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Category: Lifestyle
Dear Readers, It’s been a rough couple of days. I know that sometimes my social media makes it seem like things are happy & grand, but I think that’s the point of social media. Sometimes we just want to show the world the best of us. Because, honestly, I don’t think people always want to hear the bad stuff. They don’t want to have to pity us, or act like they care. It’s a harsh truth, but a truth if nothing else. I recently posted a photo on my instagram of my boyfriend and I…
I’ve gone through phases in my life trying to decide if I believe in soulmates as this grand scheme of things where you end up with someone that is destined for you to be with forever, or in the sense of Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love and whether they are just supposed to shake you up, show you your true self, and then move on. While I think that there are the latter, and these people are good for your soul in a completely different way, I leaned towards the first idea more. Maybe I watched Serendipity…
When I was a child, I had this vision of how my life would go. I’d become a professional dancer, singer & actress. I’d get married at 22 and have my first child by 23. Then I’d pop out four more in succession. I’d also travel all the time. This was how I thought my life would turn out. I never imagined that the picture-perfect image would fade. I never imagined I’d get dealt different cards. We all have this idea of how our life will turn out, and…
Dear Superwoman, Have you taken a breath today? I mean really, truly, stopped and just breathed? No? I figured. Do it now for me. Inhale deep and slowly exhale. Feels good, right? Now I want you to listen very closely. I’m going to say things you don’t want to hear. But you need to. Perfect is a word you’ve so desperately strived for all your life. You’ve carefully set so many things into motion and if everything goes according to plan, it all works out. But, what if it doesn’t? Do you know how to…
It’s taken twenty six long years. When I was eighteen, I would have never posted a picture of myself without make up on my blog. Not even when I was twenty three. It’s taken me a very long time to be okay with what I look like and really grow into myself. While I love make up because it is fun and sometimes even artistic, we’ve become a society that is so fixed on perfect. Long lashes, plump lips, small waist, big butt and boobs, bleached hair. These are signs of a perfect woman…
On this day, four long years ago, I was bawling like a little girl. It was the day I married my now ex-husband. I was very pregnant, and felt a sense of duty and obligation to get married since I got pregnant out of wedlock. My pregnancy hormones took over and I said, What the hell, and I got married. But, what the pictures didn’t show, was how much I didn’t want it. I stared down at the empty finger that would soon hold a ring. I was used to the bareness, the small freckle…
We all have our secrets. We all have our pieces of our own history we try to black out. But sometimes they come up when we least expect them. Sometimes they float into conversation like they are nothing at all, even when they used to be huge. My secret is, when I was in ninth grade, I was anorexic. I don’t like to talk about this because it seems so long ago. And to be honest, it seems superficial and stupid. Because I was. I was so, so stupid. But I was a child. I didn’t…
Sometimes I think I’m going downhill, over the other side. The mountain I’d been trying to climb, I think that I’ve successfully climbed it. I’m finally in the clear. It’s time to move to smaller hills. But then there’s a day where the most I can do is be there, or sleep. I can’t participate. I can’t give emotions I wish I could give. The medication worked well at first. And then, it only worked some of the time. I go back in February…
White pieces of paper, folded into the smallest of rectangles, begin to fill up a small jar on my nightstand. I placed this clear jar with a golden glittery heart and teal top on the stand the first of this year, and already it is starting to create a mound. The idea is, that every time something wonderful happens, no matter how small, I will write about it and stick it in the jar. All year. When it is New Year Eve again, I will open the jar and read the tiny notes inside. No matter what has happened negatively…
One year. So much change, but mostly growth. I searched for myself in the wrong ways. I searched for myself in the right ways. I searched for myself in the gray areas between. It was a year of YES. It was a year of saying, “FUCK IT. Let’s do it.” And it was a year of learning. Since I was seventeen, I have been the girl with a man beside her. While this man has changed faces many times, he was always there to scoop me up when I fell, to kiss away the tears or…
