I’ve already done that for far too long. 

Anyway, I love New Year’s Eve, and setting goals/resolutions. Usually, my goals are small, and if I don’t make it, eh, whatever. I’m pretty determined this year, and have a lot more faith and confidence to achieve new goals since graduating college, I’m learning more about how to structure my time and prioritize my dreams so I can accomplish these things. 

I have WAY too much I want to do with this life. 

Time is always the one thing I constantly wish I had more of. 

As I end this post I want to share an idea that my oldest had which is: New Year’s Bingo!

The idea is, there are 25 spaces, including 1 free space in the middle. So, you get 24 spaces to write down 24 things you might like to do for the year, and try to get bingo, or multiple bingos, or if you’re determined, blackout! 

Since I couldn’t find a template I liked online, I made a simple one for us to use tonight and tomorrow to fill full of things we want to do for the year. If we get to do them, great, if not, there’s no pressure, it’s just fun! 

Some other things I’ll be adding to my board are: 

Visit a national park

Visit a state park 

Try a new coffee shop

Visit my family in Utah

Go bike riding

… 

It’s going to take me a minute to come up with some other fun ideas for the rest of my board. 

Again, it’s just a fun thing to do, and I’m going to include the template here so, if you want, you can download it and use it for your own New Year’s Bingo. 

Happy New Year, everyone!