Posted in Letters to..., Thoughts and Opinions

Curvy Girl’s Guide to being Happy

Yep, you read that title right. It’s crazy to think that the composition of one’s body and one’s happiness would go hand in hand, but in our society, that is exactly what we are conditioned to believe. Was the title click bait? I guess you’ll have to read to find out.

I am a curvy woman. There is no arguing that. I always have been, even when I was a size 6. Wide hips, big bum, big breasts, small waist – I was blessed (my words) with it all. And for a the better share of my teenage and young adult years, I was depressed (diagnosed). Do I believe there is a connection between these two variables? Heck no. Does society push it down our throats that there must be? Of course they do.

Unless you are rich and famous like a couple well known celebs, you are not supposed to have an ounce of fat on your body. They don’t come right out and say it, but the message is everywhere. Magazine covers. Movies. Television shows. Instagram. The list goes on but I don’t have all day and I’m sure neither do you. Now, don’t get me wrong. Progress is being made. Several influencers have made platforms addressing these very issues, with beautiful bodies and the souls to match. Yet still, young girls are led to believe that if you have a certain body type (flat stomach, big boobs, long legs all preferred) then you will be happy.

This is the biggest loud of BS you will probably ever be spoon fed in your life.

Let me tell you a story. Buckle in and hold on because we’re going to dive here.

As I said, I’ve always been a bigger girl. When I was younger, this wasn’t really a good thing. They weren’t yet curves, just little girl chub, so I was made fun of. I was told to eat less and exercise more. Yes, as a ten year old. As I began to grow into my body, fat began to go to places that society is okay with. That I was praised for. Until there was too much of it. Until it came around to my stomach. Suddenly, there was something wrong with me. Yet, I was still happy.

I was still happy until right after High School graduation. I hit a real low, and while there were many factors in my life contributing to this which now I find obvious, my mind then jumped right to my body. Why? Because I had been conditioned to believe there was something wrong with it. Because the girls in my graduating class didn’t look like me. Because the girls on Instagram didn’t look like me. The conclusion to me was obvious. I was unhappy because I was fat.

In six months I lost thirty pounds and five pants sizes. My stomach was flat for the first time ever. I had also hit the lowest depression I have ever been in. So, my body must still not be right. I began going to the gym more and more. I was building muscle where I wanted it. Finally, I was looking like those girls I followed on Instagram. I was also suicidal.

After digging myself out of this dark place with a lot of therapy and even more love and support from family, I began to put the weight back on. I was still going to the gym. I was still eating healthy. But I wasn’t being as restrictive or strict, because I was no longer eating and exercising to get a certain body type. And then I stopped going to the gym for a few months. I started drinking soda again and eating chips. And I gained all of the weight back I had worked so hard to get off.

At the heaviest I have ever been, 170 pounds (THE FEMALE AVERAGE) I am proud to say I am also the happiest I have ever been.

And so, I learned the hard way. Happiness has absolutely nothing to do with the size or shape of your body. You will not be any happier when you are ten pounds lighter unless you also change your heart.

It is completely possible to be as happy as you wish to be in this very moment. A hundred pounds overweight or twenty pounds under.

So here is my curvy girl’s guide to being happy. Step one. Stop placing so much value on the figure you see in the mirror. Step two. Realize you are made up of so much more than just the way your skin and fat have chosen to lay on your body. Step three. Make sure you are okay with the person you are when you’re body isn’t at place. Step three. Make sure your environment is a good breeding ground for happiness.

“Curvy” girls deserve to be happy. “Skinny” girls deserve to be happy. “Fat” girls deserve to be happy. And every single girl in between.

Posted in Letters to..., Poetry, Thoughts and Opinions

Dear World – Love, Unapologetic Me

Sixth grade English class, first day of school. I wore a purple t-shirt with two penguins printed on the chest I had so enthusiastically asked my mom for whilst school shopping. I liked penguins. The teacher told me to cover up because I was attracting too much attention. Later in private elaborating that too many of my male classmates were looking at the black and white birds displayed on my top.

This is the first time I was treated like an object to be molded rather than a human being.

My dear mother taught my sisters and I that fitting into a box was for woman too shy to be themselves. She taught us to wear the bright colors, to choose the mix matched socks, to buy daisy duke shorts and crop tops and strut them like we were made to be worshiped. My mother taught me to own my body.

Sophomore year of High School, last day of school. I was dressed in all black, walking to my waitressing job fifteen minutes from school when a middle aged man across the street whistled at me and called me sexy. When I angrily told my coworker, he told me I was asking for it. My barely developed teen body shivered as my cloths were suddenly too tight, wishing I had a blanket to wrap myself in to protect me from his stare.

We live in a world where short skirts and tight tops are seen as provocative while cat calls and labels are portrayed as normal.

Senior year, another day at work. A costumer walks in. I will never forget the red of her lips, the way her hair curled back from her face, the form of her body hugged in a black dress. The click of her heels as she approached the counter as if she was made to be there. She spoke the English language in a way that suggested it had been written all for her. When she left, the air was stale.

I promised myself that one day, I would own the room exactly the way that woman did.

Since the moment we learn to talk we woman are surrounded by voices telling us that we are not good enough. Our bodies are not thin enough. Our hair is not straight enough. Our clothes do not cover enough. Or our clothes cover too much. From the second we learn to walk we are groomed into perfect little misses, ushered into cages, taught that if we do not fit into a certain box we will not fit in anywhere.

My sixth grade teacher was a lady. Unknowingly, with only a quick instruction, she set a wheel in motion I was afraid would never stop rolling.

2019, 22 years old. I am still trying to unlearn what the world has forced down my throat since childhood by spoon feeding myself the teachings of a very wise woman. My mother. Her silent example the reason for my loud mouth and overflowing opinions.

Not every woman is lucky enough to have a mother as loud and colorful as mine. So many women are ushered into the darkness, into baggy clothes and fake smiles, believing this is the world they were meant to live in. These women sadly never get to learn what it means to exist freely in their bodies. So many women convinced there is nothing more to this life than the mold they were forced into.

I am here to help you become the woman you might have never known you even had the power to be. Wear the clothes you want. Weather those be the tight jeans and crop tops or the baggy dresses and sweaters. Cut your hair the way you want. Tell everyone exactly what you think. Open your mouth when people tell you to stay quiet.

Own every room you walk into, because this world is yours for the taking.

Posted in Poetry, Thoughts and Opinions

Giving Up: The Best Choice I Could Have Made

“Don’t give up!” “Keep going!” “It’s all worth it!”

These are just a few of my own personal mantras. I preach these not only to myself in order to get out of bed in the morning, but also to others, when they come to me with their worries and woes, expressing how bad of a life they have. Do not give up. This will forever be my one solid grain of advice when all my other pearls of wisdom fall to the wayside. When you feel like giving up, give it one more try.

However, that’s not what today’s post is about. Today’s post is actually about exactly the opposite. Today, I plan to tell you about the one time I gave up, and why to do this day, I don’t regret that decision.

Picture this. Years of friendship. The kind of friendship people look at and say “I wish I had a friend like that”. The no boundaries kind of friend. The my house is your house and your house is my house kind of friend. Her family was my family and my family hers. Summers were always spent together. Sleepovers were plentiful, laughing until we had stitches in our sides was an almost nightly event.

And now picture this. A falling out. Not a big fight, a sudden episode, a burst of anger. No, a slow and steady drift that started before either of us even noticed the crack. Days drifted into weeks, weeks into months, until one day we looked back and hadn’t spoken in nearly a year. Life gets busy. People have their own lives. So I’d reach out. She’d reach out. We’d both send a couple messages here and there. We would hang out when we could. The drift continued.

It was only a few months ago when I thought about the big question: Should I give up? It seemed like such a huge thing, such an important friendship to just wash down the drain. But still, each ignored message, each hasty reply, each awkward forced conversation, the question popped back into my mind. Would giving up really be the worst thing?

Some days I wish we had fought. Some days I wish one of us had broken the others heart, because then at least there would be someone to blame. Here, there is just pointing fingers when we both have dirty hands.

I finally made the decision early one morning over my cup of coffee. It was an exceptionally beautiful day. The morning was crisp, the birds were chirping. I never sit on my porch early in the morning, but this particular morning, I decided to. Wrapped in a throw blanket, my hair piled high on top of my head, my limbs still waking up, it came to me at first as a whisper. The thoughts weren’t concrete yet, and so I pushed them aside. But as the sun got higher in the sky, so did the thoughts grow louder in my head until I couldn’t shut them out anymore.

And so the messages stopped. I stopped scrolling up to reread old messages. I stopped digging through my search history to find something relevant to just “bring up” to start conversation. I stopped forcing myself to make something of the past a part of my future. I gave up trying to force something to work that just didn’t seem to want to work.

Giving up is such an ugly phrase. We tend to pair it with dark thoughts, with failure and death. Maybe sometimes giving up means new beginnings. Maybe sometimes giving up doesn’t mean you failed at all, but that you succeeded. Maybe sometimes parts of your past aren’t meant to exist in this moment.

Our friendship was beautiful. We existed for one another when neither of us had someone else to turn to. But people change. Life moves forward. Life also has a tricky way of bringing things back to us that we thought we’d let go.

Giving up meant I no longer had to worry about being the one to message first. Giving up meant I could focus on relationships that were flourishing, rather than watering those that maybe needed a break. Giving up meant resting at a time when I had been doing everything but, trying to keep an old flame flickering.

I write all of this only to let you know that it is okay to give up every now and again. Not on the bigger things. Never on yourself or your dreams or your own life. Never on those things. But sometimes giving up is the only way to see the bigger picture. Sometimes giving up allows you to take a step back and evaluate the situation from the outside.

Now to wrap up my story, because I am sure some of you are wondering. Some of you are probably even shaking your head. “Such a shame,” you’re probably thinking. “Years of friendship just gone.” I don’t see it that way.

I have outstretched arms for this woman and I always will. My home with always be her home. If she fell on her butt and needed some cash to get by, my money would be her money. My ear will always be ready to listen. I still want to be a part of her daughter’s life. I still want to grow old with her. I still want her to be my maid of honor whenever I do get married. Just because she is not part of my now does not mean she can’t be a part of my future. I will always love her in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever love anyone else. Because in a way, she was my first true love. Before either of us knew what romantic love was, when we only really knew we loved our parents and siblings, we grew to rely on each other and we grew together. That’s not something I will ever forget or take for granted, nor would I ever want to. The blunt truth though is that we are on different paths now. We are living different stories and that’s a good thing.

I gave up only to allow room for growth. I gave up only to allow the universe to do her thing. Because she really does have a way of knowing what is best for you.

Posted in Thoughts and Opinions

10 Things Your Server Wants You to Know

Five years working in a restaurant can make or break a person. It’s not easy work, and the pay isn’t always great either. My experience had it’s hills and it’s valleys. To this day, waitressing is my favorite job I’ve ever had. But it’s also my least favorite.

I stumble across these lists everywhere. Blog posts, magazine articles, Youtube channels. It seems everyone wants to give their take on the topic, and I can see why. From my own experience, I tend to disagree with half of what these writers say, and whole heartily agree with the other half. No two people are going to have the same exact experience working a service job, so this difference in opinion makes complete sense. As I find profound interest in these lists myself, I thought I would take a moment to construct my own list of the 10 things your server wants you to know.

1.) We have bad days. I can’t count the amount of times a costumer would complain to another one of my coworkers about my ‘attitude’, when in reality, I just didn’t smile wide enough. I know you are paying for good service. I understand that you expect a server who smiles widely and returns to your table promptly at your every beck and call, but the reality of it is, we are human too. We have bad days. So if I’m not smiling when I return to your table with the extra dressing, it’s not because I think you’re needy for asking for extra ranch. It’s because I wish I was in bed instead of wearing this apron and taking your order.

2.) Any tip is better than no tip. Often when reading these lists people say angrily TIP AT LEAST FIFTEEN PERCENT. I get it. We live off of these tips. We make crap money so we depend on these tips to pay our bills. But I don’t agree with the argument that if you can’t afford a fifteen percent tip, don’t go out. I’ve been in the position where I couldn’t afford that fifteen percent tip. My family and I all ordered the cheapest things we could on the menu to keep our total low, and we tipped what we could. Everyone deserves to treat themselves. We are all trying. So if you can only afford a two dollar tip, then leave a two dollar tip. I might complain in the moment to my coworkers, but I get it. It’s better than nothing. This does not mean however, that it’s okay to rack up a bill of over a hundred dollars and only leave a two dollar tip. This will put you on the servers sh** list.

3.) PLEASE clean off the space in front of you before I bring you your food. More times than not, costumers will place their phone in front of them, or their drink, or their own elbows, and expect me to clean the space for them while balancing a tray and carrying refills in the other hand. This almost always results in me struggling for a good five minutes trying to set your food down while you stare at me with an angry glare, and then an angry note about my service written on the comment slip when you leave. This can all be avoided by just keeping that space clear. Thank you.

4.) This is on every list. But it needs to be repeated. DO NOT take drinks off of my tray. It took me months to learn exactly where each glass needs to be placed, and in which order each glass needs to be taken off in order to avoid every drink landing on the floor or worse, on your brand new dress. I know you think you’re being helpful. But you’re not. I know what I’m doing. You are only going to cause a mess. It won’t hurt you to wait an extra ten seconds for me to get to your diet coke.

5.) Just because I don’t look busy, doesn’t mean I’m not busy. When you see us walking around the dining room and you get angry because you haven’t been checked on in the past two seconds, know that we are probably very busy, even if it doesn’t seem it. You are not the only table your server is responsible of, and serving requires mental multi tasking to the point that I would often leave with headaches Tylenol extra strength wouldn’t even touch. Wait for us to come around. We have a system and I promise we will get back to you.

6.) Your server has no control on when your food comes out. All we are responsible for once we put your order into the system is picking it back up and bringing it out to you. We are not in the kitchen cooking it for you. Someone else entirely has that job, so yelling at us to cook your well done steak faster, is going to do nothing but make both you and us very angry. The most we can do is go back and ask the chef how much time is left, normally causing the chef to promptly yell back a line of profanities and usher your server from the line. Just enjoy the company at your table and sit back. Your food will come, I again, promise.

7.) PLEASE do not come into a sit down establishment and tell your server you are in a rush. If you must, we will do our best to get you out in a timely manner, but as stated above, there are so many other variables out of our control. Most restaurants offer take out, online ordering, or even delivery. If you are in a hurry, please consider one of those options. Our jobs include making your meal the best experience it can be, so if we have to rush, not only will you experience sub par service, but other tables might suffer as well.

8.) The nicer you are to your server, the better experience you will have. It sounds horrible, but it’s true. Again, we’re only human. Most servers, or should I say, good servers, will always give you good service. But if you are nice to us, patient, kind, understanding, you might even experience great service. I’ve been known to give a free refill on a drink we aren’t supposed to, or an extra sauce for no charge where their should have been a fee, just because the costumer didn’t yell at me when I forgot to bring ketchup to their table. Like the saying goes, you reap what you sow.

9.) Your server does not control the prices. I have had two service jobs, one of which, and my all time favorite job thus far, was at a health food cafe. You get what you pay for, as in all things. So, I thought understandably so, prices were a bit higher because the food was farm to table. Everything was organic and handmade. Still, costumers would complain to me, after ordering and eating, once receiving their bill, about the price. I do not get paid from your check. I do not make the prices. I have no control or interest in the prices of each item whatsoever. If you can not afford a particular place, pick another. It is okay to look at a menu and leave without ordering because you can’t afford anything on the menu. I will not judge you and I will not be angry. I’d rather that than having to deal with your angry complaints as I am trying to buss your table and serve three others.

10.) And finally, please don’t look down on your server for the line of work they are doing. I have met some of the best people working service jobs, people with some of the most interesting stories and lives you wouldn’t even imagine. Some of the most intelligent people. Some servers are High School students saving for a car or college, others are single moms working three jobs to put food on the table, and others stumbled into serving on accident and never left because they loved it. And every story in between. No matter what the reason, they are no less of a human than you simply because they are bringing you your meal. If you can afford a bigger tip, leave a bigger tip. If you are in a great mood that day and want to leave your server a note on how amazing they were, please do. Each and every server you will ever have is only doing their job, living their life and trying to pay their bills, just like you.

After reading my list, I hope you leave here with a bit of a different outlook on your servers and I hope you learned something. If you’ve ever served or worked in costumer service in general, please leave a comment and add to my list. I’d love to hear what you have to say!

Posted in Letters to..., Thoughts and Opinions

Stop Comparing Yourself: Feeling Confident At Any Size

I remember going to Plato’s Closet with my sister, four years younger than me, after I’d put on about twenty pounds, and feeling so discouraged because I felt my body no longer looked good in the styles I used to love. I picked through the racks and grabbed off items I would have worn a year ago and handed them to my sister, telling her how beautiful she looked in them as she tried them on and questioned whether her hips looked too big or if this bunch of fat peaked out too much. I remember wishing I had the body back that I had so desperately tried to change.

A week later I was standing in front of a full length mirror at work in a baggy t-shirt and leggings, picking at my stomach and I said to my co-worker, “I have gotten so fat.” She looked at me with a look of complete surprise on her face and said “Where?” Like she couldn’t believe I think that of myself. Like those weren’t thoughts that cycled through my brain about every five minutes.

When I got home that night I took a long look in the mirror at my body and I wondered where I had gone wrong. I didn’t hate the way my body looked. Sure, there was a bit more to my stomach and my thighs pressed together a bit tighter, but I still thought I was beautiful. So why was I feeling so down about my own body?

Theodore Roosevelt once said “Comparison is the thief of Joy,” and while I doubt he was talking about our bodies, the same principal applies. Comparing your body to another body – whether that be a friends, an Instagram Models, a Celebrities, or even your own a year ago – will do nothing but make you feel bad about yourself.

I am the biggest now that I have ever been. I work out and I eat healthy. I am healthy. Yet, I am still the biggest I have ever been and that is okay. Could I be doing more to make my body smaller? Sure. But would that make me happier? Probably not.

According to a quick Google search, the average weight of a woman over 20 is 170 pounds. My heaviest weight puts me slightly above the average, yet woman who look just like me call themselves fat and ugly every single day.

Stop comparing yourself to anybody. Look in your mirror and love your body at whatever size and shape it is right now. If you know you are healthy, you know you are doing the best that you can in this body right now, than that is enough. You can still want smaller arms. You can still want to see a smaller number on the scale. You are still allowed to think the girl five sizes smaller or bigger than you is beautiful. But also know you are beautiful. Know your arms at this size are beautiful. Know your body at this weight is beautiful.

I’ll leave you with a selfie taken this morning at my heaviest weight. I am posing to make myself feel good. I am posing to extenuate the body parts I feel most confident in. I promise my stomach jiggles when I walk and my thighs rub together with each step. Notice that face? She’s happy in this body right now. Join her.

me

Posted in Poetry, Thoughts and Opinions

Getting What you Want: A Leap of Faith

61250530_363852321152003_4499826409885036782_n

I am a firm believer that hard work is the number one ingredient in getting what you want. Without hard work, dreams remain just that; dreams. Instilled in me since childhood has been this grit – a willingness to put forward every ounce of my energy into my desired outcome. However, I am also a firm believer that the second ingredient will always be faith. Let’s rewind.

I have had many people call me crazy when I tell them that I moved to Connecticut (four hours away from any family or friends) with only the money I had saved and no job lined up. I have had people look at me like I was stupid, questioning why anyone would do something so ridiculous. However, in the moment, the decision to move without any real plan was just a complete leap of faith. And I had no doubts that it would work out.

Similarly, a few years back my best friend and I made the drive from Vermont to Mississippi just the two of us, stopping at hotels along the way on a week long adventure. People asked why we didn’t fly. People asked why our parents would allow us to make this journey alone – we were almost twenty at the time, but looking back, it was risky. In the moment though, we set off with our suitcases in my friends Honda CRV, and took to the road with no doubts that we would do nothing but have the time of our lives.

I could explain to you several other instances in which I jumped without seeing the ground. With every single one, I would not be where I am today had I not taken that leap.

It is terrifying. Admittedly, it can be the scariest thing you will ever do. But it is also extremely important in getting what you want.

There is no secret recipe. No short cut to success. But if you work hard and believe in your actions, effort and faith will always pay off.

I am not here to say that you will not eventually leap and land on your behind. More than once I have tried and failed. But it’s in the getting back up where you win. It’s in the failing and always jumping again that you succeed.

Take the risk. Jump when you can’t see the ground, step when you don’t see the stairs, dive when you don’t know the depth – you will be rewarded. There is no success in safety. Always, it lives in the unknown.

Posted in Poetry, Thoughts and Opinions

I Dropped Out of College: Why it is the best decision I ever made

This past weekend marked what should have been my college graduation. Class of 2019. I still get the Facebook group notifications even though I dropped out of college two years ago. My feed has been flooded the past few days with pictures of my friends in cap and gowns, and I can’t help but feel if just for a second, that I should be in those pictures with them. When I first felt that throb in my chest, that guilt and jealousy, I found myself quickly rewinding and checking myself because the simple truth is, dropping out of college when I did was the best thing for me.

Not for one second do I regret my decision to leave school. I was at the top of my classes, I was getting straight A’s on every project, on every assignment, I was the person to beat. But I was miserable. I was working a full time job, juggling a long distance relationship, trying to convince myself that I was happy studying a major I had no interest in. I was appeasing the system that had placed me in higher education, and I was miserable.

Do not get me wrong here. I think College is very important. I think any person who has dedicated their time and energy to getting a higher education is strong and beautiful and wonderful, and should be very proud of themselves. I am not here to bash anyone who has made that choice; they are very admirable and extremely necessary in society.

All of that though does not change that college was simply not for me. I am a happier, stronger, and still very well educated person today because I dropped out of college.

Let me explain.

I did not go to college because I had a passion for something. I went to college because that is what everyone was telling me to do. Teachers, advisers, family members, friends – almost every person in my life convinced me college was the best option. At times it seemed college was the only option. Coming from a small town, to some people, not going to college is much like a death sentence.

Still, college was not for me.

There are people who when I tell them my story, tell me I picked the wrong major. It would have been better for me if I’d picked a different major. I picked the wrong college. It would have been different for me had I picked a different college. I disagree with all of these statements. It wasn’t the majors fault. It wasn’t the college’s fault. It was all on me.

I studied hard. I got good grades. I had amazing professors. I learned plenty. I didn’t fail at college by any means. But I was a terrible human being during those two years. I was miserable. I got up every morning dreading life no matter what I had planned for the day. I knew I was going to have to sit in class and pretend to enjoy the lectures I was sitting through. I sat next to people with fire in their bellies, people so passionate about the subject that they would stand to answer questions and I remember thinking – “give me some of that fire”. I remember just wanting to feel something, but that’s not how it works.

The day I dropped out of college, the only thing I remember feeling was relief. I expected to feel anger at myself for quitting. I expected to feel ashamed of myself. I expected to feel regret or fear looking at the loans I was still going to have to pay off. But no. All I felt was relief. And to this day, all I have ever truly felt about my decision to drop out of college is relief.

I have no idea where I am going to end up. I may go back to college one day. I may decide never to go back. But at this point in my life, I have a job. I pay my own bills. I am doing something I love to do. I have plans for the next couple of years. I am happy. And above all, I am not ashamed of the choices I made to get here.

Going to college is a choice so many people make, and for so many people, it is absolutely the right decision. Also though, there are plenty of people who choose not to and still live abundant lives and are no less a member of society than those that have a degree.

I will end this post by saying simply this: be you. Choose what makes you happy. Do what makes you happy. As long as your bills are getting paid, you aren’t breaking any laws, you aren’t hurting anyone else, and you are happy, then who should be a judge of what is right in your life but yourself?

Posted in Letters to..., Thoughts and Opinions

Starting Over

No beating around the bush, no long intro explaining myself, no poetic words of enlightenment; I am going to cut right to the point.

Over the past few months, I have been reinventing myself. One morning while driving into work, I realized that I was unhappy with my own mindset and view of the world. As I drove over a bridge overlooking the ocean, driving my new car, listening to my favorite song on the radio, I still wasn’t happy, and I wasn’t okay with that. So on that Thursday morning while everyone else was looking forward to Friday, I decided I was going to change.

So that is where I have been, and what I have been up to, and it has been beautiful.

I decided not to tell anyone about this breakthrough. Not my boyfriend, not my parents or my sisters, my friends or my coworkers. I decided this was going to be for me, until I felt as if I had made some progress. So here we are. I feel like now I’m ready to share where my mind has been and who I have become.

I am taking more time for me. I find time every day to exercise, whether that means going for a walk for twenty minutes or going to the gym for an hour. Sometimes it just means squatting and doing planks in my living room. Whatever fits and whatever feels right.

I have been more aware of the foods I am putting into my body, and this has made me feel amazing. I love greasy foods and fast foods as much as anyone, and some days when I’m running low on time before work, I still swing through the drive through and stuff my face with chicken nuggets and french fries. And I love those days. But most days I am eating more fruits and vegetables, drinking more water and enjoying flavors instead of just choking them down.

I have been more aware as well of my impact on the environment. I no longer use plastic bags or plastic straws, as much as I possibly can. I was always that person who asked, ‘how is one person going to make any impact?’ because my actions seemed so small compared to the actions of the whole world. But that’s just it. They are my actions, and at the end of the day, the only actions I can control. So I might as well start there.

I look in the mirror differently now. I don’t always love who I see there, but I now try to find at least one thing I do love about her. Whether that be her eyes or her nose, some days it’s just the way her finger nails are the perfect length. Some days the only thing I can find is the birth mark on her stomach to fall in love with, and that’s okay. At least it is something.

I am learning to accept the things I have done wrong, and forgive other people for the apologies I never got. I am moving forward and trying to be done with the past. This one is the hardest, but I am making progress. I am trying to reach out to people I feel like I have harmed in some way, and make amends to the best of my ability. Once the words are out, all I can do is move forward, because there is no going back and changing what has already been done. I am finding this one of the most important and helpful things I have ever done for my body and mind.

Overall, I have just been growing. I have been living in my own being instead of in the being I thought I was supposed to be. I am continuing to find new things every day to try and to experience, and I am loving every minute of this journey.

I will leave you with that. I hope you find time today to adopt one of these ideas into your own life. I hope you find a way to enjoy this moment.

Posted in Thoughts and Opinions

Bad Days: Normal?

Yesterday I woke up with some different kind of pep in my step. I looked in the mirror, bed head and bags under my eyes, and I felt like a Queen. I picked out the only push up bra I own, my tightest pair of jeans, and I completely made up my face with gold eye shadow and red lipstick, all while jamming out to Cardi B. Mind you, I work at a group home, so this level of getting ready was completely unnecessary. But I also knew I needed to take advantage of this feeling. I texted a good friend of mine and said ‘ever just wake up really feeling yourself, cus same’, and she replied, ‘feel it, feel all of it’. I was reminded in that moment that we are allowed to have good days and we are allowed to have bad days, and we should completely revel in and feel both.

Reminded again when I woke up this morning bloated, feeling sluggish and greasy. I looked in the mirror and although it was the same girl looking back at me from only twenty four hours before, I didn’t feel the same. Cardi B wasn’t getting me hyped. My hair wouldn’t stay styled the way I wanted it to, and I had no energy to apply more than just mascara, and even that was a struggle. I didn’t want to wear jeans – so instead I pulled on leggings and a baggy shirt because that’s what I felt comfortable in today. Old me would have slumped her way to work, dreading it every step of the way and feeling like a hideous monster who shouldn’t have been let out of the house.

Instead, I thought about yesterday. I thought about how I felt when I looked at myself, how it was me looking back, and how good that had felt. And I did the same thing I had done then. I allowed myself to feel ugly. I allowed myself to feel broken and gross. And then I moved on.

You are not going to feel your best every day. No matter how many times you go to the gym, no matter how healthy you eat, how many self help books you read, how many times you meditate, you are never going to feel today the same way you feel tomorrow. That’s beautiful, and something we should take more time to fall in love with, instead of being angry about. It’s easy to wake up today and feel terrible about yourself and try to change it. That’s what I used to do, and would spend my entire day miserable because even though I was looking at the same girl who felt great about herself the day before, I couldn’t bring myself to feel that same way today.

Don’t try to change how you feel, thinking that might make you happier. You are feeling how you are feeling for a reason. Feel it. Live with it. And then let it go. Acknowledging that you are feeling this way about yourself gives the power back to you – a strategy that can be used on so much more than just how you feel about your looks.

If you feel good about yourself today, own in. If you feel bad about yourself today, own it. Just know either way, tomorrow you are going to feel completely different than you do right now.

Posted in introduction, Thoughts and Opinions

Hello Friends!

53357860_2109915229093070_857751639023190561_n(1)

Our tiny family here is growing! Hopping on here this morning and realizing we had hit 120 followers, I decided it was time to make a post about what I am doing here. I know 120 isn’t much in social media terms, but for me, a small town blogger who never thought she would get over 5 followers, that number makes my heart happy.

My blog has been a bit all over the place as of late. And this is because I started this blog purely because I love to write. I love to write but sometimes I don’t feel like adding to my novel or scribbling down a short story. Sometimes I have a thought my brain needs to get on paper – this blog was my solution for that. A place to write down my little ideas in hopes that maybe a couple of people might read them and agree, or perhaps feel a little less alone in this vast world, as I myself have when reading blogs written by others.

Over the past few months of adding posts here however, I have found a common theme in my ideas, and thus, in my writing. I am very passionate about self love, mental health, and supporting other woman. I always have been. Since my own very first struggle with depression as a Freshman in High School, to my now 22 year old self, I have thought mental health was a topic not many people feel comfortable enough to contribute to. Most of us struggle with loving ourselves, with depression, or some other form of mental illness, but many of us don’t think it is our place to share our opinions.

That is what I am here to do. Since before High School, since a little girl in middle school bullied by the more popular girls, the girls I always dreamed of being but who seemed to hate me, I have known I was put on this earth for something larger. I knew that all of this pain and suffering had to add up to something.

I don’t care how many people this blog reaches. I don’t care if I get zero reads a day, two reads a day, or ten. I really do not care. Because I am writing this for myself, and the one lonely girl behind her screen who feels no one gets her. I get you.

I am not promising that from here on out each post will make perfect sense and will fill you with some sort of purpose for your day. I am promising that I am here as your big sister, as your friend, as your cheerleader. And I plan on continuing to shower each and every one of you with the love that you deserve.

Thank you for reading my little update and I hope you all have a wonderful day!