Anyway, Here’s the Truth

Anyway, Here’s the Truth Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Anyway, Here’s the Truth, Bismarck, ND.

I used to think I wanted an exciting life.I wanted plans.People.Invitations.Something happening every weekend.I wanted t...
09/01/2026

I used to think I wanted an exciting life.

I wanted plans.

People.

Invitations.

Something happening every weekend.

I wanted to know everybody and somehow have everybody know me.

I wanted stories to tell.

And for a long time, I think I confused being busy with having a full life.

Now?

Cancel the plans.

Seriously.

There are few notifications more beautiful than:

“Hey, would you mind if we rescheduled?”

Oh thank GOD.

I was already mentally preparing an excuse anyway.

I don’t want to be everywhere anymore.

I don’t want 67 friendships that require maintenance.

I don’t want to know what everybody is doing.

And honestly, I don’t particularly want everybody knowing what I’m doing either.

Somewhere along the way my idea of a good life got really fricken boring.. which isn’t a bad thing.

Give me a house I actually want to come home to.

A husband I still want to tell the stupid s**t to.

Kids wandering in and out of rooms asking me questions while I’m clearly doing something.

Dogs piled on the couch.

Something good on Netflix.

Food I didn’t have to cook would be ideal.

And a Diet Coke so cold it almost hurts.

That’s a pretty damn good night.

I used to worry that becoming this person meant I was getting boring… and Maybe I am.

But I also think I spent a lot of years needing things outside of my life to make my life feel interesting.

Attention.

Plans.

People.

Noise.

Something to look forward to.

Something to talk about.

Something happening.

Now some of my favorite days are the ones where absolutely nothing happens.

Nobody needs rescuing.

Nobody is mad at anybody.

There isn’t some giant emotional situation that needs to be dissected for six hours.

We’re just…

home.

Anyway, here’s the truth.

I don’t think I want an exciting life anymore.

I want a life that feels good when nobody is watching.

I want people I can exhale around.

I want ordinary nights.

Inside jokes.

Food on the couch.

Dogs under the blankets.

A marriage that feels like home.

Kids who know they can always come back to it.

And enough excitement every once in awhile to remind me why I like staying home so fu***ng much.

Maybe that’s boring.

Fine.

I’ve done exciting.

Boring is actually pretty fu***ng nice.

I used to think there would inevitably be more time.Not in some deep, philosophical way.I just simply thought there woul...
08/30/2026

I used to think there would inevitably be more time.

Not in some deep, philosophical way.

I just simply thought there would be more.

More holidays…birthdays… random Tuesday phone calls.

More family dinners where somebody gets irritated, somebody talks way too loud, somebody brings something up they probably shouldn’t, then eventually everybody goes home.

More pictures and chances to say the thing.

More chances to fix the thing… chances to say I’m sorry.

…and more chances to say I love you.

Tomorrow.

Next week.

Next Christmas.

Later.

There was always going to be a later.

Until there wasn’t.

I’ve lost enough people in my life to know families can change really fu***ng fast.

One year everybody is there then the next year somebody isn’t.

And somehow … the world just keeps going like something enormous didn’t just happen.

The grocery store is still open.

People are still bitching about traffic.

You still have to pay the electric bill.

Somebody still needs to know what’s for dinner.

And you’re standing there thinking…

How the f**k is everything still normal when this person doesn’t even exist anymore?

That might be one of the strangest parts about losing someone.

Eventually their absence becomes part of the furniture.

You learn where the empty spaces are.

You learn which songs you probably shouldn’t listen to unless you’re prepared to completely ruin your mascara.

You learn which memories make you laugh and which ones still knock the fu***ng wind out of you.

And you learn grief has absolutely no respect for your damn schedule.

You can be perfectly fine for months and then smell something, hear something, find an old picture…

And there they are.

For a minute anyway.

Maybe that’s why I care less about certain things now.

Not nothing.

I still get pi**ed.

I still get my feelings hurt.

I still overthink things that probably deserve approximately seven seconds of thought.

I can still turn a weird tone of voice into a full investigation if given the opportunity.

But hey, I’m a work in progress here.

But I don’t want to waste years being angry at people I love.

I don’t want pride to cost me time I can’t get back.

I don’t want to miss ordinary moments because I’m waiting for everybody to behave exactly how I think they should.

And for the love of God, I don’t want to keep refusing to be in pictures because I don’t like my body.

I’ve done that.

Stand behind somebody.

Turn sideways.

Delete that one.

Don’t post that.

Oh God, my stomach.

My arms look huge.

Take another one.

Meanwhile, someday the people who love me aren’t going to give a single s**t what my arms looked like.

They’re going to want the picture because I was fu***ng there.

That one gets me.

Because when you’ve lost people, you understand how valuable completely ordinary pictures become.

Not the perfect ones.

The stupid ones.

Someone sitting at the kitchen table.

Someone sleeping on the couch.

A terrible Christmas morning picture where nobody is ready.

Somebody laughing with their mouth wide open.

The blurry one.

The one you almost deleted.

The picture that meant absolutely nothing when you took it and somehow becomes priceless later.

Honestly I wish I understood that sooner.

I wish I understood a lot of things sooner.

But I didn’t.

And maybe that’s just how life works.

You spend the first half thinking you have all the time in the world and the second half realizing nobody ever promised you that.

Anyway, here’s the truth.

There are people I would give damn near anything to have one completely ordinary day with again.

Not some perfect reunion.

I don’t need a vacation.

I don’t need some big meaningful conversation where we finally say everything we should have said.

I’d take boring.

Sit at the table.

Drink something.

Talk about absolutely nothing.

Laugh about something stupid.

Maybe even get annoyed with each other.

Just one more regular day.

So I’m trying to pay attention to the regular days I still have.

The people who are still here.

The husband who can occasionally drive me absolutely fricking insane.

The kids who are growing up way faster than I gave them permission to.

The dogs under my feet.

The noise.

The mess.

The dinners nobody can agree on.

The texts I need to answer.

The birthdays.

The holidays.

The completely unremarkable Tuesdays.

Because one day, some of this ordinary s**t is going to be the stuff I would give anything to have back.

So take the picture.

Answer the phone.

Say I love you.

Say you’re sorry when you need to.

Let some s**t go.

Order the tacos.

And get your ass in the picture even if you hate your fu***ng arms.

You were there.

That’s the part that matters.

The older I get, the less impressed I am by a lot of things I used to think mattered.I don’t need to be invited to every...
08/28/2026

The older I get, the less impressed I am by a lot of things I used to think mattered.

I don’t need to be invited to everything. In fact, I don’t WANT to be invited to everything.

I don’t need everyone to like me.

I don’t need to explain myself for someone to “get” me. I don’t need to be understood.

I don’t need to win every argument.

Actually that last one is still a work in progress.

But mostly?

I just want peace.

I want the type of friends where one weird text doesn’t make me wonder if you’re mad at me.

Where I can say something wrong and you know me well enough to ask what I meant instead of deciding what I meant.

Where we can disagree and not become enemies.

I want people who can tell me if I’m being an as***le without making me feel like I am an as***le then holding it against me.

And I want to be that person for other people too.

Because God knows I’ve gotten s**t wrong.

I’ve overreacted… taken things personally that probably wasn’t that personal.

I’ve been defensive when I should’ve just shut the f**k up and listened.

I’ve said things I wish I could shove right back into my mouth.

I’ve also spent way too much time trying to fix things that were never mine to fix.

People.

Relationships.

Situations.

HIM.

Myself.

Always myself.

Like somewhere along the way I got this idea that peace would finally show up once everything and everyone was behaving the way I thought they should.

Like just follow the script dude !

Turns out that is fu***ng exhausting.

My life is already full.

There are people I love who need things from me. Dogs who apparently believe going outside 67 times a day is a reasonable request.

Work. NEVER ENDING Laundry. Bills. A house that can look clean at noon then turn around and look like we were robbed by 4.

I have approximately 6,000 thoughts happening at any given moment and at least three of them are wondering what I forgot.

I do not have room for manufactured chaos.

I don’t want friendships where I have to analyze every conversation afterward.

I don’t want relationships where silence is punishment.

I don’t want gossip disguised as concern. 👀

I don’t want to wonder what version of me is being discussed when I leave the room.

And I REALLY don’t want to spend three business days trying to figure out what somebody meant by “k.”

I’m tired.

Not unhappy.

Not bitter.

Just old enough to finally understand how fu***ng expensive peace is.

Because sometimes peace costs you being understood.

Sometimes it costs you the last word.

Sometimes it costs you a friendship you thought would last forever.

Sometimes it means apologizing when every cell in your body is still preparing a closing argument. 🤣

Sometimes it means saying no and letting somebody be pi**ed about it.😜

And sometimes it means realizing you can love someone very much and still not give them unlimited access to you.

That one took me awhile.

I used to think keeping the peace meant making sure everybody else was okay.

Don’t upset anybody.

Don’t disappoint anybody.

Smooth it over.

Fix it.

Explain it.

Make everybody comfortable.

Meanwhile I’m over here emotionally folding myself into a fu***ng carry-on bag trying to make sure nobody else has to check their luggage.

No thanks.😅

I want actual peace now.

The kind that exists even when somebody doesn’t understand me.

The kind that doesn’t require me to abandon myself to keep somebody else.

The kind where I can love people without managing them.

Where I can make a mistake without deciding I’m a terrible person.

Where somebody else can make a mistake without me deciding they’re a terrible person.

More grace.

More conversations.

More laughing until somebody almost pees.

More sitting around doing absolutely nothing with people who don’t require me to perform.

More dogs on the couch.

More tacos.

An irresponsible amount of Diet Coke.

And significantly fewer pants because honestly pants are overrated.

I know I’m still going to get pi**ed off.

I’m still going to take something personally that wasn’t personal.

I’m still going to say “I’m fine” while very clearly looking like someone who is absolutely not fu***ng fine.

I’m still me.

And I’m probably always going to be a little messy.

Anyway, here’s the truth.

I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting battles that don’t need to be fought.

Some s**t deserves a conversation.

Some s**t deserves a boundary.

Some s**t deserves an apology.

And some s**t deserves absolutely nothing from me.

I don’t need to win.

I just want peace.

Preferably pantsless.

With tacos.

And a Diet Coke.

I used to think if I could just get my life together, I’d finally feel like I had my life together.You know what I mean....
08/28/2026

I used to think if I could just get my life together, I’d finally feel like I had my life together.

You know what I mean.

Clean the house.
More money.
Be skinny.
Fix HIM.
Be present.
Less lazy, more doing.
Actually answer texts back.
Drink more water.
USE the fu***ng planner.

Then miraculously I’d wake up one morning and feel like one of those women who knows what she’s doing.

Except every time I fixed one thing, something else fell apart… like the rug was pulled out from underneath me.

And for a long time, I thought that meant I was failing.

I looked around at other women and genuinely believed they had figured out the secret to adulthood I had somehow missed.

They looked happier than I could ever imagine.

Maybe even more organized.

They for sure were better wives, better mothers. Dare I say.. better friends.

These little Suzy Homemakers could some how remember birthdays, get their kiddos lunches packed and somehow had clean baseboards.

Meanwhile, some days doing great meant I actually put the toilet paper roll on, mustered up enough energy for an everything shower, and even put out so my husband could feel seen.

And some days I was lying in bed thinking about everything I “should be doing” while doing absolutely none of it. The overwhelming task of it all is paralyzing.

So I kept telling myself the same story:

Once I get my s**t together, then I can be happy.

Anyway, here’s the truth.

There is no version of my life where everything is handled.

There is no finish line where the laundry is done, everyone is happy with me, my body is exactly how I want it, the house stays clean, the bank account has enough money, I never say the wrong thing, and I finally become the woman I thought I was supposed to be.

She. Doesn’t. Exist.

And maybe I’ve wasted enough of my life making the woman I actually am feel like s**t because she couldn’t become her.

So this is me trying something different.

Less pretending.

Less polishing.

Less saying what sounds good.

More saying the thing I actually mean.

Letting my yes be yes and my no be HELL NO.

Because we tell ourselves a lot of stories.

Anyway, here’s the truth.

Address

Bismarck, ND

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Anyway, Here’s the Truth posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Business

Send a message to Anyway, Here’s the Truth:

Shortcuts

Share