Hey, ya’ll. If you are stopping by this page, then most likely you want to know a little more about me. If you already know me and still want to come around? Well, then. Lord knows how much I love my village!

I want you to feel like family around here. If you are afraid of hearing the down and dirty, then just slide on by, because I have this nasty habit of being what my mama calls “real straight” about things. Life isn’t always clean, pretty, and perfect (although the internet would like us to believe it is).

My name is Robyn. In some circles, my friends call me Darby. You can call me either just as long as you don’t call out Roll Tide. I’m an Auburn girl, born and raised, and the only battle cry I want to hear is War Eagle!

Now we’ve got that out of the way; I want to tell y’all a story. This is a story about the struggle. This is a story about bottoming out and building back up. My story might sound like your story, and that’s ok. That means that we might go together like sweet tea and mason jars, and well, that’s pretty darn amazing if you ask me.

Recently, I was telling a friend that “You have to get through the hard parts to get to the fun parts.” Looking back at my life, that’s exactly what I did. Now, I’m in a place where I get to have the most fun, and luckily, I get to share those fun bits with some of you.

I was raised with good ol’ Southern values. My parents worked hard and helped raise me to be the woman that I am today. My small-town upbringing gave me roots deeper than a Live oak tree. I always believed in myself, and I saw the good in almost everyone around me. I believed in other people so much that I often forgot to take care of myself. It’s true. An empath sometimes forgets what she needs for herself because she’s busy worrying about the needs of other people. It’s that empathy that got me into trouble and took me places that I’d never visited before, like Minot, North Dakota.

Just kidding. I got to Minot by way of the Air Force, and not a vacation. Trust me, if you’ve been to Minot, you understand. My husband, my son, and I had the pleasure of PCSing to one of the coldest bases in the United States. When we got there, things got tough. No, not tough. Hard. I wanted to go to nursing school to help support my family. To start school, I needed my CNA license, and those cost money. Money that we didn’t have. So, I got my CNA license anyway, and along with that, I also got a job in the OR as a CNA, because the only way to pay for that license was to work. I worked crazy shifts in the OR and started nursing school during the day. I was burning the candle at both ends with work and school, and my duties didn’t stop there.

Remember when I said that I liked to help other people? That I always said yes? Whenever someone needed me, even if I needed myself more, I said yes. It was no different when I was in school, working, and I still had to be a wife and a mom. I said yes to dinner; I said yes to laundry. I said yes to my husband’s work events. I said yes so much that some days I was (barely) functioning on two hours of sleep. And that? YES, that is when the shit hit the fan.

After a 52-hour shift without any sleep, I came home completely delirious. You know that kind of tired your kid gets? When they become slap-happy and laugh until they cry? Yep. That was me. I was so exhausted that I physically hurt. I made it inside my house and collapsed on the couch. My husband, bless his heart, came down and asked me to do a list of things for him. Yes, bless his heart, indeed. I snapped. I lost it. I realized that I couldn’t say yes to ONE. MORE. THING.

So, I said no.

That one word was the best word that I’d heard out of my mouth in years. NO. It was then and there that I made a decision. I’d been doing things wrong all along. To take care of others the way I was raised to take care of them, I had to take care of myself. That word. No. It’s all that it took. That word took me from a million little pieces to something stronger and more cohesive. I’d say I went from utterly undone to more of a survival mode-undone. From there, I learned what parts I needed to keep my sanity, and what pieces I could give away. So, I gave away the laundry. My husband and son had to figure out how to do this on their own. From there, it became easier just to let go.

It wasn’t immediately, but soon, life started to get more comfortable. I decided what I needed to stay afloat, and funny, floating was just one of those things that I needed. My weekly bath suddenly became my necessity. It was during those baths that I could sit and be. Was it the bubbles? Was it the locked door? Whatever it was, I knew I needed that bath, and some weeks, that bath was the only thing that kept me sane.

After finishing nursing school, the same OR where I worked as a CNA hired me for a nursing position. I switched roles but maintained job consistency. I was finally in a place where I had more time to myself, which meant I could take more baths! A friend asked me if I wanted to try some of her bath salts. She knew me and knew my love for my tub time. She also knew that I was cheap (cue the boxed wine), and I’d do anything for a bargain. So, I said yes to the Perfectly Posh bath salts, and I eventually said yes to the Perfectly Posh starter kit. Why? I got a better deal. Duh!

I didn’t know that those bath salts and my love for the tub would one day turn me into the head of a three million dollar company with Perfectly Posh. My team, the Crazy Daisies, developed because I loved a product. I shared some of my lotions, soaps, and bath salts with my friends, not because I wanted to make money, but because I enjoyed giving things I loved to other people. Remember, I’m an empath, and when others feel bad, I feel bad, too. I just did what I knew at the time, and that was to share something that was sitting on my shelf. I gave, and then suddenly my giving started to give back to me.

Are things easier today? Absolutely. Are they perfect? Nope. But, I’ve finally figured out what I need to do to help myself, so I can eventually help others. Today, I am a traveling OR nurse living in Colorado Springs. I am still a mom, a wife, and a Crazy Daisy. Now, when I’m fixin’ to throw a hissy fit, I throw a Fizi in my bath instead. I pour myself a little of that boxed wine; I shut my bathroom door, and I just say no (for an hour or so, anyway).